By Maia Pelleg, KF9, Kenya Agency for the Development of Enterprise and Technology (KADET)

This video was filmed in response to the following interaction I had with a borrower group outside of Nairobi, Kenya…

“Habari. Nina itwa Maia,” I practice saying as I walk into my first group meeting of the day. A KADET credit officer named Gachi,and I are visiting Kiva borrowers living in Kamae, a slum-like area filled with tin huts and roads littered with garbage and roaming animals. Almost all Kiva borrowers here lack formal education and exposure to English, and I wanted to make sure that I could at least introduce myself in their language. I take my seat on a long sturdy bench and face a group of 12 borrowers sitting in four straight rows before me. With perfect posture, the borrowers stare earnestly at Gachi, waiting for an explanation as to why a mzungu (white person) is joining their meeting.

A round of introductions begins, translated by Gachi, and I learn that the group’s name is Kihatu, meaning broom. When they hear their group name announced to me, every single borrower’s face breaks into a proud grin. Until now, the groups I have met have names that translate to English words like lion, opportunity, and faith. Puzzled by this self-designated title, I ask for insight into this choice. A willowy woman with a strong, clear voice responds and Gachi translates, “This is the first loan cycle for all of us in this group,” she says, “and each of us is looking to sweep away the problems of our past and the problems of luck. We are no longer going to depend on luck, but on ourselves.”

The symbolism behind this word selection moves me, and I’m eager to learn more about this community. However, my excitement to engage with these individuals is met with wariness and even hostility as Gachi describes what Kiva is and why I’m here.  Voices rise as rapid Swahili dialogue fires between group members and Gachi. I try to wait patiently for a pause in the conversation to ask Gachi to explain what is going on. Although I do not know most of the cultural norms here, I have learned that heated discussion is rare among Kenyans, and that this is an unusual scene playing out before me. Thinking that perhaps I can help Gachi explain Kiva’s role in a constructive way and emphasize that becoming a Kiva borrower is completely optional (while still being able to remain a KADET borrower), I finally interrupt.

I’m told that the group, led by a particular woman seated in the third row, objects to the idea of having their photos taken for Kiva borrower profiles. Historically, this community has been a target area for aid workers and NGOs. Unfortunately, despite posing for pictures in front of their homes and allowing their children to be photographed in their streets, the Kihatu group has not reaped any of the benefits promised by camera-toting journalists and aid workers. Instead, what money has trickled in has gone to squatters, those individuals who roam the streets and sleep on piles of dirt. The Kihatu borrowers have been considered above the need for these donations, even though they lack appropriate nutrition and their homes are unsound, one-room tin structures. There is a consensus in the group that somewhere, someone (even a reporter or newspaper) has profited from the photos of their families, and they are angry at what they see as a violation of their rights.

The woman in the third row, Lucy, also questions why Kiva works through KADET instead of just giving (not loaning) money directly to her.

Through Gachi, I join the conversation and tell them that Kiva lenders do not view them as vulnerable victims in need of hand outs. “Instead,” I say turning to Lucy, “lenders view you as a business partner, capable of engaging in a financial relationship based on respect and for the purpose of providing you with opportunity.”

I explain how Kiva works, but Lucy is so used to western aid workers parachuting in to “save” people in Kenya, that it is hard for her to grasp the concept of accepting a loan from people in the United States (or other western countries) that she must repay. She views all mzungus as rich, and therefore is angry that we would ask someone who is much poorer, like her, to pay it back. In Lucy’s experience, this is simply not the ruling precedent for how a relationship with the west functions.

My next approach is to explain to the group who are Kiva lenders. I’m grateful that I remembered to print out a few lender profiles from Kiva’s website. I hold them up, giving them three different faces to attach to the concept of lenders. “Lenders and borrowers are equal partners; this is not a benefactor relationship. These individuals that you see here are some of Kiva’s lenders. Your loans are not funded by just one of these individuals, but by a group of people who have banded together to invest in you. Contrary to your belief, they may not have much money to spare, but by grouping together they are able to support your business and empower you to improve your life.”

I wait while Gachi translates in his soft, calm voice. When he finishes, I add, “The purpose of taking your photograph and interviewing you for a borrower profile is to facilitate this connection and to create understanding. By providing a view into your life and work, lenders are likely to choose to invest in your business.”

I reach into my bag and extract a thin photo album covered in a plastic coating that depicts a map of the world. Passing it to Lucy, I say, “This shouldn’t be a one-sided mirror into your lives. In here you will find pictures of my family, friends, boyfriend and favorite places in my home town. This is what my life is like in the United States. And this is my job, working with KADET to create greater access to funding for micro-entrepreneurs.

Finally, I want to re-emphasize that being on Kiva’s website is your choice. If you do not feel comfortable signing the waiver, then please do not.”

When Gachi has completed the translation of my words, two women actually stand, walk to the front of the room and wrap their thin arms around me in a strong embrace. For Kenyans, people to whom formality and courtesy are extremely important, this is a big gesture. “Asanti sana kwa kazi njema,” they say. Thank you for your good work.

I’m proud that I was able to reach through to them, and extremely touched at the appreciation they’ve shown for a conversation that took less than 30 minutes. Insecurity can stem from ignorance, and these people have not had the education that would equip them with the ability to fully understand how their loans work. They are used to being taken advantage of, and I am so happy to have the chance to dispel their doubts by providing information. The power of transparency cannot be underestimated.

The murmurs settle and Gachi goes around the room, asking every individual how they feel, if there are any lingering questions, and if they are willing to become a Kiva borrower. Susan needs time to think about it. John says that my presence has given Kiva validity in his mind and is appreciative that Kiva will help him receive a loan; he agrees to be photographed and interviewed for Kiva’s website that afternoon. Turning to Susan and those that have not yet responded, John uses big hand gestures as he speaks, trying to convince them to become Kiva borrowers. “We are lucky to have the opportunity to receive a loan from KADET,” he says, “by becoming Kiva borrowers, we bring the possibility of loans to more people. The money KADET may have allocated to us can now be given to someone else. We help our neighbors by being on Kiva.”

This is a message they all seem to hear. Mary, Matthew, Naomi, Paul and five others, even Lucy, their fearless leader, agree to become Kiva borrowers. Susan changes her mind and asks if she can be photographed first.

I’m touched by John’s message of community and his desire to provide opportunity for others. This is the spirit of Kiva and why I am here working as a volunteer. To see this sentiment echoed in a place where access to electricity, running water and sanitation is minimal is extremely moving.

After we’ve visited our day’s worth of borrowers, Gachi and I catch three different matatus before arriving back at the KADET branch office. During our trip back, I’m able to reflect on the day and am thankful that our morning group challenged Kiva’s role in their lives, and with it, my assumptions. I naively expected all borrowers to be grateful to Kiva for providing access to capital. I didn’t take into account skepticism towards the west that has brewed from past experiences or the expectation of donations and an inability to immediately grasp the concept of a business partnership. It’s also given me a lot to think about on another level, in terms of what the mechanism should be for assisting less fortunate communities. In a country that lacks the infrastructure, or in which corrupt systems exist, how do we reach those like the Kihatu group in a constructive way?

Finally, the morning’s discussion reinforced the responsibility I have as a Kiva fellow to portray these individuals with the dignity and respect they deserve. Photos that circulate of emaciated African children and downtrodden workers, what some at Kiva call “poverty pornography,” fuel the image of Africans as helpless, dependent victims rather than as diverse, capable people with unlimited potential. No one hears this message more than Africans themselves. I am working hard to combat established expectations of relationships with the  West. I believe Kiva loans and partnerships are a big step in the right direction.

To learn more about KADET, Ltd and its borrowers, click here. To become a Friend of KADET (KADET’s lending team), click here to join.

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Some of the Kihatu group borrowers with their businesses:

Naomi Wambui with one of her three cows

Though Naomi is unsure of how to sign her name, opting for three small dots on the paper, she is excited to be a Kiva borrower. Her loan is for 10,000 KSh (~$130) with which she will diversify her income by opening a fruit stand. Naomi used to borrow with another MFI, but switched to KADET after a loan officer disappeared with the group’s money, including their savings. Encouraged by others in the Kihatu group, Naomi decided to give micro-credit another try. She doesn’t know her age and can’t remember the name of where she comes from, but she does know how to keep a passbook and make her repayments. Naomi says she is proud to provide food for her children.

We find Lucy standing in front of her used clothing business, 12 or 13 blouses carefully laid out on a piece of worn, woven straw. As Gachi interviews her in Swahili, Lucy takes hold of my hand and squeezes several times. Lucy announces to Gachi that I am hard-working, just like her daughter, and therefore she wants to hug me. She insists on taking eight different photos together, and giggles when she sees herself in playback mode on my digital camera.

In one of Lucy's embraces

Lucy’s loan is for KSh15,000 (~$200) and with it she will purchase more stock to sell. Although this is Lucy’s first loan with KADET, we learn that she had previously borrowed from another MFI but that her group was crippled by the hospital bills of two members and their inability to repay.

Julius Mwaugi with his taxi

Julius’ taxi is a red motorbike with peeling paint and cracked seats. Julius has a big grin on his face during the entire Kiva interview. His loan is for KSh20,000 (~$265), which he will use to purchase merchandise for a secondary business and pay for limited insurance. With his profits, Julius says he will purchase comprehensive insurance, which will cover his vehicle and all parties in the incident of a crash.

Mary mostly sells charcoal, and once in a while vegetables if she can afford to stock them. Mary’s kiosk is made from wood and tin, with burlap walls. A large jug labeled “sulfuric acid” sits next to the charcoal. When I ask why she has sulfuric acid, Gachi laughs and tells me it’s a container for water. It has never been cleaned. Mary’s loan is for KSh10,000 (~$130), which she will use to purchase potatoes and additional charcoal to meet customer demand.

Mary Wambui, in front of her charcoal kiosk

Peter Mashariah, inside his butchery shop

Across town, we find Peter’s butchery. The thick, pungent smell of blood and fresh meat hit my nostrils the moment we walk through the narrow door. A partial carcass hangs from a hook in the window. On the counter sits a scale and a glass aquarium, which holds three small pieces of raw meat. The instant we step inside, it starts pouring rain outside. The noise is amplified by the tin roof over our heads, making it difficult to hear what Peter is saying (not that I understand anyway). Peter’s loan is for KSh15,000 (~$200), which he will use to renovate the butchery. His top priorities are improving the broken tiled floor and installing an appropriate enclosure for where the meat hangs. One day, Peter says, he hopes to buy live animals to slaughter and sell to retailers. By the time we leave Peter’s shop, the rain has completely stopped falling.

With John in front of his stew and sausage pot.

A five-minute walk down the main dirt road and we come to John’s butchery. A slightly muted version of the thick odor present in Peter’s shop lingers. Flies swarm, landing on my head, notebook, jacket and hands. This space is larger than I expected, and three men sit inside chatting. John wears an orange and white mesh jersey and sucks on a toothpick during the interview.

With warm eyes and a bright smile, John is charming–even in a language I don’t understand. This is John’s 11^th year in business; he buys cattle and sells the individual pieces to retail butchers (like Peter’s).  John takes the parts of the cow that he is unable to sell (intestines, heart, lungs, feet, etc) and creates a stew and sausages, selling lunch and dinner on the street. The loan he seeks is for KSh40,000 (~$535), with which he will expand his meat supply coverage. When it is time to photograph John in front of his business, he is giddy. He runs across the street to find a butcher’s coat, slicks his hair back and poses.

by Rachel Brooks, KF9, Kenya

My favorite Kiva field partner before I started my fellowship was Kisimu Medical & Education Trust, here in Kenya. At K-MET, microfinance is a smaller part of a community-based health organization. They offer loans to providers (many of them volunteers) so that they can maintain or improve their clinics and services. And they have these wonderfully innovative programs to help women and improve reproductive health.

But as much as programs like these make me go weak at the knees, I’ve also really come around to loving what the scope and focus of a big MFI can offer. Big is beautiful.

Faulu's Director holds the BIG certificate

Faulu Kenya has more than 90 outlets across the country, over 1000 staff members, and a fairly large headquarters. They are laser-focussed on providing financial services to low-income people, with over 250,000 clients. They want to reach a million clients by 2011.

In a country that is as bountiful and still so poverty-stricken as Kenya, a million clients starts to seem like a good start. Each day, though I get very encouraged by the stories I read about and hear from individual clients, something will drag me back down to Earth. I’ll get a good view of Kibera, the largest slum in Africa, or read that children are dying of something as ancient as cholera in Mukuru, or watch starving Masai cattle shepherded into the city to nibble on brown grass by the airport. Then I’m very glad for Faulu’s big ambitions.

An MFI like Faulu also has the resources to offer really critical training. Before borrowers can take their first loan, they complete a full two day seminar. They pay Kes. 400 (about $5) and they get probably the only training they’ll ever receive on business management, record keeping, customer care, group relations, how to save, and defining a vision for the future. In short, information that could really make your business a success so that you can provide for yourself and your family.

But probably the biggest boon for Faulu is that they are Kenya’s first Deposit Taking Micro-Finance Company under Kenya’s Micro-Finance Act. This just means they can offer savings accounts and re-lend the money. In Kenya ninety percent of the population hides their money under the mattress (and other secret places I can’t reveal), so being able to open an account with Kes. 200 (about $2.50) and earn up to 4-6% interest is important. In interviews, clients have consistently reaffirmed how vital simple access to savings has been to them.

Organizations like K-MET and MFIs like Faulu both make tremendous contributions and Kiva gives them some of the attention they deserve. CLICK HERE to see more examples of the work Kiva field partners do.

Rachel Brooks is a Kiva Fellow working for Faulu Kenya in Nairobi. Don’t hesitate to join the Friends of Faulu Kenya Lending Team.

By Anne Hector, KF9 Kenya

When last I posted (http://tiny.cc/pl68v), I was preparing to plunge into Nairobi traffic with the redoubtable intern, Mary Chege, to visit  the Kitengela branch to gather up loans and work with the lending officers on Kiva postings.

Kitengela is a small town of approximately 8000 located one hour southeast of Nairobi.  Once Mary and I successfully navigated our way there, one of SMEP’s local loan officers, Winnie Mwiti, took us out for the day on her usual rounds.  I had never been to a group borrower meeting and nor met a micro-finance client, so this was a big day.

Our first stop was the Ondisore Group loan meeting in the market.  It was blazingly hot and the meeting was held in a small corrugated tin hut.  While I was concerned about willingly stepping into an oven, it was surprisingly cool inside and a quiet business atmosphere prevailed.  Borrowing groups, for those of you who don’t know, are the backbone of microfinance.  A terrific innovation developed by Bangladesh’s Grameen Bank and Bolivia’s BancoSol., the group guarantees the loans of every member.  What that really means is that if a member defaults on his/her loan for whatever reason, the group has to pay back the outstanding amount.  As you might imagine, the group takes selection of its members very, very seriously, and in this way, the credit risk assessment normally performed by a bank is outsourced to the community.

Groups typically meet once a week, and everyone makes their payment in cash.  Pictured above are Jael Ombange and Wanjiku Wangui (head of the Ondisore  group) recording each and every payment by the 10 members attending.  This is one serious meeting.  Some joking around, but everyone is cognizant of the risks involved, and a no nonsense attitude prevails.  The arrival of the Kiva mzungu (lily white me) created some stir and they all agreed to have their photos taken for the website, but then it was back to business.

We next moved on to the Kilume Wealth Creation Self Help group meeting.  Vice Chairman of the group, Francis Ndungu, cordially invited us to come see his workshop.  Somehow I had the impression that micro-borrowers lived at far more precarious economic levels than is the case of the SMEP clients we visited.  While their lives certainly have challenges, many are established small business people and very proud of their enterprises.  When asked if they minded having their pictures on the internet, they tend to look surprised, pleased and then check to see how they looked for their upcoming 15 minutes.  Our Vice Chair, Francis, is a metal fabricator and upholster, and he shown here in his shop with a metal grill he created.  You have got to admire that blue blazer with gold buttons and white shirt… the man looked sharp and he knew it.

Final stop was a loan interview with a tuk tuk operator from the same group.  The matatus, buses, taxis and tuk tuks all gather at a depot in the center of town, and the tuk tuks tend to flock together.  The three-wheel vehicles, lend themselves well to customization to attract passengers and express the true soul of the operator.  Pictured left is one particularly outstanding vehicle owned by John Kimani.

All in all, a great day in the field.  It turns out that Kitengela’s biggest problem posting Kiva loans is emailing the photos to headquarters.  Internet connection is at dial-up speed and this has caused a complete breakdown.  It all sounds so easy back in the Bay Area… but getting loans posted in remote parts of the world takes enormous dedication by the staff.  We determined that flash drives send back and forth by the Wells Fargo courier will solve the issue.

For Mary and I, it is on to Thika, a colonial town NE of Nairobi.  In the meantime, please consider joining Kiva if you are not already a member (http://tiny.cc/aD7N2) and funding a loan (http://tiny.cc/ZjeZQ).

by Rachel Brooks, KF9, Kenya

Faulu Kenya, where I recently began as a Fellow, has a full-time Kiva Coordinator, Zachary Muriithi. He’s a busy guy. He works long hours at Faulu, manages his several small farms, helps run a home for 24 orphans, and preaches on Sunday. He has old and new friends wherever we go and has become an active user of Facebook, Twitter, and WordPress.

Still, Pastor Zach was excited for our first big task: completing a borrower verification process. We randomly picked ten of Faulu’s Kiva borrowers for a mini-audit and then appeared unannounced at their businesses to confirm their profile details. We really might as well have dropped a bag of marbles onto a map of Nairobi because the ten businesses could not have been farther apart but it was worth it.

The reason I became a lender on Kiva, and then a volunteer editor, and now a Fellow is mostly because I liked each borrower’s story so much. I also thought microfinance had a way of cutting through a lot of difficulties to make a way where there is a will. So even trudging through Nairobi’s endless dust, I so enjoyed meeting each of these borrowers and hearing their stories in person. I’d feared that Zach and I would seem a bit like the secret police as we asked to confirm people’s identities and have a look-see at their loan booklets but instead we kept getting offered Fanta.

We spent three days on foot, matatu, and bodaboda, to reach all but our last borrower. Dominic Mutunga had used his fourth and most recent loan to purchase a motorbike to expand his taxi service in the Masai Village area of Nairobi. When we tried to visit him we learned that he’d been in an accident in Machokos (about an hour outside of town) and had badly broken his hand. So to Machokos Hospital we went!

It might seem a little strange that someone would welcome a visit from their microfinance institution, including a stranger from Kiva, after surgery. But Dominic was very heartened to see Pastor Zach, who is, of course, an old friend as well as his original loan officer. Most Faulu borrowers also just feel that strongly about their loans. He told us that his bike was not damaged beyond repair but that he may, unfortunately, face a long recovery. Slim resources at the hospital delayed his surgery for over a week and that caused complications. Thankfully, his wife is managing to support the family of five through a food kiosk created through earlier loans.

Incidentally, on the way from Faulu’s branch office in Machakos to the hospital, we were convinced to stop and see the only local attraction. Folks insisted that there is a curve in the road where cars drive themselves uphill while in neutral, and so it did! Apparently water will also roll uphill. I found the stretch in the road to be only slightly uphill. Pastor Zach felt the demonstration bordered on miraculous. You can judge for yourself.

Rachel Brooks is a Kiva Fellow working for Faulu Kenya in Nairobi. If you’ve never made a loan on Kiva, have a look at some of these profiles from Faulu and other partners.

By Anne Hector, KF9 Kenya

My microfinance institution is the Small and Micro Enterprise Programme of Kenya (SMEP) and it is located in Nairobi… not at the foot of the Ngong Hills, I have to admit, but it is very very near Ngong Road.

I am a new Kiva Fellow and proud member of its 9^th class.  My project is to help SMEP move from its pilot program into an active phase with a healthy flow of loans posted on Kiva for funding.  Last week, I navigated my way to Nairobi, settled into a hotel, bought a local cell phone, found SMEP offices (above) and the bus to get there.  On Tuesday, I felt very much the working Nairobi girl as I walked to the bus with my fare ready in KES and was even able to grab a copy of the local paper, The Nation, to read on my commute (headlines all focused on the ICC prosecution of post election violence instigators.)  I think it is safe to say that try as I might, I do not exactly blend into the crowd in the morning commute.

Over the course of the week, I worked with the SMEP team and the incumbent Kiva Fellow and began to get the hang of my assignment.  SMEP is one complex proposition!  Beginning as a church-based feeding program for the poor in Mathare in 1975, it evolved over the years, and ultimately has become a private microfinance company.  As a result, religion and business mix in the work culture in a way somewhat eye-popping to your average godless American.  Meetings begin and end with a free form prayer incorporating references to the issues at hand, the participants and general hopes for success.  It was kind of a great mix of lofty sentiments and hard headed business talk that certainly sets an inspiring  tone to a business meeting.

For my first real assignment, I am going to pick up the very brave SMEP intern, Mary Chege, and we are going to drive to SMEP’s branch in Kitengela, about one hour outside Nairobi.   Our mission is to help that branch with uploading photos for Kiva loans (a major technical issue) and to visit a few group loan meetings.  Driving in Nairobi is not tame and is, of course, conducted from the left hand side of the road.

Stay tuned and take a look at SMEP’s loans to date:  http://tiny.cc/LALS4 We hope to be posting quite a few more.

By Alison Carlman, KF8, Kenya

“ It’s this place, on the computer… like a bulletin board… where people post stories…”

Explaining Kiva isn’t easy.  It wasn’t easy for me to explain Kiva to my Mom, (no offense, Mom) – so imagine me trying to explain Kiva to a Kenyan farmer who’s never touched a computer and never even heard of “the internet.”

As lenders, some of us hope that Kiva borrowers daydream about us in the way that we daydream about them.  After all – we feel this connection with people half a world away because we’ve read their story and seen their photo – and we’ve shared a part of ourselves with them – a portion of our income, and perhaps a photo or a peak into our lending philosophy.

But as a Kiva Fellow it was my experience that many times borrowers know very little about their lenders.  There are several reasons for this.  The first – as I have alluded to – is the sheer difficulty of explaining Kiva to someone who has never heard of the internet, and cannot imagine how someone from Canada could know who they are.  There is a steep learning curve along the road to understanding Kiva. (Read Matt Flannery’s blog article about an encounter gone wrong in this regard).

Furthermore, many times loan officers have so many other important facts to cover (about loan terms, social agendas…) that a thorough explanation of Kiva can be a tremendous burden for the staff.  Borrowers already have a whole borrowing experience based around their MFI’s brand and procedures – it is a lot to learn about a whole other partner organization and its system.

"Explaing Kiva" Poster featuring lenders Jeb, Marikke, Kashul, Emma, and Sunjoo

Like you, I could easily come up with 10 reasons why it’s difficult to explain Kiva to borrowers. I understand why someone would say, “why should we burden these already over-burdened people with more information about the loan?  Won’t they be better off if it’s simplified for them?”

But I didn’t actually know– would the lenders be better off with a simpler explanation?  I decided that I’d like to ask the borrowers myself – “how important is it to you to know the story behind your loan?”

As part of my research for a larger Kiva case study, I conducted formal focus groups with Kiva borrowers in Kisumu directly related to this issue.  Another Kiva Fellow gave the participants a 20-minute demonstration explaining the Kiva system using charts, handouts and photos, and when he left, I lead a discussion inquiring into the borrowers’ reactions.

Here’s what I heard:

• “I didn’t know it [the money] was meant to be taken back and given to other people. Now I feel encouraged after knowing this and I am going to work hard to pay back for other people to have it, and for me to have it another time.”
• “I’m very grateful and actually feel that there is love outside there for people… to lend money to people they have never met and don’t know apart from just reading their profiles on the internet.  It makes me encouraged. Because I feel at least someone outside also thinks about me…”
• “Through support, I think even me I want to work hard to be among the bottom people [lenders] who are lending also, because me I have been supported.”

Kiva has left it up to the MFIs to decide how they want to deal with explaining Kiva.  Kiva’s first policy on this is “do no harm” – they have implemented a client waiver so that Kiva borrowers at least know that their photo and story will be viewed by many people around the world.  But, as in many things, Kiva trusts the MFIs to come up with solutions to implement the Kiva  partnership as they know their clients and capabilities best.

There are MFIs who do explain the complete Kiva system, and the growing presence of Kiva Fellows in the field also helps to enhance the “borrower” side of the connection.  I’ve left my results and recommendations in the hands of my MFI to decide how they will respond to their clients’ feedback. In the meantime, you can expect that Kiva Fellows and MFIs are constantly working to come up with local, relevant, creative ways to connect us all through lending for the sake of alleviating poverty.

As for me, I’m taking to heart the words of a borrower who does know about Kiva. She said that she wanted to tell lenders to “go on making support to other people.” She’s trusting that as she pays back her loan, the money will go to someone new who is in her shoes.

She wants to tell you, “thank you a thousand times” and she says,  “these people, may God bless them, and if I could just see them with my own eyes, the embracement I would give them, no one would be able to imagine. I’m unable to express my gratitude. I am very happy.”

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Alison Carlman is finishing her 11th and final week as a Kiva Fellow in Kisumu, Kenya with K-MET.  She assures  you that her Mom is actually really smart.

by Joel Carlman, KF8

As I enter the final week of my Kiva Fellowship here in Kisumu, Kenya, I find myself thinking about what my time here has taught me.  Kenya is so different from any place that I’ve ever been.  The smiles are brighter, the hand-shakes longer, and the hospitality warmer than just about anywhere.

I know that I’m doing microfinance, and that Kiva is about borrowing and lending.  The terms, the accounts, the figures, and financials are so interesting to me, and that can sometimes seem like what it is all about.  During my fellowship, I dove deep into microfinance, and it’s tempting to look at everything through an analytical lens.  Even as a student of development, I always want to find the golden thread that leads you from problem to solution through the complicated fabric of global and local issues.

But, even more than borrowing and lending, Kiva is about connecting.  It’s hard enough to connect to people of your own background, from your own hometown, and of your own color, tribe, or social status.  How can we possibly connect to people so different from us?  I don’t know if I can really answer that question, but I am inspired to tell of the ways in which I have connected to this place during my fellowship.

I haven’t even left yet, and I already miss the days I spend here walking through the poor neighborhoods of Kisumu visiting urban businesses close to main arterial roads and rural farms closer to where the river meets the endless lake.  It’s tempting to analyze the poverty–say how horrible the sanitation is, to comment on debilitating disease, or tell stories of loss and tragedy.  Those things need to be said, but for me to now harp on the sad lot of the people who are trying to make their way through life here would be to undermine the beauty of that very life.  This is humanity, and in the middle of these times, which are about as tough as they come, there is beauty in the Kenyans I meet.  I have learned from that beauty, envied it, and marveled over it.

A typical borrower for K-MET runs a simple business selling something: fish, vegetables, chips, beauty supplies.  Chances are, their neighbor is doing the same thing or something similar.  The profit margins are shrinking as food prices sky-rocket and the Kenyan economy lags.  The home is full of children–the borrower’s own and those orphans who have been left behind by relatives or friends that have passed away.  As I type these words, they seems so gray.  And yet, the truth is that there are no human beings more colorful than these–they that work their hands ragged from dawn until well past dusk to see their children go to school, to support distant relatives, and to see their community through its struggles and growing pains.  There are bright colors in their eyes, in their lives, and in the work of their hands.  There is immense strength in their stature, and resilience in their optimism.

Barely a year and a half after the post-election violence that left hardly a businesses in tact, they look at me with tears in their eyes which seem to say, “Yes, at times we have nothing.  Many times there is nothing for us; and yet we will continue to fight our way back to life.  We will be the lasting testimony to decency, hard work, and humility that makes our nation great–and any nation with people as proud.”

Their lives have been built one step from the ledge of despair and crippling poverty, and forces beyond their control threaten always to push them over.  And yet, they sing and dance and are thankful.  The difficulties of life are found only in their eyes, never on their lips.  Unsolicited shouts of “I am fine!” from across the street are so common!  And the question follows: “How are you?”

I am thankful for the time I get to spend here.  I am thankful that these hard-working, sincere, and humble individuals–these redoubtably bouyant people–are here to teach me (and us?) what it means to earn a living.  I have been given so much.  How can I take what I have and earn some type of sincere living of my own–not in a financial sense, but in a substantial sense?  It’s a complicated question, and probably more than what we want to think about every day, but ask me again: “How are you?” After this experience?  In light of what Kenya is?  In light of that extraordinary grace only found in the ordinary?

I’m fine.  How are you?

Joel Carlman is in his final (11th) week as a Kiva Fellow with Kisumu Medical & Education Trust in Kenya.

By Jaclyn Berfond, KF8 Kenya

After a month of going out, interviewing borrowers every day, life can start to feel rather routine. Yet, all I have to do is look around – really look around at the slums where I have been working – and I know that Faulu’s work here in Nairobi is anything but routine.

Many fellows before me have offered poignant descriptions of slums around the world. Yet, I felt that the impact of the informal settlements (as they are so politically-correctly called) on my perceptions of poverty, economic empowerment and microfinance, as well as the impact on Nairobi and Kenya as a whole, merited yet another word on the subject.

It is estimated that over half of Nairobi’s population – around 2 million people – live in the city’s numerous informal settlements. Nairobi’s largest slum, and probably most infamous, is Kibera, home to over 1 million people. My work through Faulu has largely centered on the smaller Mukuru settlements. My first day in the Kwa Njenga section of Mukuru slum – where an estimated 75,000 people live on 80 acres of land (and these are only the official numbers)  – was an experience like none I’ve ever had before. Walking for what felt like miles among shacks made of corrugated iron, navigating piles of garbage waiting to be burned, jumping over streams of waste winding through the makeshift streets, inhaling the fumes from the cars that attempted to squeeze through the giant maze of stalls and people…it was the making of a nightmare. Yet, for millions of people, this is reality.

Titus, a Faulu client in Mukuru

Some were born and raised in Nairobi’s slums, yet many grew up in rural areas and moved to Nairobi in search of work – unable or unwilling to return home for a myriad of reasons. Mukuru is located in the industrial area of Nairobi, and many who live here hope to find employment in one of the many factories that surround the slums. Yet, formal employment is difficult to land, and temporary at best. Most of Mukuru’s residents rely on informal businesses to survive. A small kiosk for sodas and snacks, the guy standing over a cardboard box selling phone credit, a tailor with her one sewing machine and small stock of fabric, a woman selling tomatoes by the road, a kerosene stall, a small butchery… the list goes on and on. And these businesses, which provide a livelihood (if it can be called that) for so many, are the very businesses that Faulu finances.

With loans starting between 5,000 and 20,000 Kenyan Shillings (approximately $65 to $260), the people I have met in Mukuru are some of microfinance’s smallest and perhaps neediest clients. The loans Faulu offers are crucial to Mukuru’s businessmen and women because – quite simply – many of their businesses could not exist without them. You see, Nairobi’s slums are an interesting example of why microfinance is so important. Beyond the traditional belief that the poor are not credit-worthy (which we hear so often in the microfinance world), Nairobi is also defined by a lack of trust, by suspicion even among friends, family and neighbors.  A small business cannot buy stock without cash, as even the local supplier will not offer goods on credit. In this climate, microfinance organizations like Faulu and SMEP are critical to offering a way forward. A loan of Ksh. 10,000 allows a woman to purchase charcoal in bulk and then sell that charcoal to her neighbors at a small profit. Without that credit, such businesses cannot exist – let alone grow.

Beyond the offerings of credit, the importance of savings is also critical here in the slums. Kenya is currently facing severe drought, and shortages have driven up the cost of water. In slums like Mukuru there is no running water and residents purchase gerry cans of water to meet their basic needs…for up to 20 times the price of piped water. Without savings, times like these become increasingly difficult for people who have so little to start. Both Faulu and SMEP require that clients save – both as a precondition to receiving a loan and as an ongoing exercise. Talking with borrowers, hearing their stories, I can fully appreciate the necessity of both savings and credit services. Yet I have also come to realize that microfinance is not enough.

I recently had the chance to spend a day in Mathare, yet another sprawling slum. It is shocking to imagine that millions of people can live in such devastating conditions.  I am left with the realization that people here need much more than what microfinance can offer – clean water and food, sanitation, space, land titles, freedom from violence, a political voice…a real chance.

Overlooking Mathare

I do not think that this discredits microfinance (no pun intended). In fact, I remain a firm believer that microfinance organizations here offer a way for people to improve their livelihoods, and hopefully, eventually, improve their lives. But I think that these organizations can go even further, leveraging their unique grassroots perspective – with hundreds of credit officers meeting weekly with thousands of clients living in slums and low-income communities. I have already seen programs in place at both Faulu and SMEP to finance water tanks and solar panels – crucial in these times of water and electricity rationing. This is the first step. I look forward to seeing these organizations continue to increase their services, and partner with other health and humanitarian initiatives, to give these people what they need to lead a life of dignity.

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Jaclyn Berfond is serving as a Kiva Fellow in Kenya, working with two new Kiva field partners – The Small and Micro-Enterprise Programme (SMEP) and Faulu Kenya. Click here to view currently fundraising loans from SMEP, and here to see currently fundraising loans from Faulu.

By Alison Carlman, KF8,  Kenya

Kenya’s post election violence is probably far from the minds of most people in the world. After all – the contested election and its ensuing rioting happened in late 2007, and that was years ago. (See Former Kiva Fellow Zack Turner’s blog post from 2008 here, describing the conflict.) Surely you’d think that people were recovering from the trauma and have moved on with their lives.

Yes and no.

In my first several weeks of borrower interviews, a few borrowers brought up the violence when asked I about their challenges.  Many eyes even swelled up with tears as these Kenyans described what happened to their businesses and to their families in the aftermath.

Surprised by how close it all still felt to many of these people, I began to ask every borrower about the post-election violence and how it has affected their lives.  They have remarkable stories. Peres Akinyi Mimba, for example, had a successful informal hardware business in 2007. “I had a big shop, I even had to transport things on lorries” she explained to me.  But during the period of violence her shop was looted and she lost most of her goods were stolen. Now she is taking a loan out to help re-build her business back to where it was before – she currently just sells basic paints and nails, but she wants to sell a larger variety of hardware supplies.

Alison (right) interviewing Consolata (center), with help of K-MET translator, Debra (left)

The shadows of that horrible season of destruction are still looming here in Western Kenya. Consolata Akinyi, a Kiva borrower, is a farmer whose entire crop was destroyed by looters.  This happened to many of the farms in the Kisumu area. K-MET, a Kenyan MFI focused on health and education, saw that the results of this violence and subsequent economic crisis left many of the city’s children suffering from severe malnutrition. So K-MET started a food security program to help Kisumu community members work together to fight hunger with local resources.

Consolata on her "Otieko Ketch" Farm

Consolata is part of this K-MET initiative, she joined a group of neighboring farmers called “otieko ketch” (“eradicate hunger”). Most of the 19 women and 2 men in this group have taken Kiva loans to grow their farming businesses and fight malnutrition in their community. They share resources and advice for each other, including thoughts on how to draw water from the river for irrigation, and how to keep rogue hippopotamuses from destroying their crops(!).

Many of the people I meet still have a long way to go to get their businesses, families, and communities back to the place they were before the post-election violence. And some, who lost dear family members and friends, will never be the same. But thank you to Kiva lenders for helping the Kisumu community rise out of this tragedy with dignity and hope.

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Alison Carlman is in her 9th week as a Kiva Fellow in Kisumu, a city that she loves.  She is currently a graduate student studying Community and Development at the Univerity of Stellenbosch in South Africa. To learn more about K-MET’s innovative approach to microfinance, click here. If you’re already excited, join the K-MET lending team!

By Jaclyn Berfond, Laura Buhler, Alison Carlman, Joel Carlman and Cameron Morris

Last weekend the East African Kiva Fellows delegation descended upon the bustling streets of Kampala, Uganda and the banks of the Nile River for two days of intense knowledge transfer and mild revelry. We spent hours discussing the importance of data validity in performing operational cost analyses and tried to debunk the myth that OpenOffice does not properly save .csv files for uploading repayment information to PA2. We also had a little fun. We left Kampala feeling refreshed and full of ideas to take back to our MFIs.

Now it’s your turn. We are officially issuing a challenge to the other regions (LAC, Asia, Western Africa and Eastern Europe) to prove that you are as united and have as much regional spirit as the East Africans. Excuses will not be tolerated. As Kiva Fellows this is a challenge you should be ready to take on. We did it, so can you. We also made an amazing video documenting our adventure. Check it out!

Jaclyn, Laura, Alison, Joel and Cameron are Kiva Fellows spread out over the East African Region. To read more about their experiences and their MFIs click on their names above.

By Alison Carlman, KF8, Kenya

Consider yourself warned: this blog talks about maxipads. There. I said it. Now please keep reading.

Perhaps you’ve heard of  the “Girl Effect” campaign.  The “Girl Effect” is a about investing in what Africans call the “girl child” and how that can affect a country’s development.  According to The Girl Effect, an extra year in primary school statistically boosts girls’ future wages by 10% to 20%, and every additional year a girl spends in secondary school lifts her income by 15% to 25%. And you better believe that the size of a country’s economy is, in no small part, determined by the educational attainment and skill sets of its girls. For Kenya alone, if the 1.6 million teenage girls who drop out of school each year instead finished their secondary education, their incremental earning power would lift Kenya’s GDP by $27 billion over their lifetimes.   Not to MENTION the impact it would have on the health and well-being of future families and children of these girls-turned-women.

But it’s not that easy just to “stay in school.” The girls I work with in Kisumu at K-MET’s Safe Space have dropped out of school, many because they became mothers during their teen years.

A Safe Space Member Working to Start a Tailoring Business

I’ve talked a little with these girls, and have learned some other things about why it is so difficult to stay in school.  I learned that something as simple as “sanitary towels” (or maxipads -there, I said it again-) can make the difference whether or not girls miss 4 days of school each month and get hopelessly behind in their studies.  These products are too expensive to purchase every month, and the alternative is to use unsafe materials (like chopped up pieces of mattresses or old newspapers) which cause infections, leading to more absenteeism.

Look – I realize that you didn’t check the Kiva blog to read about sanitary products. But aren’t you at least slightly incensed by the fact that the lack of these simple supplies keep girls and women from attending school, attending public meetings, or even operating their own businesses for 4 days every month?!

There have even been studies done in East Africa that reflect these statistics: a study in Rwanda by Sustainable Health Enterprises in Rwanda showed that even if girls are provided with scholarship money, “ if we don’t make sanitary pads available they will still miss school because they can’t afford to buy them, girls are missing school 4 days a month during their menses just because the pads are too expensive.”

K-MET, the Kiva Partner where I work, is taking on the challenge to find a sustainable solution to the problem.  Let’s face it; the world didn’t stop turning 50 years ago before they invented these expensive products that are harmful to our environment.   The K-MET team is working to “re-invent” (if you will) a sustainable sanitary towel that is environmentally friendly, can be re-used, and costs a fraction of the amount that the disposable ones do.

Susan, the tailoring tutor at Sisterhood for Change, shows samples that the girls have made

It’s a new project under the umbrella of K-MET’s Sisterhood for Change program, and it’s not yet funded by microfinance, but if it is successful, individual girls could be able to start their own businesses selling these products in their community with some help from Kiva lenders like you!

I think that this is the kind of entrepreneurial venture that makes us all excited in microfinance.  For me, I’m passionate about African women coming up with African solutions to African problems.  These women identified a need and came up with a product that is both financially and environmentally sustainable in the developing world.  And perhaps this is one of those areas where we in the developed world can learn from some African ingenuity.

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Alison Carlman is in her 7th week as a Kiva Fellow in Kisumu, Kenya with K-MET.  She is passionate about women, art, community, and sustainable development, and K-MET is a great host MFI in that regard. Interested in K-MET’s unique approach to microfinance and development? Learn more about K-MET here or join the K-MET lending team here. You can even check for fundraising K-MET loans here.

By Jaclyn Berfond, KF8 Kenya

As one of the last of the KF8 class to arrive in the field – Nairobi, Kenya to be exact – these last two weeks have certainly been a time of transition for me. So you can imagine my surprise, and comfort, when I found that both the MFIs I will be working with – the Small and Micro-Enterprise Programme (SMEP) and Faulu Kenya – were going through their own transitions…

Before I jump into that, however, let me first introduce myself as a newcomer to the Kiva Fellows blog. My name is Jaclyn, and I come from New York, via Geneva, Switzerland. I have been passionate about microfinance for many years, and I am now very excited to have the opportunity to work with not one, but two microfinance institutions here in Kenya!

In the two weeks since I arrived, I have had all sorts of new experiences; eating nyama choma (roast meat) and ugali (a maize-based dish), taking my first matatu (informal taxi vans which are known for loud music and squeezing in as many people as possible), and driving over some of the roughest roads I have ever experienced to visit borrowers in rural towns, Nairobi slums and everything in between. But beyond this very personal (and exciting) transition to a new country, a new culture, I have also been able to learn a little bit about the transition of microfinance going on here in Kenya.

Around 2000, the Kenyan government began looking closely at the microfinance sector – at the importance of providing financial services to those that had been denied access in the past, at the opportunity for alleviating the poverty, at the need to support fledgling MFIs, and at the possibility that an unregulated sector could be dangerous in the wake of several scandals surrounding fraudulent organizations calling themselves MFIs. By May 2008, a new Microfinance Act had come into effect, allowing the Kenyan Central Bank to license, regulate and supervise “deposit-taking microfinance businesses,” defined as institutions that provide loans or other facilities to micro or small enterprises and low income households, and that receive money by way of deposits or interest on deposits. This law not only allowed for the formalization of the microfinance sector, but also allowed select licensed MFIs to begin offering savings products to clients. It was seen as a way to expand financial services for the “unbanked,” as well as promote a culture of saving in Kenya.

So where do SMEP and Faulu fit into this picture? SMEP is a growing MFI here in Kenya, currently reaching about 50,000 clients through 17 branches offices across the country. As with so many up-and-coming MFIs, SMEP began out of a charity – a program of the National Council of Churches of Kenya (NCCK) – and slowly grew into a full-fledged independent MFI, offering a wide variety of financial services. With only about 35 staff in the Nairobi head office, I was immediately welcomed into the SMEP family, introduced to each department and given a personal meeting with all of the management team. Beyond the warm hospitality (where I have been offered upwards of four cups of Kenyan tea a day!) the main topic of conversation in each of these meetings was “transition.” You see, SMEP was one of nine MFIs in Kenya to have applied to become a licensed Deposit-Taking Microfinance Institution.  They are expecting their letter of approval any day, and I could just feel the excitement that this move was generating. In the past, MFIs in Kenya had operated largely outside the formal banking system, and SMEP felt that this had prohibited the type of organizational growth they were seeking. A license from the Central Bank would legitimize them in the eyes of their clients, and more importantly in the eyes of potential clients…allowing them to reach even more Kenyans!

In addition, SMEP rightly felt that the license would allow them to further emphasize the importance of saving. To date, SMEP could only take deposits as collateral on a loan, and this limited the organization’s ability to encourage their clients to save – seen as a crucial component of using microfinance to alleviate poverty. The new license will allow SMEP to offer savings accounts, with interest, thereby allowing SMEP and its clients to grow together.  Recognizing the importance of this move, all departments at SMEP are in full transition mode in order to ensure that they will meet the requirements for the new license. I truly hope that the letter of approval comes during my time here!

All this anticipatory excitement surrounding transition did not prepare me for my experience upon entering Faulu Kenya, which on June 16^th became the first MFI in Kenya to officially receive the new Deposit-Taking Microfinance Institution license (as was noted on a large sign hanging above the reception desk in their head office)! Faulu is a leader in the Kenyan microfinance world.  With over 90 branches throughout the country, serving over 225,000 clients, Faulu has grown immensely from its roots as a pilot program of Food for the Hungry International. Faulu can be seen everywhere, from the purple buildings it brands along the highway out of the city, to the staff walking around proudly in their purple and orange t-shirts. And with the new license, Faulu is prepared to really take off. On my first day, as we drove to meet with borrowers, we made a pit-stop at the site of what will hopefully become one of Faulu’s new “bank” branches. As I stood in a dusty old building, with Faulu’s newly appointed Kiva coordinator, the local branch manager, and a real estate agent discussing location, price, and the possibility of painting the building purple, I could tell this was a new era for Faulu and all were excited to be a part of it!

In general, I think this represents a really exciting time for microfinance in Kenya and I am so happy I get to witness the transition firsthand!

I also wanted to say a quick word on how I came to be working with two microfinance institutions, a bit different than the typical Kiva Fellowship. The Kiva team has been doing such a great job of bringing on new partner MFIs that both SMEP and Faulu joined within the past month! As a soon-to-be-deployed fellow, I was asked to spend some time with both organizations, getting them started posting on Kiva – and all the other fun stuff that comes with a new partnership! We had a very exciting week, with both SMEP and Faulu posting their first entrepreneurs to the Kiva website. I am certain that working with two organizations will only further enrich my Kiva Fellowship experience, which I am so excited to have the opportunity to share with you!

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Jaclyn Berfond is serving as a Kiva Fellow in Kenya, working with two new Kiva field partners – The Small and Micro-Enterprise Programme (SMEP) and Faulu Kenya. Click here to view currently fundraising loans from SMEP, and here to see currently fundraising loans from Faulu.

By Joel Carlman, KF8 – Kisumu Medical & Education Trust – Kisumu, Kenya

Over the years, there have been many entries on this site (and on many others) about the popular topic of group lending.  The fact that borrowers gather once a week, or once a month to deal with any issues they might have or to keep each other accountable is incredible.  That group lending has tended to lead to higher repayment rates is a fun little factoid that practitioners of microfinance love to point out.  But, that only represents the utility of group lending.  Yes, it works, but it’s also beautiful in practice.

Recently, I had the chance to travel a few hours south of Kisumu to two borrower groups.  One is located in the rural community of Bware, and the other in the more urban-feeling town of Rongo.  Both groups taught me a lot about what group lending is all about, and why, besides serving a utilitarian function, it can also be beautiful.

Our first stop was a relatively brief one in Bware, a small community in the rural area outside of Migori, the bustling border town you cross just before entering Tanzania.  When we pulled up in our vehicle, I could hear singing and clapping.  The women (this group is all women) scooted close together on their make-shift bench to allow me a spot while several of their peers led the group in a traditional song of celebration.  They were happy to see each other, and to be a part of something that was good for them and for their community.

After the payments were collected, and the members allowed time to bring up any issues they might have on their mind, we were on our way to Rongo.  The members of the Rongo group—once again all women—were waiting patiently as we arrived at the field in front of the town hall.  I was quickly introduced to the leadership board of the group: chairperson, treasurer, and secretary; and then I was told the name of the group: ROCOSHP (like “roh-coh-shop”) which stands for Rongo Community Orphan Support and Healthcare Programme—there isn’t even anything in the name that mentions loans or microfinance!

These women were organized not around getting money, but around the shared vision of supporting the disadvantaged children and families in their community.  For me, it was just another example of how innovative K-MET has been in using microfinance to come alongside initiatives that are working and give them a big boost.  The group was passionate about their mission—evidenced when they asked a small man named Jack to stand (I hadn’t seen him when we first arrived).  As soon as he stood, I realized that the sport coat he was wearing hung close to his torso—he was missing both of his arms.  The chairwoman told me that the group was holding a fundraiser the following week in order to raise money to buy Jack at least one prosthetic arm (but they were shooting for two).

The group seemed incredibly close knit, though there were close to a hundred women in attendance.  They were laughing with each other and smiles could be seen all around—and yet they took their businesses very seriously, and have an intense system for self-monitoring.  The women screen all new loan applicants themselves.  When a small group of new borrowers is formed, they are paraded in front of the larger group of 50 or 60 people.  The loan amounts they have applied for are announced to the entire group, and all of the other members are allowed to chime in and say any reasons why this person might not be able to repay their loan.  It reminded me of the part in weddings where the minister says, “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” only here, women actually speak their piece.  Many times, K-MET approves a person for a 30,000 Kshs loan, and yet the group decides that they should start with a smaller amount, or sometimes, not get a loan at all.  In fact, some members in attendance had been denied a loan the month before—and they were still attending the meetings!  The group dynamic is a very powerful one, and K-MET tries to empower them as much as possible by allowing them to making these decisions on their own.

Once a month, at a gathering like this, the existing borrowers make their payments.  If even a single payment is missing from the entire group, the new borrowers don’t get their money that month.  Usually, in a missing repayment situation, the people who did not pay have their names read aloud, and questions are asked regarding their whereabouts.  If they can’t be located, other members from the group will make the payments for them, and deal with collecting the missing funds themselves during the month.

After leaving the Rongo group, I had a lot of thoughts about this model of microfinance.  From everything I have seen, it works.  But it turns out that the encounter I had that day was less about microfinance and more about community.  I thought of the African idea of Ubuntu— I am because we are.  In the context of rural Kenya, the group meeting, the sharing of burdens, the accountability of each member, and the dedication to impacting one’s community just works.  It might not work in India or Indonesia or Mexico or even neighboring Tanzania—or maybe it works in a different form.  All I can say is that I met these women, and it works for them.  I began to wonder if something like this would ever work in the U.S.—to an extent, American individualism has allowed people to achieve success without being tied down by other people.  But, in this context, one of the reasons for these women’s success is that their businesses, their families, and their futures are tied together.

Joel Carlman is in his 5th week as a Kiva Fellow with K-MET in Kisumu, Kenya.  To learn more about becoming a Kiva Fellow, click here.  To join K-MET’s lending team, click here.

By Alison Carlman, KF8 – Kenya

As a graduate student of International Development at an African university, I wish that the answer was as simple as finding the “one thing” to alleviate poverty.  For marketing purposes, NGOs and “experts” tell us that the answer is so simple, whether it’s access to clean water, economic liberalization, universal healthcare, education, modernization, or microfinance. But 50 years of “Development” in practice teaches us that it’s not so black and white.

Kiva will be the first to tell you: microfinance is not the solution to poverty.  Provision of financial services is simply an important part of helping people improve their lives; microfinance is only a “tool” that can help people to meet a portion of their basic physical, social, psychological, and spiritual needs.

Alison at K-MET with Deborah, the Coordinator of the Food Security Program.

I’m working with Kisumu Medical & Education Trust (K-MET), a reproductive health organization in Kenya.  One of the many services that K-MET provides is reproductive health education and life-skills training to at-risk young girls ages 10-24.  These girls are often young mothers, survivors of rape and unsafe abortion, children of polygamous families, girls who had to drop out of school and work as prostitutes in order to meet theirs and their families’ basic needs.

A loan alone won’t solve these girls’ problems; they need counseling, support, marketable skills, food, daycare, education, encouragement, mentorship…. the list goes on.

K-MET's Sisterhood For Change trainees practicing their hairdressing skills

K-MET works to empower these girls with information about their health and their rights; they are trained as peer educators to share the information with their family and friends. The girls go through an extensive 6-month training that includes drama, sports and poetry to explore these issues.  But K-MET found that the information just wasn’t enough.  They saw that the girls were still dependent on men for income, and therefore still vulnerable to early pregnancies and HIV. So K-MET added extensive vocational training to the curriculum; the girls each learn marketable skills (hairdressing, tailoring, catering) so that they could earn their own incomes.

Unfortunately, after 60 girls graduated from the intensive K-MET program, only 12 girls were able to find jobs or to start their own businesses to meet their own needs.  So back to the drawing board – K-MET began Safe Space, a “phase 2” launching space for graduates to develop their business skills together using K-MET space and equipment, allowing them to save up their own income and move out on their own when they’re ready.  A “pilot program” has been started with 12 graduates to help launch them into their own private businesses, which we *HOPE* will begin with Kiva loans in the near future.

Participants of the Safe Space Entreprenurial Training

But the girls have to be ready to run their own businesses. The microfinance textbook tells you that to get a micro-loan you must have economic opportunity.  These girls were trained in entrepreneurial skills – they wrote business plans and marketing strategies.  They even have significant income-generating abilities (in catering, hairdressing, and tailoring).  But they are trying to operate their businesses in a slum – business is slow-going, and motivation is lacking.

Milena, the Kiva Fellow who helped launch the Safe Space before me, described her angst with getting the girls off the ground: “I would smile. I would pump my fists in excitement. I would lure them with cookies. Still, they seemed disinterested.”  Milena made a phenomenal effort, and I’m now here to continue what she helped to begin – if I can figure out how. “Ok – hairdressing department, if you have three days where you meet your sales targets in a row, you can give me mzungu (white person) braids.”

On the books, the girls are ready. They are empowered. They have information. They have support. They have mentors and they have skills. But I wonder – will they make it? Will they leave the K-MET nest and go out on their own to successful businesses where they can support their families?

What other things need to happen in Kisumu and Kenya to provide the right economic, political, and public health environments to enable their success?  Joel, (my husband, also a Kiva Fellow) and I often speak of the opposing “poverty” and “prosperity” poles that each of us are tied to because of where we are born.  He and I, only by chance, are fortunate to be tied to the “prosperity” pole that includes safety nets of insurance, education, and health.   But how do things like the men’s view of women in Kisumu keep these girls tied to a pole of poverty, despite whatever steps they make in a positive direction?

Development is not a one-sided issue. There is no “silver bullet” to fight poverty. I stand behind the belief that microfinance is an important, powerful tool for development.  But, as Kiva lenders, may we not give up the other valiant fights that we each believe in when it comes to equality, sanitation, democracy, education and public health – and the many other pieces to the picture that is ‘Development’.

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Alison Carlman is in her 4th week as a KF8 Kiva Fellow in Kisumu, Kenya with K-MET.  Join the K-MET lending team here, or see if K-MET has any fundraising loans posted!  Alison is also an MPhil student at Stellenbosch University studying Community and Development.  She is not totally excited about getting “mzungu braids” – but… whatever it takes…

By John Briggs, KF8 Kenya

Update on sentiment shift: On June 23, Tom, the team captain for the (formerly) Pissed Off Kiva Lenders, changed the team name to Unhappy Kiva Lenders. Tom explained the name change in a posting on the team page: “I want the day to come soon when the team name will be ‘Delighted Again Kiva Lenders’ but the step above in the name change reflects current progress.”

Some Kiva lenders are pissed off about Kiva’s recent launch of loans to borrowers in the United States. Their angry cry has been heard in Kenya.

I arrived in Kenya two weeks ago to work with new Kiva field partner KADET. My marathon orientation-and-training tour is in full swing: this week I met dozens of KADET branch personnel in the western cities of Kisumu and Eldoret.

Successfully setting up Kiva-related operations poses many challenges for MFIs, but my new KADET colleagues made quick work of it. Both branches were able to post borrowers to Kiva on the same day they were introduced to it: Kisumu posted Maulyne’s loan and Eldoret posted Monicah’s loan.

Both loans were funded overnight, and the KADET staff was jubilant. At the Eldoret branch I joined KADET staff in poring over the Kiva lenders and lending teams who had supported Monicah. One lending team for Monicah’s loan jumped out at us: the Pissed Off Kiva Lenders.

Pissed off lenders? People at KADET were surprised. This wasn’t in the Kiva orientation I’d given them. Stephen Makanga, KADET’s integration and donor relations manager, and I decided to open the Pissed Off Kiva Lenders team page to find out more.

Image from the Pissed Off Kiva Lenders' team page

A statement on the page announced, “Kiva’s stated mission is to ‘alleviate poverty’. Poverty is defined as: ‘the state of having little or no money and few or no material possessions’. Does that sound more like the situation for US Kiva borrowers or borrowers from the Third World countries?”

Stephen gave the page an incredulous stare and kept reading.

“Now the truly impoverished are being asked to COMPETE for funds with borrowers in the US. The US is the wealthiest and most resource-full nation in world history. To think that we are asking lenders from the US and around the world to even consider lending to the US is a shameful, disgraceful decision.”

The sharp criticism went on.

“There was a recent Kiva loan request from a US man with a four year college degree in architecture and many years experience in that field. He decided he wanted to do something different and try his hand at website design. He was looking for $7000. If he gets it that’s $7000 which previously would have been available to 7-10 other borrowers in developing countries.”

After reading the whole statement, Stephen turned and looked at me. He waited a moment before he began to speak. “First of all, I believe there are poor people in the U.S. — forget about the wealth of the nation. If someone can reach those poor people because they understand their poverty, I have no problem with that. It’s okay.”

Stephen continued, “Poverty isn’t so simple — it’s a complex web comprising material deprivation, state of mind, and underutilized potential.”

He paused for a moment, and then turned to the Pissed Off Lenders’ criticism of the loan to the U.S. Kiva borrower who quit his job at an architecture firm in order to start his own business.

“I have a brother who stays at home and does vegetable farming. Whenever I go home, I don’t like having to give him money. Instead I like asking what he can do better than what he’s currently doing. The point is: what is more productive for him under his circumstances? If the man who worked in architecture is more productive being a web designer, then people should support him. It’s not like we’re short of people who can continue to support small loans on Kiva — this one won’t seriously affect the equation and supply and demand of small loans. I would be encouraged if that architect became more productive, and then was able to himself become a lender on Kiva.”

I thought about what he’d said, and was inclined to agree. But the Pissed Off Lenders still had a great point — what if competition from large loans to U.S. borrowers on Kiva began to crowd out funding for borrowers in places like Kenya? That would be unwelcome. I asked Stephen what he thought about that possibility.

“I believe there are people at Kiva who are watching to see if small entrepreneurs’ demands are being met,” he answered, adding, “If the demand for these bigger loans by U.S. entrepreneurs goes overboard, the Kiva people will obviously see it and put a check on it. The only time I would worry if is there were a shortage of people funding small loans, but before it would get to that point, I believe that the people at Kiva would have already taken action.”

Even though Stephen has just made Kiva’s acquaintance, it’s clear he trusts the judgment of its decision makers. To a point, however — he continued, “If the worst came to worst, KADET or other MFIs would still have access of loan capital, except those other sources are more expensive. I am also aware that there other peer-to-peer lenders, such as MYC4, although for MFIs their terms slightly different than Kiva.”

I nodded. Stephen had nailed it: While Kiva has helped fund over $75 million in loans so far, its contribution to microfinance funding represents a sliver of the multi-billion dollar microcredit industry. And Kiva, the first mover in person-to-person microlending, is beginning to get competition from other websites with a similar model, giving MFIs more of a choice of which organization they choose to partner with.

Moreover, as microfinance has come into its own, institutional investors with deep pockets have been aggressively courting many MFIs, albeit investors primarily interested in financial, not social, returns. So even if Kiva has misjudged by partnering with lenders that fund U.S. borrowers, its non-U.S. lending partners still have a variety of options of which to avail.

For all his faith in Kiva, Stephen did have one doubt related to Kiva’s launch of lending to U.S. borrowers. Towards the end of our conversation he said, “I have just recently learned that the individual loan limit for U.S. borrowers on Kiva is $10,000, but in Kenya and most other countries it’s only $1,200. I don’t like this at all.”

Stephen explained, “There are different categories of microfinance borrowers in Kenya who require loans that are far beyond the limit of $1,200.” He paused and looked at me intently, adding, “My last word is: it’s high time that Kiva think about revising the loan limits for countries like Kenya.”

I’d agree. Kiva’s limit on an individual loan size is $10,000 for borrowers in the U.S., $3,000 for borrowers in some countries in Eastern Europe, Central Asia, and the Middle East, and $1,200 for borrowers elsewhere. Kiva’s limits on loan sizes are usually pegged at or above the average size of microloans for a given country, but for most countries the limits haven’t been adjusted in a long time. If you’re a microentrepreneur in Kenya, $1,200 may not get you very far.

In working with KADET, I ran an analysis of loan disbursals the MFI made for the month of May and found many of them didn’t qualify for Kiva. Most of the disqualifed ones were below $2,000, and often they were just above the $1,200 loan limit. Group loan limits of an average of $400 per borrower also crimped things.

There were, however, more than enough smaller loans that qualified for Kiva to meet KADET’s fundraising target, so shutting out larger loans wasn’t a serious problem. It simply meant that a narrower range of KADET borrowers would make it to Kiva; borrowers with smaller loans tend to be newer (and riskier) KADET clients, while the ones that get larger loans are established clients who have proved their mettle and business acumen. Limit or not, KADET is committed to representing as many different kinds of its borrowers as possible on Kiva, small and large.

Like Stephen, I have faith in Kiva and the braintrust that has made it such a success. I’d imagine revisions to loan limits are in the works, especially with the advent of lending to U.S. borrowers.

I’m curious to find out what you think — should Kiva raise its loan limits? If so, should it be done on a universal basis, or should it be done on a country-by-country basis?

More on Kiva’s launch of U.S. lending: an open letter from Kiva President Premal Shah and CEO Matt Flannery about pilot partnerships in the U.S.; a Kiva Friends discussion of USA Lending; the Pissed Off Kiva Lenders page; and an earlier blog post I wrote, “Upending microcredit: Cambodians use Kiva to lend to U.S. borrowers“.

Kiva borrower Maulyne Obura and Stephen Makanga in Kisumu

Stephen Makanga is from Emali, Makueni District, Eastern Province, Kenya. Growing up, his father and mother were subsistence farmers who grew corn, beans, vegetables, and coffee (“when the industry was still good”), and raised livestock such as cows and goats. He has four sisters and five brothers, and is the youngest among his siblings. Stephen is the only one in his family to have attended university, though one brother attended a teacher training college and is now a primary school teacher. Stephen attended Egerton University in Nakuru, working his way through school as a public high school teacher; he got some support from his parents, but he also took out loans from the Higher Education Loans Board, which he’s still paying off at the age of 40. He graduated in 1994 with a degree in agricultural economics.

After graduation, it was hard for Stephen find steady employment, so he took a series of small teaching jobs. In 1997, he got a job with the Ministry of Agriculture as an agricultural extension officer, training farmers as a beekeeping specialist. He left his government position in 2000 to work for World Vision Kenya. At World Vision, he started as a program coordinator for a small food security project in the northeast of Kenya. He went on to be a program manager in charge of the Wajir (district in NE Kenya) relief and rehabilitation program. After that, he moved to Monitoring and Evaluation for the coast region of World Vision Kenya. A year later, Stephen became the program manager overseeing all World Vision development programs for coastal Kenya. He joined KADET, which is owned by World Vision, in 2007 as the manager of Integration and Donor Relations.

John Briggs is a Kiva Fellow serving with the Kenya Agency for Development of Enterprise and Technology (KADET) (KF8). Before being posted in Kenya, he worked with Kiva field partners Ahon Sa Hirap, Inc. (ASHI) (KF7) in the Philippines and Maxima Mikroheranvatho (KF6) in Cambodia.

Joel Carlman – Kisumu, Kenya – KF8

Hello from Kisumu, Kenya! After 36 hours of flying and several very sound nights of sleep, I’m writing you from the offices of Kisumu Medical and Education Trust (K-MET), our Kiva field partner! I say our because I have the privilege of working alongside my wife, Alison Carlman throughout our Kiva Fellowship. What an experience!

After arriving at the tiny Kisumu airport on Monday evening, we were able to settle into our temporary housing on the K-MET “complex.” We were in a bit of a daze from the sleepless flights and harrowing airport encounters trying to convince airport personnel in every country that we traveled through that they should exempt us from the charges levied on overweight baggage. Since when is 30kg a person overweight!?

Moving on.

The Kenyan experience thus far has been wonderful. From Ekesa, the administrative manager who picked us up from the airport, to the administrative staff, to John Asuke, the director of the revolving loan fund, to the staff at the field offices—everyone we have encountered at K-MET—and in Kenya in general—has warmed our hearts to an unexpected extent. We are so excited to be able to work with this group of exceptional people!

I have to say, I feel so blessed to be working with my wife, Alison! We have been lucky to volunteer together on several continents, but I’m sure our Kiva Fellowship will prove to be our biggest adventure yet. The people we will meet (and have already met), the adventures we will live, the challenges we will face, and the growth we will experience will no-doubt conspire to change us. These times stretch us, inspire us, encourage us, and even sometimes defeat us. But, when all is said and done, I am so excited that the growth Alison and I will experience will be in the same direction. It is one of the greatest opportunities for our marriage that I can imagine. Thanks, Kiva, for affording us the chance to walk this road together!

With that said, Alison and I have tried to imagine a scenario in which two married fellows can synergize to accomplish more than the sum of our parts. Wish us luck, as we definitely have big shoes to fill! The recent fellows that have paved the way for us—Brett Dobbs, Milena Arciszewski, and Sarah Forbes have pioneered programmes, established relationships in the community, helped K-MET to become more sustainable, and otherwise established themselves amongst the ranks of Kiva Fellow All-Stars. They deserve a huge hand for going above and beyond the Kiva call of duty.

As reported in many previous blog entries, K-MET is an organization that affords a unique look into the organic outpouring of the hearts of people passionate about development, health, and education. They have been able to leverage micro-finance in a very unique way, and we are excited to both learn from and contribute to this organization. Watch this space for the further adventures of the Carlman family in Kenya!

Joel Carlman is in the fourth day of his Kiva Fellowship. Click here to find out more about the Kiva Fellows program and here to find out more about what K-MET is doing in Kisumu, Kenya.

Kiva is a crowdsourcer.

Crowds of lenders are the source of funds for Kiva borrowers. A very recent milestone quietly appeared on the Kiva statistics page — over half a million lenders have funded borrower loans on the Kiva website. That’s one big crowd!

There’s also a crowd of volunteers and avid Kiva boosters: hundreds of volunteer editors and translators, dozens of Kiva Fellows in the field, umpteen heroic souls who volunteer at Kiva headquarters in San Francisco, and the nearly five-thousand-strong group of Kiva Friends, the best compadres ever.

It’s good company to keep. Much of our interaction is in, and uniquely facilitated by, the electronic ether (the Internets, a series of tubes). Face-to-face meetings may never occur, but can be a cause for celebration when they do.

So there I was, on a Nairobi-bound airplane, headed for my posting as a Fellow at KADET. After my third packet of courtesy pretzels, mid-flight curiosity gripped me: what was the woman next to me, elbow-deep in paper, working on so intently?

“I’m going to Nairobi for a microfinance conference.” she said.

Her name is Aimee Sostowski, and she’s in Nairobi for the Diagnostic to Action: Microfinance in Africa Multi-Stakeholder Conference, sponsored by the organization for which she works, Women’s World Banking.

“A microfinance conference?” I replied. “Small world. I’m with Kiva as a volunteer who’s been posted in Kenya.”

Before I could ask if she knew what Kiva is, her face lit up and she said, “Kiva? I’m a Kiva volunteer, too!”

Aimee is a volunteer translator for Kiva, specializing in Spanish-to-English work. Small world indeed.

Aimee’s been volunteering for Kiva since the Spring of 2008, and told me stories from the translation corps. It’s a labor of love, and good for her Spanish. She’s learned a lot about Peru in the course of her work, as many of her translation assignments hailed from there. The only thing she has difficulty with is templated business profiles: it’s just not as interesting to translate something that’s nearly identical, again and again.

Modesty becomes Aimee. I asked how many profiles she translates a week, and after a pause she said, “About six a week, maybe more.” A search on Google reveals the hundreds of profiles she’s translated.

If two’s company, and Kiva’s a crowd, then we were some seriously serendipitous and crowded company. I ordered another round of pretzels to celebrate.

Not lost in translation: John Briggs and Aimee Sostowksi at the airport in Nairobi

The inner workings of the editorial and translation volunteer corps are revealed in Kieran Ball’s January 2009 post on the Fellows’ blog, “Volunteer Editor Helps Kiva Entrepreneur Reach Her Goal.” Also see Tamara Sanderson’s reflections on her volunteer experience at Kiva, when she served as head of marketing and recruitment for Kiva’s volunteer Fellows and Translation Programs in late 2008.

John Briggs is a Kiva Fellow serving with the Kenya Agency for Development of Enterprise and Technology (KADET). Before being posted in Kenya, he worked with Kiva field partners Ahon Sa Hirap, Inc. (ASHI) in the Philippines and Maxima Mikroheranvatho in Cambodia.

If you’ve got the itch, scratch it! Consider becoming a Kiva Fellow, or if you speak Arabic, Armenian, Bahasa Indonesia, Dari, French, Khmer, Mongolian, Nepali, Pashto, Portuguese, Russian, Spanish, Swahili, Tagalog, Thai, Urdu, or Vietnamese, think about putting your name to be a Kiva volunteer translator.

By Brett Dobbs, KF7 Kenya

While an estimated half of Kenyans with AIDS are receiving anti-retroviral treatment, only about a third of Kenyan children are. In a Feb. 5th 2009 report issued by Human Rights Watch, the authors listed two primary reasons for the gap in care. The first, familiar to those in micro finance, is the lack of access to major health centers. Like banks, the best hospitals are located in major urban centers and cater to the slim minority that can afford steep hospital bills.

Second, many caregivers do not take their children for testing because of “stigma attached to the illness, misinformation, neglect or lack of resources.” At K-MET, Executive Director Monica Oguttu is familiar with these problems.

A third problem stems from something not listed in the HRW report. Many of the nurse or midwife run clinics that serve as many as 400 clients a week, do not offer child welfare services. With limited resources, clinicians often focus on serving adults because they are more likely to come in for treatment and more likely to pay. K-MET, fortunately, has an answer for this:

As mentioned in the video, Monica, Asuke and other members of K-MET staff encourage (but do not require) clinicians to use part of their loans to develop child welfare services with a simple argument. “If you serve the children, their mothers will come and you will have a new client.” It works.

A few weeks ago, I spent three days traveling the central provinces of Kenya with Asuke and Monica to both sign up new clinics (run by nurses, midwives, also known as Primary Providers or PP’s) and witnessed the marked differences between clinics that received our loans (and began child welfare services) and those that didn’t. Clinics that I had seen months earlier without sterilization equipment, private rooms or labs were outfitted with all three. Clinics that refused remained cramped, dirty and had fewer clients.

Below, is a video of Rose Otieno, one of the first clinicians who received a K-MET loan and who has grown her business while offering more services. She also acts as an advocate in Central Kenya and has visited scores of clinicians in her region, encouraging them to take K-MET loans and start child welfare services.

Brett Dobbs is in his 14th (ish) week of his posting as a Kiva Fellow with K-MET in Kisumu, Kenya. Check out the K-MET Lending Team here! If you’re interested in becoming a Kiva Fellow, click here!

What I’m writing to tell you about is M-PESA! Usually it doesn’t have an exclamation point after it, but I put one there because every time I think about it, I get very excited. M-PESA!

Long story short, M stands for mobile and Pesa is Kiswahili for money. It’s a service that Safaricom, the most popular cell phone service in Kenya, offers (Zain, its largest competitor offers a similar service). Touted as a “branchless banking service”  M-PESA users can deposit and withdraw money on their phone by utilizing a network of agents stationed throughout the country – mostly airtime vendors and phone salesman. Why might this be helpful?

Pretend you are John Asuke, the lone loan officer (I’ve been waiting months to write that) here at K-MET’s Revolving Loan Fund. You’ve got a borrower base that stretches from the shores of Lake Victoria to the Indian Ocean (the whole country), a staff of one Kiva Fellow (that’s me!), large loads of small loans to process and businesses in communities that lack the infrastructure that encourages efficiency. Challenging conditions, but K-MET does a pretty good job of keeping costs down given these constraints. One strategy in particular, weekly group repayment and disbursal meetings instead of home visits, decreases costs significantly. Of course, group meetings are also  inefficient. Watch this video (with sound if you have it) and you’ll see what I mean.

You may have noticed a few hundred borrowers sitting in a very hot church waiting to receive or pay back their loans. As I mentioned earlier, they must do this once a week – often walking many miles (sometimes through the rain) or spending as much as half a day’s wages on their transport. This is inefficient, dangerous, and frustrating. It is pretty easy to understand why having these borrowers repay their loans via mobile might vastly improve efficiency. And it is really easy to use. Watch my two colleagues, Nick and Debra exchange 10 shillings worth of air-time via mobile.

There are, of course obstacles for MFI’s that want to use mobile banking. Many loan officers (including Asuke) fear that borrowers will be less diligent in repaying their loans, groups lose their community aspect, in K-MET’s case, it would take away face time with the community health workers who make up the bulk of our borrowers  — and because it’s a new service that utilizes both humans and technology – there’s going to be a bevy of issues. In addition, while some of the borrowers I talked to were thrilled with the idea, many do not own cell-phones and there was concern about borrowing phones to pay money. Still, Safaricom and the Small and Micro Enterprise Program just announced a new partnership that will allow customers of SMEP to use M-Pesa.

Now, beyond micro-finance, if there are any super-awesome-rich-entrepreneur types reading this (besides Peter Thiel, he’s already all over this…sort of), this better have your wheels churning. As far as I know, there are only a few other countries/companies that offer this service: Afghanistan, Tanzania, South Africa, a pilot program in Uganda and two very successful services in the Philippines. I read recently (on the BBC) that just a few years ago, there were $93 billion in remittances transferred from abroad to Africa every year. Think if you could tap into that market…while at the same time providing a much needed service!

In any case, if you want to read more about M-Banking, check out these articles and links (thanks to fellow Fellow Sarah Forbes for these!):
www.triplejump.eu/making-microfinance-mobile.html
www.mobile-money-transfer.com/africa/
www.valuablebits.com
http://mbanking.blogspot.com/

Brett Dobbs is in his 12th week of his posting as a Kiva Fellow with K-MET in Kisumu, Kenya. Check out the K-MET Lending Team here! If you’re interested in becoming a Kiva Fellow, click here!

I am living in Kisumu, Kenya. Here is a picture of the street where I volunteer, in the Nyalenda slum.

Walking around the slum, one quickly comes across evidence of the post election violence.  Burned buildings are common.  As are random herds of goats.

White people in Kisumu are usually in self-contained SUVs.  Not too many ever enter the Nyalenda slum.  As a result, as I walk, I am usually chased by children.

If I stay in one place for too long, they gather to stare.

In the slum, you find many teenage girls.  Their stories show a lot of common themes.

I am 20 years old.  My parents passed away when I was 14.  A lack of school fees made me leave school.  We were left 10 children.  Everyone searched for places to stay but I was left alone and went to be a street girl.  A guy hired me as a maid but forced me to have sex.  Within one month he raped me and I was pregnant.  I went to the Kenyan police and they did not take any action about that case.  They wanted money but I didn’t have even a single cent to give them.  I became a mother of a child but there was no job or anything to do.  I wake up early in the morning to wash clothes for people.  They only give me 50 shillings (*equivalent of less than $1USD) in order to get food to eat with my child.  Without washing clothes, we go to sleep hungry. If I can get someone to take care of me and return me back to school, then I can be proud and be happy as some people are.  Maybe my life can change and I can be someone different.

I’m a girl of age 20 years.  I dropped out of school in 2005 because I did not have money to continue my education.  I have been staying at home doing nothing.  I have no money to start a business.  I have no knowledge of anything.  I tried to convince my father to look for money to take me to high school but he did not.  I have been walking day and night to look for employment even as a housemaid but the salary is as low as 100 shillings a month (*$1.31 USD per month).  There is a time I succeeded in getting employment in a rich man’s house.  He promised to pay me well but was exploiting me sexually.  When I threatened to report him he sent me away.  I was frustrated beyond words.

I am 22 years old.  I am the first born in a family of five.  I live with my mother and step-father and dropped out of school.  I used to go clubbing and really had a bad company.  I got pregnant and now I have a kid, he’s 2.5 years old.  Life has been so hard I even tried marriage to find happiness and comfort.  I was married to a young man who gave me everything but mistreated me and my kid.  I had no choice but to stay with him since he provided me everything.  Nobody cared about me.  My husband was cheating on me but there was nothing I could do.  Now I am HIV positive.

A Sisterhood for Change participant posing with her child

Kisumu Medical and Education Trust (“KMET”) is one of KIVA’s partners.  In 2006, KMET created a program to address the seemingly hopeless situation for teenage girls.  KMET recruited orphans, single mothers, high school drop-outs, HIV/AIDs patients and commercial sex workers for a program called Sisterhood for Change.  The stories above are taken from profiles written by the girls recruited by the program.

Susan teaches tailoring skills to an SFC girl

When Sisterhood for Change began, KMET expected that upon graduation, the girls would immediately get jobs in local communities.  Unfortunately, Kisumu just… doesn’t have jobs.  So even with their new vocational skills, the girls were still unemployed and relying upon men for income.

So KMET conceptualized an idea for Safe Spaces.  KMET has purchased a building in the Nyalenda slum and stocked it with the equipment needed to run tailoring, hairdressing and catering businesses.  KMET will train the girls in business and entrepreneurship, and then they will be free to work in the Safe Space for as long as they wish.  The girls will be purchasing supplies using KIVA loans.
For a long time, I wondered whether it could work.  We held a lot of preliminary meetings to discuss our plans for the Safe Spaces, and the girls usually yawned in indifference.  I would smile. I would pump my fists in excitement.  I would lure them with cookies.  Still, they seemed disinterested.

But now it’s actually happening! They are working in the Safe Spaces, selling french fries, avocado juice, and sassy hairstyles. Training takes place from April 29th-May 7th, with the generous help fof the Child at Venture Foundation. I still sometimes wonder if they are ready.  I still sometimes wonder if Muhammad Yunus would approve.  These girls really are the poorest of the poor, and we are trained that microfinance is not always effective with that group.  Will high school drop outs be able to run their own businesses?  We’ll find out…

Would Muhammad Yunus lend to us?

Milena Arciszewski is a year-long Kiva Fellow.  She has been in Kenya since January 2009, helping to develop the Safe Space initiative.  She loves getting emails, and can be reached at milena.kathryn@gmail.com.