After lunch, it was determined that we would go to Kibera - thought to be the largest slum in the world - a place where approximately a million and a half people are crammed into a single square mile of space. We were told that we would simply drive around the outskirts of the slum because conditions there were deemed too dangerous for us to actually go in. Our driver told us about the 'post-election violence' back in December 2008 that resulted in riots in the slum with many people being injured or killed and houses, businesses, and churches being destroyed. According to him, tensions are still high.
Approaching Kibera was completely mind-boggling. From a hill overlooking the slum, Kibera looked to be a jumble of corrugated metal roofs that stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see. The makeshift houses , constructed from whatever the residents were able to scrounge up, sit on layers of compacted trash. Through the middle of the slum runs the Nairobi River, known locally as 'the river of trash'. The residents of Kibera are squatters and must pay rent and 'protection' money - usually in the amount of about $10 per month. This is a hefty fee for someone who makes a dollar a day if he/she is lucky. The people of Kibera suffer due to inadequate food and water supplies, exposure to a multitude of diseases due to lack of sanitation, and little or no education. More often than not, one or more of the adults in a household have HIV/AIDS. An entire generation (25 -35 years old) has already died from the disease. About half of Kibera’s population is under the age of 15 - many households are made up of groups of young children who have lost their parents and don't have other family members to take them in.
After driving around the perimeter of the slum, the driver pulls over and opens the door for us to get out. Apparently, plans have changed - if nothing else, I've learned the importance of flexibility on this trip! We get out, pick our way through the crowded, trash-filled streets - taking great care to avoid the plastic bags. (Remind me someday to tell you about those bags.) I feel more than a little uncomfortable as we walk through the slums in a large group. I'm hoping that we don't look like a group on a 'slum tourism' tour. (They actually have those!) There is so much to see, so much that I'd like to record, yet I don't want to offend or intrude by taking photos of such heart-wrenching and intimate scenes. Besides, I'm sure these images will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life.
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