Kenya. 19th June.

The next day was my groups "day off" from Wagwer, thankfully, as we had all been woken at five in the morning to the sound of a clanging bell of some sort. This woke everyone in the campsite, mumbling could be heard from every tent. At first rumor spread that it was the neighbour getting his revenge due to the noise made the night before because of a snake. But later the truth came out that this bell rang every morning, it was in fact a wake up call for the kids. I think I would have rathered the revengeful neighbour, at least them we wouldn't be woken up every morning!

As our group wasn't going to Wagwer today, were brought to another nearby school called Naysidi. This school had been in a similar state to Wagwer school, until a group from non-other than Derry renovated it. The school looked really fantastic. They had desks, cement floors, proper windows and a nice paint finish. I was both pleased and surprised to see the principal was a woman. No doubt a rare thing in this area. Once again the reaction from the kids was ecstatic, everyone wanted to shake your hand. Also once again, we were invited to come and teach in the school. Unfortunately, this wasn't really possible as everyone who could teach were already taking regular classes at Wagwer.

After our tour around this school we took to the market place. A bustling place where any item wanted or unwanted could be found. The words 'feeling conspicuous' doesn't even come close to what it was like. Sellers almost salivated looking at us and our big wallets! We were shouted out from all sides. One fantastic thing which came from this experience was my introduction to sugar cane. It does take a little bit of getting used to, but its also slightly on the addictive side. It was the most sugar I got for two weeks! It was a beautiful start to a beautiful relationship....!From this market place we had to walk a good 40min walk to wagwer. Along this way we passed yet another school. As soon as we passed all the kids ran towards us, sticking their hands through the fence. Two Kenyan nuns who we'd just been chatting to, walked up to the kids. They turned and said to us, "They say they have never seen these orange people before". These kids had never seen white people before, we must have looked like freaks to them. Whats more is that they called us orange, nobody was even wearing fake tan! It must have been the dirt!


When we reached Wagwer we worked for a few hours before heading off to another orphanage, just a few miles from Ulamba orphanage. We had been told about this other orphanage before, Alana, because Moving Mountains had planned to support it until they discovered that the Reverend who runs it is corrupt. The difference between the two was remarkable. Alana was very small and dull with a creepy feeling about the place. Even more noticeable was the difference between the children. The children only smiled when we began to play with them. They found the simplest things entertaining. We had brought them balloons, bubbles and other toys with us. Every child wanted a balloon and to chase bubbles, and for two hours they had the full attention of someone. They laughed, played and had fun. But when we had to leave their smiles faded again and they looked lost. An over-whelming feeling of hopelessness overcame me. We had given these children some hope and joy for only two hours of their life. These were kids, who some of them looked like they had never smiled before in their lives. I couldn't help but feel, while looking at their vacant faces, that many of them had become totally detached from life, because it was easier. They had never even been given a chance, the world had given up on them, so they did too. Now here we all were, fresh, white and privileged showering attention on them just to take it all away again. Like two hours in their lives would ever make a difference. It was that evening that I decided that I had to come back again. I might not make a difference. But I'd try.


The trip to the orphanage had affected the group somewhat. There was a slightly dismayed look in peoples eyes. It was as if everything we'd seen so far had been pushed away from our consciousness, but this just brought everything flooding back in. That day is the day that I found most disturbing, particularly after talking to people who visited the same orphanage the very next day. Reports from these people were of fresh wounds on a three-year boys head that was not there the day before. The very sudden unsociable attitude and distressed cries of kids, who avoided everyone, but had been very pleasant the previous day. The corrupt reverend also decided to show up in his chauffeur-driven new land rover. Finally, the distinct lack of toys of which had been brought by us the previous day. All-in-all, I don't have many fond memories of that orphanage. It made me appreciate Mama Rose even more.


Thankfully, that evening the mood was lightened by some entertainment provided by both the Kenyans and the Irish. Some Céili dancing was in order on our behalf, while the Kenyans sang for us. Including the song which became the theme tune for our trip to Kenya. If you were ever to meet a Kenyan and you asked them to sing a song, no doubt this would be it. The infamous 'Jambo Jambo Bwana' song. We also learnt some Kenyan dances and games. It was a much needed relaxation time enjoyed by all.