AN IRANIAN VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION

But Iran is home to one of the world’s oldest civilizations. It has produced influential scientists, scholars, thinkers and artists. This could be the reason why they are able to craft the weapons that Kenya will only dream of owing to the stringent nature of the rules and regulations imposed on nuclear use by the United Nations to all countries aiming at using nuclear energy.Iran engages in charity. This was a first for me. I never new Iranians are that philanthropic. They also know how to interact and engage without sounding or appearing aloof. I have never had any interaction with guys from Iran in my life (TV Yes). I thank Red Cross for the opportunity accorded. Iranians are very cordial and even though some rarely smile (stone face nayo), their affable nature means they easily socialize with strangers easily. 

Ali Khamenei, their Supreme spiritual leader should be a very philanthropic man as the reverence he surmounts to remain an ordinary figure but still loved by all and sundry in the Muslim nation is well an act of modesty.

My dogmatic and parochial nature had made me assume that; all what the people from the Islamic Republic of Iran do was to either engage in the assembly of weapons of mass destruction owing to their nuclear weapons that have given the World Superpower some stomach spiders and relentless headache in an effective ploy of disarmament. Hitherto, in my humble opine they had become synonymous to the Islamic State. 

This reminds me of the former president of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. When he came to Kenya, instead of solely feeling at home among the ruling class and elites, he swallowed his pride and mingled freely with the commoners (mainly Muslims). The brouhaha that was witnessed as he was free of his body guards while interacting was eccentric. He was not only loved in the nation formerly known as Persia but also loved in Kenya (A goodo one). Then his influence was pulverizing in Iran. Their current president is a nuclear expert.

I still cannot comprehend the reason behind the fact that the former world giant in the mediaeval times has continuously been given bad coverage in the international media owing to its hardcore stance on nuclear weapons. The Persians have a history. That they ruled ancient Greece and other vast hegemonies is not a joke. They could have been what USA is currently to the world only that their claim was more to do with actual occupation.

The Iranians have the Red Crescent as opposed to the Red Cross (my guess). 

This year’s valentine’s day, I marked it on a slightly different note. Since I am a bachelor and a single one, I spent it doing stuff other Kenyans of noble cause were also engaged in. 

I remember hearing some ladies say that there were able men and kind of got excited but there are rules guiding on hitting on each other while in the bib indicating you are a volunteer.

This was going to be a voluntary and charitable exercise sponsored by the Red Crescent arm of the Iranian Embassy (I bet) and executed by the Red Cross arm, Nairobi Branch. We were to do community service, it entailed; feeding the less fortunate in society, giving them descent clothing, a place to shower and get medical examination and probably treatment. I never inquired about the nitty gritty. I was responding to an inclusive invite to all and sundry who wanted to join in a good cause. That of engaging in an activity aimed towards bettering humanity which I am passionate about.

When you have to deal with street families, the less fortunate in the City of Nairobi, you are need to be very realistic and avoid disdain. You need not be like the Nairobi divas who will chide anything because they feel like it lowers their dignity and standards they have set. Nairobi wannabees ladies can frustrate you, when I sense I am dealing with one, I feign ignorance and keep it stupid simple (KISS from Robert Kiyosaki’s Rich Dad Poor Dad).

I got to make new friends while participating in the project. Every other time you engage in Red Cross activities, you are bound to see new people irrespective of the fact that you may have spent 10 years or a week. One Peter told me he was in transit back to Alabama having spent his holiday for about a month. The great thing about Red Cross is that you never have to be a registered member to participate in whatever events they carry out. One only needs to volunteer his time and service, alas, you are good to go, there is an assumption everyone is new. 

Dealing with street families is very interesting. While it is usually derogatory and ominous to publicly talk about some stuff in public, those who live on the streets sometimes have no qualms saying it as it is.

There were a set of duties that had to be performed ranging from sanitation, registration, medication and mealation (eating food). I volunteered to do registration as I wanted to have a one on one chance to engage with those who had positively responded to the calling of the event that was taking place. 

Ideally, this was my second time dealing with street families. The first time I dealt with them, I was doing social mobilization. I was kind of timid, jittery and scared of the whole process and procedures. It was scary at first. However, if you have a symbol identifying you are a Red Cross volunteer, they become very social and come en masse to listen. However there are some nasty chaps though.

In their dens, most of those who live on the streets have a leader. Like a police commissioner or an army general, their word is obeyed and never challenged.  Their orders are obeyed like they are law in themselves. When one is reprimanded, they timidly recoil like a centipede does upon touch to be at their defensive. 

Their leader, I was told, are usually given first hand audience with the Nairobi governor or those charged with overseeing thigh plight in the city. They are like a time-bomb. They can marshal their generals to terrorize city residents but still get away with it since human rights organizations may come to their rescue because some survive on the families being on the street.

I remember the first time I had asked one of the street generals about his family and he told me he had three wives and children who he worked hard every day to feed. They were located in various parts of the city where the street families normally live. 

In Nairobi town, they live near Globe Cinema Round-About, Odeon, Muthurwa, Gikomba, Riverside (near Grogan Garage), Ngara, Majengo and a host of other places that I cannot remember.

As I was doing registration, I noticed something. Since the counties surrounding Nairobi are mostly inhabited by Saps (Slang for Kikuyus), a majority of those who live on the streets are Saps. Closely following them in population were Kaos (Kambas). Luos and Luhyas were also among them. Kakamega caught my attention because so many people on the streets of Nairobi were from this county.

I asked a small boy how he managed to travel from Kakamega to Nairobi. He told me he used a bus and upon arrival, he got company to stay with together with his brother. He really wanted to go back to school to further his education.

What mesmerized me was the fact that Kalenjins were among those who also live on the streets. They are very few however. Kalenjins are proud people. They never like some mediocre and below par city associations. They don’t have a slum area associated with them even though they are the third largest community in Kenya. Most prefer farming as opposed to hustling in the scorching heat of Nairobi.

The first dude who caught my attention while registering street families was one dude who was from Nyandarua County. Since it was compulsory to shower and be given new clean clothes, he had done just that. He come on my desk. He was clean, talkative and was high on msii (a drug most street urchins use). I commended him for his sanity and started asking him for his details to capture them on a registration card that was also an import from Iran.

There was this question that read, ‘Do you have any disabilities?’ The answer was supposed to be closed. It was either, ‘Yes or No.’ I rephrased the question in Kiswahili but the dude misconstrued the question altogether. Most of the hobos thought I was asking them of what was ailing them. I realized most had chest problems because of sleeping in the cold without blankets.

“Ndio niko na ulemavu,” he said pointing at his pudenda. “Unaona hii, ni ndogo sana mpaka naskia kama niko na ulemavu na huwa haisimami.” He was demonstrating using half his index finger.

You cannot fail to burst into laughter. He demonstrated other stuff before I asked him whether he was married or not.

“Sasa unaona niko na ulemavu tena unaniuliza kama nimeoa. Si bibi atatoroka akiona sina kitu.” I quickly cleared him since he was destructing the other volunteers from registering his fellow camaraderie as his answers were funny, ear catching and captivating. There were so many to be registered. 

Then there was also this dude probably 25. A certain pretty volunteer, probably just out of high school or in the formative years of campus was filling in his details on the registration card.

When the chic asked him if he was married, he objected by saying no. He went on further and said that he was a virgin and if possible the chic should help him in breaking his chaste status. He also said he was not into drugs but his attire, eyes, talk and teeth kind of betrayed him. 

A middle aged gentleman however caught my attention. He was from Majengo . He was probably from Kambaland owing to his innocuous burr of Kiswahili words.  He came asking for food because the issuance was taking too long much to his chagrin. He bragged about how he was clean since he was given some nice clean pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket. 

He told us that he was even ready to meet the First Lady and tell her of his engineering abilities to possibly get to be given tenders and help in other dudes of national concern especially with her Beyond Zero campaign. His English though, was pathetic and pitiable. You feel like he is breaking all the rules but there is nothing you can do about it.

Before he left, he told us that his major concern was the rehabilitation bit. How could he be reached and if indeed the rehabilitation issue was a reality. He was aptly answered but before he went, he removed his phone from his jacket and showed us his high-end smart phone complete with a leather cover. “You can contact me using this.” We clapped as he sauntered away like a peacock having been praised for his techie gadget which I presumed was either a generic from Mandarin land.

I remember most of the street boys asking me whether there was a ‘course’ they could be taken to do in an institution to be able to have skills and  be productive societal members. There was a close ended question that required them to answer whether they wanted to go back home or to a rehabilitation centre. I rephrased the question by aqsking, “Unataka kurudi nyumbani ama kwenda course?” Most answered in the affirmative.

A certain lady I was registering who came at the exit hours of the registration process was also noticeable among the rest. She said she was past 30; her first child was a form one student. On her back, she had tied clothes so that it looked like she had carried a baby since she had tied the clothes with a baby shawl.

“I was also supposed to register the baby,” I told her. “This are the clothes I was given and I intend to take them to my six year old. That is the reason why I have them on my back”

The lady was from Gatundu South, the president’s home constituency. She was proud of him. She told us she had come to Nairobi to work and had left her mum in the village and since she had nowhere to go, she had decided to live on the streets.

“Si hii figure yangu iko sete,” she exclaimed while gyrating her model-like hips. “Hizi zikipata bwana, zitakuwa kubwa kuliko za Vera Sidika.” While she was saying this, we were again hooked to her story and laughing.

“Kwani munanichekelea?” she retorted. “Hapana, ni vile umetufurahisha sana,” Rachael, our team leader responded while laughing. 

She said the reason why she was not able to complete school was due to the influence of boys. She had tasted the forbidden fruit while still in primary and since it was sweet she wanted it again and again resulting in her dropping out of school. 

Her main concern was to be tested on HIV/AIDS because life on the streets was very risky. She was probably tested but counseling was probably done after testing. There was a psycho social unit to deal with counseling.

I remember beefore going to campus, one of the requirements was to be tested on HIV/AIDS. Our family doctor had insisted on me taking the test. I was never counseled before the procedure neither after. When I went to the lab to pick up the results, I was given the result which was negative. I needed not fear then.

Every question I asked was kind of enlightening and equally educating. For example, there was this lady from Kibra who came to my desk to be registered. There were questions touching on delivery of babies and pregnancies. She said she was 30 years. She had had 5 children and lived with all of them. She was not among those from the streets but because anyone was entitled to medical check-up, she had turned up.

There was a question touching on FP among married persons and she told me she had been done to TL. I asked her what it was but she never knew it. So I asked my reliable friend Google afterwards about TL. TL on twitter is Timeline but in medical jargon, it is Tubal Ligation. This is a procedure done to women to prevent them from conceiving other pregnancies and hence having many babies. 

I can only speculate that it was done to her to prevent her from having more children because she was having too many while her economic status could not allow it. Since she was a primary school dropout, there was a high likelihood she never knew the repercussions even though they may have explained the essence of the procedure. 

Those also taking part in sanitation also had their fair share of stories to tell. Washing some tots was really an invigorating task. Some urchins said that it was their first time getting to wash their bodies since the year began while others wished they could have a change of clothing every time they showered.

There was a lad, in his twenties; I was told. He had a tattoo of his girlfriend on his arm. He displayed it all who ever cared but mostly to men. His main area of interest was his chic’s vajayjay which he had unsavoury words to tell about.

There are observations I made. One was the fact that most of those on the streets have some basic primary education as they can be able to read. There was this boy who came back to tell me that he was not married as the person registering him had marked ‘Yes’ on the question, ‘Are You married?’ I rectified it for him.

They also want wanted to be trained on some skills and given alternative residential areas where they could stay. Many of the children below 15 years wanted to go back to school. 

Conspicuously absent were the middle aged ladies and girls. While doing my mobilization some few years back, I had seen so many women with children and young girls. But many had shied away from coming to this event.

When the exercise came to a climax, the rains did pour. It was massive. Most people were in twos in the VIP arena of Uhuru Park. Some ladies were in red, others blue with red shades but most dudes were not in suitable occasion outfit. We Kenyan men have a poor fashion sense. Our ladies struggle with their third-rate clothing which most of the times never backfires because they visit the tailors. What about men. Anything goes.

My attention was captured by some three ladies who had a bundle of joy on their backs. How could it be that these young ladies all had children at the same time? Talk of kujichocha (inciting each other to get get paged at the same time.)

Ladies, it is not an obligation to get pregnant as friends at the same time. In Swahili they say ‘KIKULACHO KI NGUONI MWAKO’

Kenyans are a very charitable people. Many turned up with clothing, food stuff and a variey of other items to aid in making this world a better place. Some have abundance; some have enough while others have inadequate. We can never be the same. Even if we tried, the witty and those who know how to survive will have more. This is Charles Darwin’s ‘Survival of the fittest and struggling to survive.’

PS: I got to see the former BBA Kenyan contestant and SMAA most influential blogger with a cause. Charity is universal, everyone can participate in it. 

SITUONANE.