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The
only time I remember living in a posh suburb was when I was in campus. State
House Road and Mamlaka Road. Both signifying closeness to the seat (read State
House and Power) and your way to opulence (Kile, Riverside and Chiromo). Albeit
living in this aura was quite serenading (nice and flashy and sleek cars,
unadulterated air, trees, birds and tarmacked roads not forgetting
skyscrapers).
One of the most synonymous aspects that is associated with the Ghetto is a stream or a distributary flowing to major a river.
One of the most synonymous aspects that is associated with the Ghetto is a stream or a distributary flowing to major a river.
Immediately
after campus, I went to the Ghetto but never lasted because obligations and
nini ninis arose. Kusema ukweli hio maisha ni ngori, si ati nini.
It was not rosy. Life in the Ghetto needs nerves and patience. It requires one
who never cares. Ghetto massive, big up to all those who live in the Ghetto.
Ghetto in Kenya is synonymous to areas like Kibera, the Mukurus, Mathare,
Getho, Zimmer and Yes, Kijijis (found in posh areas and in upper middle class
vicinities) and other places that have sprouted over time.
I
presume the current place where I am residing does not qualify for a Ghetto (in
the meantime). It has an expansive backyard garden (rare in most Nairobi
homes), located in a gated community with cloned mansionettes and there are
apparently very few or no Dukas (Those kiosks that sell retail products, most
guys like doing bulk purchase in this hood).
I
decided to go back to the Ghetto, I did some days and the luxury of this middle
class vicinity drew me back. Free Wi-Fi, Hot Water (Reliable) in a bathtub as
you shower or in showers that are fitted with radio, Security is assured
(The sentries are my buddies most of them are Maasai during the day), Gated
community, Well aerated vicinity with swaying trees and chirping birds with plush
back and front balconies, Fly chics, Insane sports cars and SUVs, English
speaking children- (you feel guilty talking to them with your pathetic patois
because you cannot coherently construct sentences sometimes when you get used
to too much sheng), No ado and of course nice food and drinks. You feel good
but in reality, you have this urge to go back to the hood (read Ghetto and
savor life).
Ghetto,
I have a feeling living in the Ghetto gives one the inkling of how to cascade the
journey of life into prosperity upon decision. I am writing this at the comfort
of a place where cable TV showcasing elegance in terms of architectural designs
in houses makes you feel like. 'I will be there'. Ever watched ‘Million Dollar
Rooms or Spaces.’
Ghetto
is also called Mtaani. Those who live
in the leafy suburb rarely refer to their places of residence as mtaani, unless they have gone to social
places where guys from mtaani reside.
In
mtaani, I have a barber who knows
what I want in terms of a nice shave. We usually talk in Sheng (lugha ya mtaa) and he charges not more than a cent (French
numerical) for the service. But on the other side of town, a good shave in an
exclusive barbershop which offers facials and massage and manicure and pedicure
if willing is quite expensive but I check in occasionally (financials bana, am jobless and getting money is
tricky).
I was born in a Ghetto like setting. Every time I go back to the hood where I was born, I usually feel like it is the same as nothing has changed much. When I want to escape from the boredom of seeing very few people in what is an uptown setting that has given me reclusive tenets, I usually break the monotony by going ghetto. Alright, ghetto has many people.
“Dawa ya kunguni, mende na moskito na panya. Tunauza pia memory card, Safaricom, Orange na Airtel line.”
Say that in the voice of a Kiuk guy with a small soprano voice and you get the irritation most guys go through. This is because most vendors use radios to broadcast their wares when selling their stuff. So bedbugs are prevalent in Nairobi.
In mtaani, most people are usually mobile in the evening. Motorists struggle with humanity for the way especially on roads that sell food and necessities. In places like Kayole where there is a sea of humanity, the cacophony of hooting vehicles surely will force you to indulge. What with nosy neighbours who know you like the back of their palm. Especially the wives. Of course you share facilities like bathrooms and toilets. That means if you are a Casanova, timing when the men of the houses are not around, you can ‘pita nao’ since most idle having no much to do after finishing household chores.
Most ladies because of being housewives engage in gossip and will surely tell you the falsehoods and rumours that are bedeviling the ‘ploti’. I forgot to say that most people live in ploti in the ghetto. Mark you, if it is a high-rise building, the foul stench emanating from dump floors because guys have to hung their clothes within the building will wreak havoc on your nose and throat if new. Not forgetting the smelly poo from the shared Indian toilets. Guys are so used to the situation that they feel there is no discomfort.
Again, the nondescript owners ensure they build substandard flats and the rent you pay is just enough to make you stay longer. Most building are even inhabited while still under construction. In fact, if it is your first time, you will have to drink a lot of water to cushion the salivary glands from releasing too much saliva unnecessarily because you want to spit. Living on the ground floor is a no-no. It is the dumping ground as much as it becomes very cold in the evening. Again, it is very dark living on the ground floor and if you have no watch, you may think it never dawns. You always extend your sleep till 11 am. Why? You never easily see the sun inside these buildings unless you go outside them. The ceiling is just high enough. If you are a tall bugger, I feel your pain.
Indeed, there is only one window that serves each room. Electricity is usually limited to some minutes after dusk apart from Sunday in some areas. Luckily, Kenya Power came up with the sole meters and most end up being loaded with tokens just enough for sustenance because of liquidity issues. Life is a real hustle amid the low standards characterized by a kadogo economy.
Food outlets where mandazis and chapattis are cooked using solid fat and sold in the open are many. Orenge, a meal made up of the legs and head of cows are in plenty. Those who sell mutura and intestines by the roadside notwithstanding the risk posed by such hazardous tendencies in a bid to get a life come up each day. I used to drink supu but middle upper middle class residence has restrained me. You look at the person selling the stuff, (his fingers, clothing and general hygiene) you just say it is alright. Life is a hustle. Mama Mbogas have gotten new business ideas, they no longer sell fresh vegetables only, they have divested as a result they also do cooked githeri, mbocho (or is it mbosho) and njahi and whatever else I have not mentioned. When you have Sh.70, you buy can 3 chapattis at Sh.30, beans at 25, one onion and two tomatoes cook and eat. The remaining beans can be stored or relished with rice.
In the ghetto, purchasing things on credit is a lifestyle. The shopkeeper knows who pays and never pays. They know those who are liquid and those who struggle to make ends meet.
Those who cannot buy newspapers frequent food joints where prices are customer friendly. A trap most hotels use (The kina mama boi hotel, and nini ninis) is a newspaper which is called Gazette. Never mind that a hotel is a place that is supposed to offer accommodation. I don’t know whether to call these premises; restaurant, food joints or cafes. Inside, the walls have ceased from being their original colour to something with dark stains on cream paint. You enter inside and notice that the aura is sooty but still buy chai and mandas. The lady who serves touches the food with her hands but you are like haisulu.
The fish mongers perhaps are the lucky ones, they price their fish at exorbitantly high prices you are left sulking because the fish also has high demand. But there is always that lady who sells her fish at lower prices. However, there is a caveat, you risk buying stale fish with a rotten head.
You must have roho ngumu to make it in the ghetto.
But in the ghetto, though many have TV which they bought during the period when analogue broadcasting was still operational, few have set top boxes and pay TV because they are still adamant. They are not sure of the best alternative given that most decorders are not genuine in their thinking. Radio is their preferred mode of catching up with the latest news. Pay TV operators like GoTV are proving unreliable even after purchase by many people.
In areas predominantly Sap (inhabited by Agĩkũyũ), the radios are usually tuned to the local stations, likewise in areas where Luos, Kambas, Luhyas and which other major tribe lives in the ghetto (I don’t know- Somalis!!!). As such, children in some ghetto speak fluently in their mother tongue than those in middle class areas who are forced to do Queens English. In Mathare for instance, a mother probably from Siaya who came in because her man is working in Kariobangi light industries knows no other language apart from jeng. When she speaks in Kiswahili, you can tell her origin, he patois is heavily accented. Same applies to some old folks from either Muranga or Kiambu huko ndani kabisa.
The generation of the aged found in slums have seen better days. They are the most despondent lot. Some own plots and they never want to go back to the rural areas because people farm and they are used to petty cash they can easily get. Their living standards are deplorable, some however are bulky in weight. You know most ghettos have this outfits like mungiki, sungusungu, chinkororo and I don’t know which other ethnic outfits that sometime terrorize the landlords and residents. Some of those old men and women found living in the ghetto are their leaders. Sometimes I wonder how they operate because you never see them doing anything, just walking in the hood amorphously without any real engagement. Some are members of the office entitled to sell land. They gonga guys and use the amount to maintain their lifestyles. They act as middlemen because in the Ghetto people are issued with allotment letters instead of title deeds.
The number of churches that are found in ghetto will astound you. Where I sometimes stay, there are not less than ten churches. There is one for the Legio Maria, which is quite distinct and others with sometimes ten or twenty people. One with three people in a 4 by six room did astonish. Many are churches cum saccos. After church they hold crusades anywhere open near a place where people like to frequent. Someone thinks he will be the next big thing on TV or ending up with a big church. That point you realize why Lupita’s sentiments, “Your dreams are valid” is actually realistic. Who knows perhaps they may open the biggest church and end up smiling all the way to the bank.
What’s worse is that there are goats loitering all over. Some people heard that there is a big market for pigs and have since ventured into the lucrative business. The stench that comes from plots that are rearing those animals is very pesky. Since they have no regard for hygiene, most people never procure the services of garbage collectors. Mounds of wate are all over. They direct the waste outside especially the animal waste using trenches they did to let out the waste. When the animals decide to snort or bleat, mayie denda, you would think you have an abattoir in your vicinity.
Enterprises are also all over. The main roads have houses with businesses being the sole trade taking place. The number of Mpesa shops are so many. Likewise shops selling electronics and the dukas. While in middleclass hoods there are many newspaper vendors, in the Ghetto, one serves a population of over ten thousand people. It’s like people just have to do business. Newspapers are not that important.
Supermarkets are in plenty. Those that are actually shops but you can select what you want inside.
However when it rains in the Ghetto, it never becomes rosy. Roads develop small pools and what’s worse is walking on a road that has been turned into a porridge like surface. You can easily enter into sludge or fall in the water when not careful because the untarmacked surfaces are very lethal if you shoe soles are untreaded well. Water snakes away because there is no proper drainage along the roads.
In the evening, because most places are either swampy or riparian, you will hear crickets chirping and frogs croaking. Undeveloped plots with small thickets house these animals during the rainy season. And they usually compete in making noise.
I was born in a Ghetto like setting. Every time I go back to the hood where I was born, I usually feel like it is the same as nothing has changed much. When I want to escape from the boredom of seeing very few people in what is an uptown setting that has given me reclusive tenets, I usually break the monotony by going ghetto. Alright, ghetto has many people.
“Dawa ya kunguni, mende na moskito na panya. Tunauza pia memory card, Safaricom, Orange na Airtel line.”
Say that in the voice of a Kiuk guy with a small soprano voice and you get the irritation most guys go through. This is because most vendors use radios to broadcast their wares when selling their stuff. So bedbugs are prevalent in Nairobi.
In mtaani, most people are usually mobile in the evening. Motorists struggle with humanity for the way especially on roads that sell food and necessities. In places like Kayole where there is a sea of humanity, the cacophony of hooting vehicles surely will force you to indulge. What with nosy neighbours who know you like the back of their palm. Especially the wives. Of course you share facilities like bathrooms and toilets. That means if you are a Casanova, timing when the men of the houses are not around, you can ‘pita nao’ since most idle having no much to do after finishing household chores.
Most ladies because of being housewives engage in gossip and will surely tell you the falsehoods and rumours that are bedeviling the ‘ploti’. I forgot to say that most people live in ploti in the ghetto. Mark you, if it is a high-rise building, the foul stench emanating from dump floors because guys have to hung their clothes within the building will wreak havoc on your nose and throat if new. Not forgetting the smelly poo from the shared Indian toilets. Guys are so used to the situation that they feel there is no discomfort.
Again, the nondescript owners ensure they build substandard flats and the rent you pay is just enough to make you stay longer. Most building are even inhabited while still under construction. In fact, if it is your first time, you will have to drink a lot of water to cushion the salivary glands from releasing too much saliva unnecessarily because you want to spit. Living on the ground floor is a no-no. It is the dumping ground as much as it becomes very cold in the evening. Again, it is very dark living on the ground floor and if you have no watch, you may think it never dawns. You always extend your sleep till 11 am. Why? You never easily see the sun inside these buildings unless you go outside them. The ceiling is just high enough. If you are a tall bugger, I feel your pain.
Indeed, there is only one window that serves each room. Electricity is usually limited to some minutes after dusk apart from Sunday in some areas. Luckily, Kenya Power came up with the sole meters and most end up being loaded with tokens just enough for sustenance because of liquidity issues. Life is a real hustle amid the low standards characterized by a kadogo economy.
Food outlets where mandazis and chapattis are cooked using solid fat and sold in the open are many. Orenge, a meal made up of the legs and head of cows are in plenty. Those who sell mutura and intestines by the roadside notwithstanding the risk posed by such hazardous tendencies in a bid to get a life come up each day. I used to drink supu but middle upper middle class residence has restrained me. You look at the person selling the stuff, (his fingers, clothing and general hygiene) you just say it is alright. Life is a hustle. Mama Mbogas have gotten new business ideas, they no longer sell fresh vegetables only, they have divested as a result they also do cooked githeri, mbocho (or is it mbosho) and njahi and whatever else I have not mentioned. When you have Sh.70, you buy can 3 chapattis at Sh.30, beans at 25, one onion and two tomatoes cook and eat. The remaining beans can be stored or relished with rice.
In the ghetto, purchasing things on credit is a lifestyle. The shopkeeper knows who pays and never pays. They know those who are liquid and those who struggle to make ends meet.
Those who cannot buy newspapers frequent food joints where prices are customer friendly. A trap most hotels use (The kina mama boi hotel, and nini ninis) is a newspaper which is called Gazette. Never mind that a hotel is a place that is supposed to offer accommodation. I don’t know whether to call these premises; restaurant, food joints or cafes. Inside, the walls have ceased from being their original colour to something with dark stains on cream paint. You enter inside and notice that the aura is sooty but still buy chai and mandas. The lady who serves touches the food with her hands but you are like haisulu.
The fish mongers perhaps are the lucky ones, they price their fish at exorbitantly high prices you are left sulking because the fish also has high demand. But there is always that lady who sells her fish at lower prices. However, there is a caveat, you risk buying stale fish with a rotten head.
You must have roho ngumu to make it in the ghetto.
But in the ghetto, though many have TV which they bought during the period when analogue broadcasting was still operational, few have set top boxes and pay TV because they are still adamant. They are not sure of the best alternative given that most decorders are not genuine in their thinking. Radio is their preferred mode of catching up with the latest news. Pay TV operators like GoTV are proving unreliable even after purchase by many people.
In areas predominantly Sap (inhabited by Agĩkũyũ), the radios are usually tuned to the local stations, likewise in areas where Luos, Kambas, Luhyas and which other major tribe lives in the ghetto (I don’t know- Somalis!!!). As such, children in some ghetto speak fluently in their mother tongue than those in middle class areas who are forced to do Queens English. In Mathare for instance, a mother probably from Siaya who came in because her man is working in Kariobangi light industries knows no other language apart from jeng. When she speaks in Kiswahili, you can tell her origin, he patois is heavily accented. Same applies to some old folks from either Muranga or Kiambu huko ndani kabisa.
The generation of the aged found in slums have seen better days. They are the most despondent lot. Some own plots and they never want to go back to the rural areas because people farm and they are used to petty cash they can easily get. Their living standards are deplorable, some however are bulky in weight. You know most ghettos have this outfits like mungiki, sungusungu, chinkororo and I don’t know which other ethnic outfits that sometime terrorize the landlords and residents. Some of those old men and women found living in the ghetto are their leaders. Sometimes I wonder how they operate because you never see them doing anything, just walking in the hood amorphously without any real engagement. Some are members of the office entitled to sell land. They gonga guys and use the amount to maintain their lifestyles. They act as middlemen because in the Ghetto people are issued with allotment letters instead of title deeds.
The number of churches that are found in ghetto will astound you. Where I sometimes stay, there are not less than ten churches. There is one for the Legio Maria, which is quite distinct and others with sometimes ten or twenty people. One with three people in a 4 by six room did astonish. Many are churches cum saccos. After church they hold crusades anywhere open near a place where people like to frequent. Someone thinks he will be the next big thing on TV or ending up with a big church. That point you realize why Lupita’s sentiments, “Your dreams are valid” is actually realistic. Who knows perhaps they may open the biggest church and end up smiling all the way to the bank.
What’s worse is that there are goats loitering all over. Some people heard that there is a big market for pigs and have since ventured into the lucrative business. The stench that comes from plots that are rearing those animals is very pesky. Since they have no regard for hygiene, most people never procure the services of garbage collectors. Mounds of wate are all over. They direct the waste outside especially the animal waste using trenches they did to let out the waste. When the animals decide to snort or bleat, mayie denda, you would think you have an abattoir in your vicinity.
Enterprises are also all over. The main roads have houses with businesses being the sole trade taking place. The number of Mpesa shops are so many. Likewise shops selling electronics and the dukas. While in middleclass hoods there are many newspaper vendors, in the Ghetto, one serves a population of over ten thousand people. It’s like people just have to do business. Newspapers are not that important.
Supermarkets are in plenty. Those that are actually shops but you can select what you want inside.
However when it rains in the Ghetto, it never becomes rosy. Roads develop small pools and what’s worse is walking on a road that has been turned into a porridge like surface. You can easily enter into sludge or fall in the water when not careful because the untarmacked surfaces are very lethal if you shoe soles are untreaded well. Water snakes away because there is no proper drainage along the roads.
In the evening, because most places are either swampy or riparian, you will hear crickets chirping and frogs croaking. Undeveloped plots with small thickets house these animals during the rainy season. And they usually compete in making noise.
However I like Ghetto kids, those who have strict parents and as such have taught them certain virtues. Some greatly thanked me for returning their ball when it gained entry in my place of living. ‘Mungu akubariki sana.’ They told me when I returned their ball.
The Matatus. Nganya as they are called have really transformed living in the Ghetto. Most of the mats in the Ghetto are really worth writing home about. Some are fitted with big wide screen TVs which are common, free Wi-Fi, nice rims and others even have CCTV and Water Dispensers inside. However, the conductors are very rowdy. They are also conniving because they let the touts fill their mats with minimal fare but when inside the the conductor surcharges you feigning ignorance of the earlier pact you had. Plus they can easily wrestle passengers as they don't a damn. Is this not impunity. Ghetto is also home to some mats that you will never see in the city centre. Those mats that are so old they billow dark smoke like some coal that is used to generate electricity.
SITUONANE.
[Photo source: Google Images]
