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Dynamics of the street

Every base has a leader, known as a ‘master’ who is typically the eldest. For groups with older members, most masters are aged between 18 and 25. If there is no standout elder, then the master is usually the one who is known to be the most fearless, reckless and respected individual.

The master typically gets younger members of the group to undertake high risk tasks such as pedalling drugs and weapons, not caring if they end up being caught. Street children usually spend their days undertaking tasks around town before returning to the base at night. For some, this can mean leaving early in the morning with a sack, looking to collect scrap metal or plastic. Plastic can be sold on at a rate of 10 shillings per kilogram (less than 10 pence). Their haul varies every day, and if they are lucky they might bring in 10kg which usually leads them to taking a few days off. Either way, the master gets a cut.

Some members play for higher reward by engaging in theft of scrap metals from garages or housing estates. Metal can trade for 17-20 shillings per kilogram, so one good lump of metal can reap a decent return.

The bases themselves have no physical structure, and are open areas usually with suspended nylon canvases as makeshift weather protection in the absence of permanent shelter. Bases are normally extremely dirty, as the members bring food from bins that has been thrown away to eat what they can – and the remainder is disregarded at the base.

A street children’s base

Life on the street

Street life usually begins as a result of the limited prospects faced by families living in inner-city slums. Slum dwellings are typically 10ft x 10ft structures with around 7 people living in one space. Families often end up in slums because they leave rural areas of the country and come to cities chasing opportunity. In 2014 it was estimated at 56% of Kenya’s urban populations lived in slums. This statistic is reflected in Nairobi where 2.5 million people live across slums such as Kware, or the more well known Kibera Slum – the largest in Africa.

Parents of slum residing families are usually occupied trying to make ends meet, whilst often also facing difficulties with alcohol and drugs. Most families have a number of children and many of them don’t receive the attention and care they need to strive in such an unstable and unsafe environment.

Some children get moved on the other guardians such as aunties, uncles or grandparents from whom they often escape. Others are orphaned after the premature death of parents and default to life on the street. A common circumstance would be a child from a single parent household (usually a mother) who is struggling to raise her children. Such a child succumbs to the allure of earning money in the street after hearing about it from peers. This is the start of their life on the streets.

Once children or young men get involved with a base, many lose connection with their parents. Outside of hustling hand to mouth, street children also engage in highly addictive substance abuse. This typically involves the use of industrial strength cobblers glue – sniffed to give them a prolonged numb feeling. More recently, the use of turpentine is on the rise as it is ever more abundant, cheaper and easier to hide.

When using glue, children can be seen with bottles or bottle caps containing residue. Police will sometimes take any child sniffing glue to a jail cell (a band-aid approach to solving the problem). Turpentine use is more concealed since the liquid is clear and can be sniffed from a rag that’s been dipped inside it. The effects of turpentine are more short lived but more intense than glue – delivering an instant feeling of spinning in the head.

Older group members take advantage of these substances as a means to exert control and coerce younger members of the group. Children can’t access turpentine in shops so older members of the group buy it for them in return for favours. The most favoured street children in a group are often given special treatment and privileges such as protection or more drugs and alcohol.


How does it end?

A young lady begs on the corner of Kimanthi Street

For boys, more than 70% don’t make it past the age of 21. Common causes of death include falling to the wrath of street violence or at the hands of police. The most concerning? That many street children are caught stealing by community members who have been known to then deliver mob justice, resulting in them being beaten to death. If they don’t die in the process, then they are left to die in the street.

Females

Young girls are very rarely seen in the streets. Usually for one of two reasons.

Most of the time, girls in the streets are there to gain favours from the passing public in the form of money food and clothing. From a young age they learn to taking advantages of this – female adult beggars in Nairobi are often from the slums, bringing their kids with them to gain sympathy from a well wisher. Many older females default to undertake this as their primary source of income.

Fortunately there exist many support channels and organisations for young girls on the street, meaning less are falling through the net.

For those younger females in the street who do not have access to services, their fate is somewhat bleak. In most cases, these individuals do not have information on how to gain help or do not have the means to accessing it. Some of them will end up in a base made up solely of boys and young men.

In a base, their acceptance is usually attained by them being gang raped by the males in the group. Usually, any such female in these circumstances will end up becoming ‘the masters girl’. These girls are typically aged 15-17, but on odd occasion they can be as young as 10 years old. They are given housing and food and seen as ‘property of the master’. These girls are usually only then used for sexual favours by the master, and in the event that she is taken advantage of by another male in the group, it may end with the master taking her life.

In the absence of support, most of girls end up having several children with different men. These children born into the streets, and usually remain in the streets.

State intervention

The state runs accommodation locations and rehabilitation centres for street children. From what Bradley tells me, these centres reap mixed results as it would seem they are not always ran effectively. Often, many of the children and young people who should benefit from the services at these centres end up running away. More effort needs to be made to build relationships and connections with the children and young people at these centres. Delivering care and rehabilitation through compassion and by creating personal bonds will lead to more of them wanting to stay – so they do not have to look to the street to fill this void. Currently, many centres are delivering a service provision which is transactional and routine in its nature – with not all staff having the passion required to go the extra mile, often due to pressure from limited resourcing capacity.

Outside of their own direct service provision, local governments are reluctant to fund third party organisations because of bad experiences. Numerous times they have been stung by organisations taking money and then disappearing.

Largely, many of the government’s efforts are aimed at addressing the effects of street children and not the cause. Work is required to address the root cause of how family units fall apart in slums – and a level deeper than this, to consider the underlying drivers which lead families to leave a more comfortable life in rural areas to make their way to a city. Managing and understanding the movement of people should be given equal consideration to those efforts addressing families who are already in slums without work, looking after children who are outside of the education system.

The narrative

There is a clear need to recognise the damaged culture and harmful narrative which can slow down efforts being made to alleviate the plight of street children. During the same week I met Bradley, I came across two news articles linked below, they show how dehumanising some of the the language used to describe street children is. Street children are spoken of as though they are vermin, which need to be ‘flushed out’ – this sentiment finds its ways into local communities and every crevice of society, making it less likely that street children are treated with compassion.

‘Sonko flushes out street children from Nairobi CBD – PHOTOS’

‘Street children flushed out of Nairobi CBD in impromptu operation’

Source: the-star.co.keArticle by: Shammi Raichura
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The Riverside Children of Nairobi

A true story and study of Nairobi’s street children and the people working to uplift them. Some names have been changed to protect identities.

Capitalis

[Eron Hotel, 5th floor, Kirinyaga Road, Nairobi, Kenya]
[16/04/18 23:43]

I walk to the far side of the hallway and look out north over the open stairway towards Nairobi River. By night, the only lighting in the yard is provided by the intermittent flashes of welding sparks and the dim hue of kerosene lamps and solar lights. From this vantage point, perceptions of my surroundings are better guided by sounds – the yard is alive with a baseline murmur of clattering and distant conversations. The smell is of dust and unpleasant burning. During the day, the stories behind the smells and sounds reveal themselves; old discoloured plastic goods, smoke plumes, rusty iron corrugated roofs and people… lots of people.

Like all cities, Nairobi has many sides to it. I’m here to learn another one of its stories, surfaced right from the within the city’s underbelly.

[17/04/18 16:43]

I leave my room and walk towards the lift, glancing out through the tired window on the south wall which overlooks Kirinyaga Road. I’m staying in the CBD; the ever hustling epicenter of the city.

The short walk to my destination on Moi Avenue is one that needs a degree of mental preparation. If you aren’t about your wits, there is a high chance you may be overwhelmed by the busy streets and find yourself having tripped over into an open drain or caught in the line of traffic. Maybe both concurrently.

The city’s towers loom over the underbelly of informal industries and shops which clutter Nairobi’s branching streets

I pass through the Koja bus stage along my route. It’s confusing with no orderly movement of people, vehicles, trolleys or cargo. I was advised by a friend not to attempt crossing it after dark as “You will probably get ran over, it happens daily even to us Kenyans”. I like to think of myself having a degree of street smarts about me, and travel prepared with my wits and a bright torch for these situations – which usually occur multiple times per day if you are out exploring and not lounging by a hotel pool in Westlands.

But even then, staying alert to your surroundings can only minimise any unwanted incidents, and never completely remove you from their advances. Only the day before, I was approached by a plain clothed police officer who had been following me because he thought I was a terrorist – apparently because I was ‘walking quickly’. When retelling the story to my Kenyan friends, they said I must have handled the conversation with the officer well, given I didn’t end up in a jail cell or my hand wasn’t forced into bribing him. I think I was just lucky.

Once you reach Moi Avenue, things become a little more orderly. I cross over to Bihi towers, where the security guards no longer search me as I enter because I’m a frequent visitor (not the most robust qualification criteria for building security, but this somewhat commonplace in Kenya).

I enter the lift and zip up to the 13th floor, flicking through the pictures I had just taken on my phone. During my walk, I had passed by eight street children. Photographing people in despair is not a hobby of mine, but it was something I had done during my journey – in anticipation of the interview I was about to undertake and with the view to writing this.

I was meeting Bradley Kivairu. He runs a charity called Smile Foundation Kenya and I wanted to hear his story. That’s the main reason why I was on this trip – to gather people’s stories, learn and help where I can by giving them a voice.

What you are about to read is a story about real lives.
True trials and tribulations.
Real death, real despair.
But importantly, real resurrections.

This is the true story of Bradley Kivairu and the Riverside Children of Nairobi.

I pass a street boy lying motionless on Kilome Street during my walk to Bihi Towers

[Bihi Towers, Moi Ave, Nairobi, Kenya]
[16/04/18 17:02]

Bradley

“Everything about me is Nairobi!” He tells me as we place an order for mango juice. ‘I was a smiley child but didn’t speak much. I wanted to help people and developed an interest in doing so from a young age”.

Bradley was telling me what it was like growing up in Nairobi and where his calling for creating solutions to help the less fortunate all began.

“I went to an all boys boarding school which had an array of children from different backgrounds. I ended up turning into an unofficial representative of the pupils from poor families – by approaching the rich pupils to ask them to donate toiletries, stationary and clothing to be given to those less well off. This would stop the poorer children from stealing and getting themselves into trouble”.

“Eventually the school gave me permission to go from class to class, explaining the initiative and spreading the word. The well off pupils started going away on breaks and bringing back items to be donated. The poorer pupils didn’t want to be looked down upon in pity, so the system was kept anonymous on both sides. I ended up helping 100 kids”.

Fast forward to his late teens and Bradley is working as a sound engineer. He would often think about his passion for helping people that he enacted upon in high school – and how he may be able to get back to doing so despite his families advice to keep a ‘proper job’.


Every street is the start of a story

It’s September 2013 and Bradley is walking through town when a young street boy named Masharia approached him and asked “Brother, can you help me?”.

“How can I help you?” he replied

Bradley approached the conversation with caution. He had heard of and seen too many incidents involving street children which ended badly. Notably the stories of street children at Globe Roundabout – where in the 90s they were known to carry bags of their faeces which they would threaten to fling at you if you did not comply with their demands.

Masharia was very clearly high on some form of drugs and was asking for food. Bradley wanted to know more, so he asked him “Brathé, [Sheng for brother], aside from begging what else do you do? You’re a young guy, do you go to school?”.

No response. Young Masharia was too out of it to partake in a conversation.

After some more unsuccessful probing, Bradley gave him the little money he had in his pocket. Masharia was grateful.

The next, day Bradley returned to the same spot and walked back and forth trying to find Masharia, but he was not there. Somebody different was begging in the same spot, but Bradley was reluctant to approach him so stuck around until the boy noticed Bradley and walked over. His name was Samuel, and he proceeded to ask Bradley to buy him some food. Bradley attempted a similar line of questioning with Samuel as he had with Masharia; “Do you have family? Are you in school? Do you have parents?”.

Bradley gained what little information he could and gave Samuel 100 shillings.

At this point, Bradley was intrigued as to the reason for the plight of street children, so he began conducting some research. The most recent credible source of information he could find was from 2007, but it seemed incomplete and somewhat unreliable. There wasn’t much available online about the street children of Nairobi so he thought to himself; what better way to learn than directly from the children?

He had heard about a community in Kware, a low income ward of Nairobi containing a slum – well known as being a dangerous part of town. Kware had a river running through it that was (and still is) polluted to the point that it was black in colour. Word was that after 6pm, Kware becomes impassable… unless you wanted to get robbed that is.

Once Nairobi’s Outer Ring Road reaches Kware, it sits above one of the most polluted sections of the Ngong River. Seen here, a digger attempts to alleviate the distorting affect of pollution on life and the environment. Photo CreditArticle by: Shammi Raichura.
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Reportage: lijm snuiven met de straatkinderen van Nairobi

Straatkinderen in Nairobi bezwijken onder een nieuwe rage: terpentine snuiven, de opvolger van lijmsnuiven. De bijnaam van msii, zoals de drugs in Kenia heet, is jet fuel, want je raakt er net zo high van als een vliegtuig. Koen de Regt bezocht de kinderen, die leven van vuilnis. ‘Terpentine geeft me de kracht om dit bestaan vol te houden.’

Alsof je keel dichtgeknepen wordt. Zo voelt het om een van de honderden plekken in Nairobi te bezoeken waar straatkinderen leven. Niet alleen de slechte omstandigheden waarin ze leven zijn aangrijpend, het is de geur van terpentine die meteen op je longen slaat als je bij de kinderen in de buurt komt.

We zijn in de wijk Donholm op bezoek bij de Black Army Gang. Een stoere naam, die heel wat lijkt voor te stellen en angst in zou moeten boezemen, maar eigenlijk is het een groepje van veertig verslaafde stakkers die zich elke dag samen door de dag heen worstelen. Het jongste lid is ongeveer 8 jaar oud, de oudste 18.

Ze leven op een braakliggend stuk grond tussen de flats, zo groot als een flinke tennisbaan. De grond is niet alleen bezaaid met afval, afval ís de grond. Wijkbewoners legen hier hun afvalemmers en de straatkinderen slepen hier zelf van alles naartoe. Aan de randen, tegen de muren van de andere gebouwen, zijn de slaapplekken: stukken zeil die met een stok omhoog worden gehouden. Totaal ongeschikte bescherming tegen de soms flinke regenbuien van Nairobi.

Dit is waar Simon van 14 jaar woont. En Trevor, 15 jaar oud. In een stad waar miljoenen mensen moeite hebben om het hoofd boven water te houden, zijn zij het laagste van het laagste. Ze leven van het afval, tussen het ongedierte, de straathonden en de stank. Om dat leven te kunnen verdragen, snuiven ze terpentine, dag in dag uit.

‘Het houdt me high,’ zegt Simon. ‘Het geeft me het gevoel dat ik niet alleen ben. Ook al heb ik allemaal jongens om me heen, toch voel ik me alleen. Maar hiermee niet. Het houdt me gezelschap.’ Trevor zegt dat hij zich op zijn gemak voelt als hij terpentine gebruikt. ‘Het geeft me de kracht om dit bestaan vol te houden.’

Master of ceremony

Ze noemen het msii, de terpentine. Waarom weet niemand, maar één theorie is dat het afgeleid is van MC, master of ceremony. Gebruikers van msii staan namelijk de hele dag met een onzichtbare microfoon voor hun mond. In hun hand hebben ze een doekje, dat gedrenkt is in terpentine. De giftige damp die daarvan afkomt, ademen ze in. Het effect dat het geeft, verdwijnt weer snel. Dus moet je het vaak inademen om high te blijven. Met een flesje van ongeveer 50 milliliter doen ze een middag. Het werkt snel. De bijnaam is niet voor niets jet fuel: je raakt net zo snel high als een vliegtuig.

Msii is niet duur. Voor ongeveer 80 eurocent kan een kind de hele dag high zijn. Dat zijn nog steeds grote bedragen als je zo weinig hebt als Simon en zijn vrienden, maar dat kunnen ze wel bij elkaar verdienen. Elke ochtend gaan de jongens op pad om het afval in de wijk te doorzoeken op spullen die ze kunnen doorverkopen voor recycling, zoals plastic en metalen. Het levert ze één, soms twee euro op. Genoeg om iets te eten en terpentine te kunnen kopen. Als ze een slechte dag hebben, wordt er geen eten gekocht en gaat alles op aan de msii. Ze eten dan wat ze tegenkomen op straat.

Vroeger snoven de straatkinderen in Nairobi lijm, maar dat is uit. De schoenmakerslijm is tegenwoordig moeilijker te krijgen, door ingrijpen van de overheid die lijmsnuiven wil uitbannen. Bovendien is een lijmsnuiver ook makkelijk te herkennen door het flesje met de gele substantie aan zijn mond. Een doekje met terpentine is veel makkelijker te verbergen voor de politie.

Maar de voornaamste reden voor de populariteit van msii is dat het een betere high zou geven. ‘Van lijm ga je trillen,’ zegt de 16-jarige David. ‘En het droop soms je mond in. Terpentine is niet zo zwaar voor je lichaam.’

Terpentinewalm

Onzin, natuurlijk. Ook terpentine is verwoestend voor je lijf. Volgens wetenschappers beschadigt het de hersenen, lever, longen en nieren. Maar je hoeft geen onderzoek te hebben gedaan om te weten dat wat deze kinderen doen, rampzalig is voor hun gezondheid. Kinderen die high zijn, lijken wel zombies. Ze schuifelen een beetje rond, kunnen nauwelijks praten en zijn compleet in zichzelf gekeerd. Ex-gebruikers klagen over maagzweren en een slecht geheugen. Ook al is het al jaren geleden dat ze voor het laatst terpentine hebben gesnoven. ‘Ik ben niet verslaafd. Ik kan stoppen wanneer ik wil,’ zegt Simon trots. Dat hij zichzelf voor de gek houdt, is duidelijk. Hij leeft immers al drie jaar op de basis in Donholm, en gebruikt al net zo lang. We zitten op een oude vrachtwagenband en proberen de andere jongens te negeren die rond ons zijn komen staan en ons met dode ogen aankijken. De terpentinewalm is haast niet te verdragen.

Simon is een slim joch, dat is al snel duidelijk. Als ik hem vraag om zijn achternaam te spellen, pakt ie mijn papier en pen en schrijft in keurige blokletters ‘Kimani’. Hij praat goed Engels. Een officiële taal in Kenia, maar straatjongens spreken het meestal niet. Hij draagt een trui van Nike die ooit rood was, en in zijn broek zitten grote gaten. Tot zijn elfde zat hij op school. ‘Ik was altijd nummer twee of drie van de klas. Mijn droom was om piloot te worden. Ik wil graag terug naar school om mijn droom werkelijkheid te laten worden. Maar dat kan nu niet meer, omdat ik hier zit.’

Hij kwam op straat door zijn stiefvader. Die sloeg hem, en accepteerde Simon niet als stiefzoon. ‘Hij betaalde ook niet voor school en gooide me het huis uit. Daar was ik erg boos over, maar ik kon er niks tegen doen.’ Zijn moeder greep niet in. ‘Ik had nergens om heen te gaan, dus kwam ik hier terecht. Deze groep is goed voor me geweest. Ze hebben me geholpen. Ik ben dankbaar dat ik nog leef.’

Het verhaal van Simon is exemplarisch, zegt Bradley Kivairu van de Smile Foundation Kenia. Hij probeert straatkinderen uit deze harde wereld te halen en terug naar school te krijgen. ‘De meeste van deze kinderen komen uit een gebroken gezin. Vaak is het zo dat de moeder in de steek is gelaten door de vader. De moeder moet met allerlei baantjes proberen het gezin te voeden. Daardoor is ze vaak weg. Er is dan tijd zat voor de kinderen om de straat op te gaan, waardoor ze gewend raken aan het straatleven.’ Ook Trevor is het slachtoffer van een vader die zijn verantwoordelijkheid niet nam. Twee jaar geleden ging zijn moeder dood. Omdat zijn vader allang vertrokken was, stond Trevor er alleen voor, om voor zijn jongere broer en zusje te zorgen. Die zitten inmiddels in een kindertehuis. Waarom hij daar ook niet zit, kan hij me niet duidelijk maken. Daarvoor is hij inmiddels veel te high. Hij knikkebolt, en zijn ogen staan op half zeven. ‘Ik zou ook wel veilig willen zijn, zoals mijn broer en zus,’ stamelt hij. ‘Ik vind het hier niet leuk. Ik haat het om altijd honger te hebben en om altijd maar vies te zijn. Mijn kleren zijn altijd vies.’

Groepsverkrachting

Het zijn voornamelijk jongens die in groepen zoals de Black Army Gang leven. Voor meisjes is het namelijk extra zwaar, door het seksuele geweld. Bradley Kivairu: ‘Om geaccepteerd te worden, wordt een meisje meestal eerst door de hele groep verkracht. Later wordt ze dan de vrouw van de leider.’

Margaret Wanjeri heeft twaalf jaar in een kamp voor straatkinderen gewoond. ‘Ik ken heel veel meisjes die zijn verkracht. Dat kwam door de drugs. Als meisjes het gebruiken, gaan ze zich uitdagender gedragen. Jongens, die ook high zijn, willen dan meteen seks. Ze voelen zich door de terpentine alsof ze de hele wereld aankunnen en denken dat ze alles kunnen doen wat ze willen.’

Inmiddels is Margaret 23 en probeert zoveel mogelijk weg te blijven uit het kamp. ‘Het is zo moeilijk om daar te leven, er gebeurt zoveel. De politie jaagt op ons, er zijn verkrachters. Je kunt niet rustig slapen.’

Sinds een week probeert Margaret te stoppen met de msii. Als we haar spreken is ze inderdaad ook helder. Ze heeft zelfs een beetje blauwe oogschaduw op, waardoor ze er ‘normaal’ uitziet. Maar het stoppen valt haar zwaar. ‘Het is heel moeilijk. Ik probeer het, maar ben er nog niet helemaal vanaf. Het zit in je lijf, in je bloed. Ik voel me ziek als ik het niet gebruik. Maar ik wil ermee stoppen, vanwege mijn kinderen.’ Margaret is namelijk moeder; in haar tijd op straat kreeg ze drie kinderen. De jongste is bijna 3 jaar oud.

Harde aanpak

Hoeveel kinderen op straat leven is onbekend, maar experts gaan uit van vele duizenden. Er zijn ook tientallen hulporganisaties, maar zelfs samen kunnen zij niet alle kinderen van de straat halen. ‘Wij helpen er elk jaar tachtig tot honderd,’ zegt pater Benn Agung. Hij werkt voor de Don Bosco Boys, een katholieke organisatie. ‘Dat is een flink aantal, want we zijn helemaal afhankelijk van donoren. We moeten ze kleden, opleiden en voor ze zorgen. Het is een druppel op een gloeiende plaat, maar het is zeker iets.’

Maar geld is ook niet de belangrijkste reden waarom niet elk straatkind geholpen kan worden. Ze laten zich ook heel moeilijk helpen. Ze zomaar van straat trekken en in een afkickkliniek zetten, werkt niet. ‘Ons programma is op vrijwillige basis,’ zegt Agung. ‘We dwingen ze niet, want dan gaan ze na een dag weer terug de straat op. We hebben dat inmiddels al zo vaak meegemaakt: ze zijn verslaafd, aan hun vrijheid gewend en buitengewoon wantrouwend tegen alles wat die vrijheid weg zou kunnen nemen.’

Ook Kivairu van de Smile Foundation heeft die ervaring. ‘We hebben het geprobeerd, geloof me. We hebben zelfs huizen gehuurd voor ze. Dat gaat verkeerd, omdat er voor je het weet drugs worden gebruikt, en het huis een puinhoop wordt. Tot de buurt het beu is, en ze er uit jaagt.’ De Keniaanse overheid kiest nu voor een harde aanpak. De kinderen worden regelmatig opgepakt of van hun vaste plek weggestuurd. Ook is het verboden om spullen op straat te verkopen zonder vergunning. Kinderen die dat toch proberen, zijn doelwit van agenten. Helemaal verkeerd, vindt Agung van Don Bosco. ‘Het is een kortetermijnaanpak. De overheid heeft gefaald om het belangrijkste probleem aan te pakken: het gebrek aan banen. De kinderen van straat sturen, of ze verbannen naar buitenwijken, helpt misschien om ze te verbergen voor bezoekers van Nairobi, maar het probleem is er nog steeds.’

De enige methode, daar zijn Kivairu en Agung het over eens, is stapje voor stapje contact leggen met de kinderen. Erheen gaan, ze te eten geven en zo langzaam een band opbouwen. Pas als die er is, kan er gesproken worden over deelname aan een af kickprogramma. Toch is zelfs dat niet altijd genoeg, zegt Agung. ‘Van onze oud-studenten zijn inmiddels vijftig jongens dood. Want ze hebben dan wel een opleiding bij ons gehad, maar als dat klaar is hebben ze nog geen baan. Vaak gaan ze dan alsnog de criminaliteit in, en worden dan neergeschoten door bewakers of burgers die het recht in eigen hand nemen.’

Gelukkig gaat het vaak genoeg ook goed. Gideon Mungai (23) is door de Smile Foundation van straat gehaald. ‘Het is een wonder dat ik hier nog zit,’ zegt hij. ‘Zij en de kerk kwamen naar ons kamp, en bleven komen. Vrienden van me zijn opgepakt of vermoord, maar ik leef nog.’

Zwerende wond

In het kamp van de Black Army Gang wordt inmiddels ‘gekookt’. Een van de jongens heeft een zak slachtafval gevonden, en dat wordt in een potje op het houtvuur klaargemaakt. De tientallen straathonden kijken toe, hopend op een restje van de restjes. De jongens en de honden hebben een diepe band. Het is alsof ze weten dat ze het met elkaar zullen moeten rooien.

‘Deze heet Big Ears.’ Simon wijst naar de hond die aan zijn voeten ligt, met een flinke zwerende wond op de rug. ‘Ik hou van die hond. Waar ik ook ga, zij gaat altijd met me mee. Ze is mijn beste vriend.’ Hij geeft haar een aai, zet het doekje met terpentine aan zijn mond en ademt in.

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Every street has a society

Every base has a leader, known as a ‘master’ who is typically the eldest. For groups with older members, most masters are aged between 18 and 25. If there is no standout elder, then the master is usually the one who is known to be the most fearless, reckless and respected individual.

The master typically gets younger members of the group to undertake high risk tasks such as pedalling drugs and weapons, not caring if they end up being caught. Street children usually spend their days undertaking tasks around town before returning to the base at night. For some, this can mean leaving early in the morning with a sack, looking to collect scrap metal or plastic. Plastic can be sold on at a rate of 10 shillings per kilogram (less than 10 pence). Their haul varies every day, and if they are lucky they might bring in 10kg which usually leads them to taking a few days off. Either way, the master gets a cut.

Some members play for higher reward by engaging in theft of scrap metals from garages or housing estates. Metal can trade for 17-20 shillings per kilogram, so one good lump of metal can reap a decent return.

The bases themselves have no physical structure, and are open areas usually with suspended nylon canvases as makeshift weather protection in the absence of permanent shelter. Bases are normally extremely dirty, as the members bring food from bins that has been thrown away to eat what they can – and the remainder is disregarded at the base.

A street children’s base

Life on the street

Street life usually begins as a result of the limited prospects faced by families living in inner-city slums. Slum dwellings are typically 10ft x 10ft structures with around 7 people living in one space. Families often end up in slums because they leave rural areas of the country and come to cities chasing opportunity. In 2014 it was estimated at 56% of Kenya’s urban populations lived in slums. This statistic is reflected in Nairobi where 2.5 million people live across slums such as Kware, or the more well known Kibera Slum – the largest in Africa.

Parents of slum residing families are usually occupied trying to make ends meet, whilst often also facing difficulties with alcohol and drugs. Most families have a number of children and many of them don’t receive the attention and care they need to strive in such an unstable and unsafe environment.

Some children get moved on the other guardians such as aunties, uncles or grandparents from whom they often escape. Others are orphaned after the premature death of parents and default to life on the street. A common circumstance would be a child from a single parent household (usually a mother) who is struggling to raise her children. Such a child succumbs to the allure of earning money in the street after hearing about it from peers. This is the start of their life on the streets.

Once children or young men get involved with a base, many lose connection with their parents. Outside of hustling hand to mouth, street children also engage in highly addictive substance abuse. This typically involves the use of industrial strength cobblers glue – sniffed to give them a prolonged numb feeling. More recently, the use of turpentine is on the rise as it is ever more abundant, cheaper and easier to hide.

When using glue, children can be seen with bottles or bottle caps containing residue. Police will sometimes take any child sniffing glue to a jail cell (a band-aid approach to solving the problem). Turpentine use is more concealed since the liquid is clear and can be sniffed from a rag that’s been dipped inside it. The effects of turpentine are more short lived but more intense than glue – delivering an instant feeling of spinning in the head.

Older group members take advantage of these substances as a means to exert control and coerce younger members of the group. Children can’t access turpentine in shops so older members of the group buy it for them in return for favours. The most favoured street children in a group are often given special treatment and privileges such as protection or more drugs and alcohol.


How does it end?

A young lady begs on the corner of Kimanthi Street

For boys, more than 70% don’t make it past the age of 21. Common causes of death include falling to the wrath of street violence or at the hands of police. The most concerning? That many street children are caught stealing by community members who have been known to then deliver mob justice, resulting in them being beaten to death. If they don’t die in the process, then they are left to die in the street.

Females

Young girls are very rarely seen in the streets. Usually for one of two reasons.

Most of the time, girls in the streets are there to gain favours from the passing public in the form of money food and clothing. From a young age they learn to taking advantages of this – female adult beggars in Nairobi are often from the slums, bringing their kids with them to gain sympathy from a well wisher. Many older females default to undertake this as their primary source of income.

Fortunately there exist many support channels and organisations for young girls on the street, meaning less are falling through the net.

For those younger females in the street who do not have access to services, their fate is somewhat bleak. In most cases, these individuals do not have information on how to gain help or do not have the means to accessing it. Some of them will end up in a base made up solely of boys and young men.

In a base, their acceptance is usually attained by them being gang raped by the males in the group. Usually, any such female in these circumstances will end up becoming ‘the masters girl’. These girls are typically aged 15-17, but on odd occasion they can be as young as 10 years old. They are given housing and food and seen as ‘property of the master’. These girls are usually only then used for sexual favours by the master, and in the event that she is taken advantage of by another male in the group, it may end with the master taking her life.

In the absence of support, most of girls end up having several children with different men. These children born into the streets, and usually remain in the streets.

State intervention

The state runs accommodation locations and rehabilitation centres for street children. From what Bradley tells me, these centres reap mixed results as it would seem they are not always ran effectively. Often, many of the children and young people who should benefit from the services at these centres end up running away. More effort needs to be made to build relationships and connections with the children and young people at these centres. Delivering care and rehabilitation through compassion and by creating personal bonds will lead to more of them wanting to stay – so they do not have to look to the street to fill this void. Currently, many centres are delivering a service provision which is transactional and routine in its nature – with not all staff having the passion required to go the extra mile, often due to pressure from limited resourcing capacity.

Outside of their own direct service provision, local governments are reluctant to fund third party organisations because of bad experiences. Numerous times they have been stung by organisations taking money and then disappearing.

Largely, many of the government’s efforts are aimed at addressing the effects of street children and not the cause. Work is required to address the root cause of how family units fall apart in slums – and a level deeper than this, to consider the underlying drivers which lead families to leave a more comfortable life in rural areas to make their way to a city. Managing and understanding the movement of people should be given equal consideration to those efforts addressing families who are already in slums without work, looking after children who are outside of the education system.

The narrative

There is a clear need to recognise the damaged culture and harmful narrative which can slow down efforts being made to alleviate the plight of street children. During the same week I met Bradley, I came across two news articles linked below, they show how dehumanising some of the the language used to describe street children is. Street children are spoken of as though they are vermin, which need to be ‘flushed out’ – this sentiment finds its ways into local communities and every crevice of society, making it less likely that street children are treated with compassion.

‘Sonko flushes out street children from Nairobi CBD – PHOTOS’

‘Street children flushed out of Nairobi CBD in impromptu operation’

Source: the-star.co.keArticle by: Shammi Raichura
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