Wednesday 28 January 2026
I have dragged the huge mound of bras down the stairs and along to the wee cafe to have breakfast. No electricity again. There is another 100 litres of soap chemicals to buy before heading to Kitengela to meet Vicky.
We kick things off by visiting a couple of existing businesses. The first started two years ago making soap, and now has grown to have a greengrocers stall, with a back section which sells jeans and men’s trousers. The soap business is still going on the side. The second group started as one of our Kucha Kool groups (Cool Nails) and has grown into a full hairdressers (which also does manicures and is the mothership for the 12 strong team of manicurists who go out on call to do nails at home or at events.
Our new groups are meeting us near Isinya. There are seven of them , fifteen women in each except for one group which has seventeen.
They seem – some of them – particularly sThey have, between them, 294 children. They seem a bit shy and even giggly when I speak to them. I am working up to a tetch (my default setting) when Vicky digs me in the side and hisses that I am the first white person they have ever seen, let alone been asked personal questions by, Fair dos. All of them are being rescued from extreme violence – sometimes tribal, sometimes just husbands doing what husbands do here. Plus all of them need to save their girls from FGM and early marriage. All the mums were forcibly married off themselves and they do not want that to happen to their girls. In a new turn of events, many of the girls in these groups are not to be sold off for money, or cattle, but merely used as a bargaining tool. A sort of “I will give you my terrified ten year old to do with as you please if you promise not to burn my village down”.
The businesses are good : the bras are always a winner, especially the big ones (so thank you to my DD Donors), there is the soap making group, one selling Crocs, two selling carrier bags and we have a maize farm. We get into slightly murky waters when I ask one group why they want to sell carrier bags. What the girl says translates as “it’s easy”. But that is not what she means. Vicky points out (again, I had not even considered this, being thoughtless to the core) that the women are speaking in their second language. And one that they don’t use a lot. But we sort everything out. Everyone is happy, the ladies get their fares with a cup of tea included and David, Vicky and I go to get something to eat.
“Salad” in many places here means shredded cabbage and onion with a dressing of lemon juice. I love it. Here in Kitengela is translates as boiled cabbage with carrot. Ah well. When in Kitengela …
Purity calls to say her father is ill and she has to take him to hospital so can we change tomorrow’s funding. “Fathers come first” I declare.
Back at Corner I get a visit from the tiny kitten that hangs around the building. I have no food for it but offer milk (I know … probably shouldn’t) and we have a delightful evening.
