An Honest Conversation on Domestic Wages

As many of you know, I am part of a facebook group of Nairobi moms (called mums here, and don’t you forget it.)  Occasionally, someone will post something to the group that really riles up the crowd and there will be lots and lots of comments flowing from it.  Once such comment was made last night.

To “translate”, the woman above, Sherry, is asking if it is really possible that nannies get paid between $360-$580 USD per month.  She is obviously incredulous.  She clearly has NO IDEA how much childcare costs in the US.  For the record, at the highest, we’ve paid upwards of $1200 USD per month for full time care in CO and that did not include evenings, weekends, date nights, or sick days for only ONE child.  (We only sustained that expense for one month.)  I know friends who have paid much more than that in higher end markets.

But what interests me is that following Sherry’s remark was a fairly honest disclosure from these (mostly) Kenyan mums about paying their domestic helpers.  Many women “liked” a commenter who said that it was true that people get paid terrible amounts (2, 3, 4K) but that it depends on how much the family has to pay the worker.  One woman owned up to paying her nanny 37K ($430 USD).  Many others felt like if you pay your nanny more, then you can depend on them to do more tasks.  Yet others warned that paying your nanny really does not correlate to how well they take care of your kids.  Maintaining a respectful relationship is the only way to ensure good workers.

None of the comments made were anything new to me.  But what did interest me was that it became clear that there are two markets out there for domestic workers.  There are those who work for “peanuts,” as it was mentioned by the commenters, and there are those who work for wages that might be acceptable.  If you were one of those workers in the “peanuts” category, you might not even know that there was another market out there or how to break into it.

Job’s Refuge

I think I’ve always known about domestic violence.  When we were little our clothes that didn’t fit anymore and discarded toys went to Job’s Refuge – a place described to me as a “battered women’s shelter”.  I knew it had nothing to do with making cakes and cookies.  I know that my dad had something to do with the establishment of this important place.  I must have rationalized the existence of a women’s and children’s shelter, and the violence that it implied, in the same way that I understood other crimes.  Some people beat their spouses like other steal and yet others commit other heinous acts.  But domestic violence really goes beyond other crimes.  When women (or men, or children) are assaulted or violated in their own homes by the people who supposedly love them most, the perpetrators take away the very essence of security from their lives.  Stolen from the victims is the notion of trust and of safety.  I don’t know how those feelings can ever be recovered.  How could I have possibly understood this as a child and why didn’t I ask out loud, How can something so terrible exist in our society?

I am thinking a lot about this today because Lydiah, our nanny/housekeeper, has told me that her daughter is being beaten by her husband.  She feels that she must act to defend her daughter and grandchildren.  But what is the right path?  I have told her that in my opinion a man who can beat his wife is a very violent person, and I fear for her safety.  And yet, as a mother, I sympathize completely with her wanting to do something.  So tomorrow she will go upcountry to the village where her daughter lives and determine whether she must collect her daughter and grandchildren or whether she will just show her face as a warning to her son-in-law that she is capable of taking them all away.

As far as I know, there are very limited spaces in shelters in Nairobi for victims of domestic violence.  Without strong family bonds, a person like Lydiah’s daughter would have nowhere to turn, nowhere to go.  Unfortunately, this problem is not limited to East Africa, but it is a global problem that spans race, ethnicity, nationality and class lines. 

How Do You Know….

…. that it’s Christmastime in Nairobi?

Well, they’ve moved the condoms up toward the checkout line at our grocery store.  (They were previously hiding in the alcohol room behind the counter.  Much more accessible here.)

The Visitors

I was totally incommunicado over the last week because of my lovely visitors (let’s call them Santa Claus and Millennium Investors) came to Nairobi.  You have no idea how awesome it feels when people stop their normal and busy lives, get on long-ass flights that are non-too-cheap, and brave travelers diarrhea (yep) just to see say hi in person.  Well SC and MI did the Nairobi whirlwind tour because they were only here for 5 days and there is no way to do everything in that amount of time.  But here are some highlights:

- The giraffe center.  Man, this place never disappoints.  Both MI and SC got giraffe kisses and we left with a new slogan: “No food, no friendship.”

- Since SC is a foster parent of an orphan elephant through the Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage, we were all able to to go the evening, private viewing of the elephants where we put them to bed and sang lullabies.  OK, so there really weren’t lullabies involved, but there was honest-to-god elephant trunk petting and those babies are super cute.    One keeper told us that we needed to have love in our hearts.  Elephants know your intentions, so they have to be pure.  (I think I’m getting the actual wording wrong, but it was something like that.)  Why do baby elephants turn us into mush?

- Some good food, some interesting art, lots and lots of traffic (it is Nairobi, after all). 

And then there were a few hiccups that make great stories.

Like remember the time that we were in the National Park (an area populated with lions, snakes, hippos, flamingoes, scary looking vulture-ish birds, rhinos, etc…) and we were low on gas, and then couldn’t seem to find the gate to exit the park.  And then we hit a rock and the check engine light came on.  And it crossed our minds that we might not make it outta there alive.  Fun in retrospect.  A tad scary in reality.

And remember that other time when we went to Hells Gate National Park and there seemed to be a storm brewing so we rented bikes and hauled ass over gravel “roads” in bikes that didn’t really fit our bodies. Ouch!  And then we went hiking on steep wet rocks (Not the smartest move ever) until we were confronted by a gigantic mud flow.  So we got the hell outta there.  Yea, mud flows are cool and scary.

And remember when we were navigating our way through a city where people drive on the “wrong” (ie right) side of the street and we got so confused by rights and lefts that we just gave up and started pointing this way and that?

And finally, remember the time when we wanted to get some souvenirs from the market and we were so accosted by the “shop” owners (cuz they really were just showing their wares on blankets on the ground, not really in shops) that we started to get all mean and tough saying stuff like, “take it or leave it,” and “I’m walking outta here in 10 seconds?” 

Remember those times?

MI and SC will have to remind me of all the rest that made this an epic trip.  Thanks for coming.  We appreciated it!

A Weekend in Addis–Still Some Jumpy Nerves

First, the jumpy nerves:  Upon return to Nairobi from our weekend in Addis Ababa, we hit the grocery store for a a mega-shop.  After all, we needed the important stuff for our very important visitors arriving tonight.  Well, Sunday is a busy day at our local grocery and just when we were almost finished, the power died… in the busy grocery store.   It was pitch black.  Considering our recent history of an attack in a mall much like the one we were in and in the exact same store across town… I was freaked.  In retrospect, I’m actually disappointed that I didn’t move quicker.  It took me a whole 3… maybe 4 seconds to pick J out of the shopping cart and start moving.  The lights came back on 6 or 7 seconds later; with babe in arms I hadn’t gotten far.   Thankfully, there was no danger.  What would you have done in a similar situation?

All in all, I’m glad to know that my reflexes work, even if not quite as fast as I would have hoped. 

Second, you may have wondered: what the heck were we doing in Ethiopia for a weekend?  Well, we like the food and wanted to get a more authentic taste!  That is both true and insufficient.  It also happened that our visas were set to expire, so out of the EAC we went in order to renew them.  And we had a really lovely time.  The pool at the Hilton was perfect for J (he dipped twice on Saturday), the food was authentic and fabuloso, and the little bit of the city that we actually saw seemed a bit more approachable than the crazy/hectic pace of Nairobi.  The grass is always greener, I guess.  I hope we’ll have an opportunity to return and learn more about Hallie Selassie and the Lucy discovery – two people (or humanoid, in the case of Lucy) who have made Ethiopia great. 

All is quiet on the home front.  J is down to sleep for the night and DW is taking a snooze before he picks up our guests who arrive at the airport just after midnight.  I was told that my bro would, “never speak to me again” if we aren’t there to get him at the airport.  I reminded him that even if we didn’t get him that his trip wouldn’t be wasted because the lions are very hungry at night….

Don’t worry – we’ll be there barring any unforeseen  circumstances.

Life Roundup

My days have been mostly filled with diss writing, reading, and research, but I have other things on the brain too.

- We’re heading to Addis and I need to get USD to enter (how annoying) and updated passport photos.

- Millennium Investments and Santa Claus are headed our way in just a few days – WOOHOO! (not their real names, duh).

- I need to pick up another mosquito net for MI’s bed.

- We’re thinking of putting J in preschool when he turns 2 (with the caveat that if he gets sick like he did in daycare, we’ll pull him out.)  I’m conflicted because I think about how he’ll likely go to school so much of his life, that maybe we should prolong the freedom of staying at home since we can afford home helpers here.  But I also know how enriching, fun, social, and exhausting it will be for him.  Advice on this one would be greatly appreciated.

- I’m getting increasingly worried about our personal safety as the trial of Kenya’s President, Uhuru Kenyatta, gets underway in the ICC in November.  I have been polling cab drivers and any other Kenyan I meet – most believe that he should stand trial.  Some say that it’s because he’s innocent and he should clear his name.  Others think the rule of law must be upheld.  While I totally agree with those sentiments in principle, I am genuinely afraid for what will happen here if he is convicted of crimes against humanity.  First, will he be deposed?  Who will be president in his stead, especially if his deputy, Ruto, is also convicted?  Then, how will the public react?  Will we have 2007-level of violence here?  I hope we see the writing on the wall before any kind of rioting or other mayhem occurs and we get out.  This isn’t my battle to fight and I only wish the best for the Kenyan people.

- The weather is starting to heat up and the short-rains that were supposed to start in October, have yet to fall.  I can’t decide if I should be grateful for the rain-reprieve or nervous for the coming drought if this continues. 

(There are lots of other things to tell you all about: our trip to Amboseli and all the ELEPHANTS that we saw, my new volunteer project with NHC, the things I’m planning to do in the U.S….. and more.)

You Just Never Know…

The Daily Nation is now reporting that Samantha Lewthwaite aka “The Black Widow” was living in Lavington in the Oakpark Apartments just before the Westgate attack…. Although it has not been confirmed that she was part of the attack, she does seem to have a very long history of affiliation with dangerous men.  That, in and of itself, does not condemn her, but man … it’s not someone I really want to hang out with at the grocery store.

Hmmmm…. when I read that, I kept thinking… man, the Oakpark Apartments.  Sounds so familiar.  Lavington is our neighborhood.  And then I walked out of my compound today to run a few errands and BLAMO! there it is.  The Oakpark apartments are basically across the street from our house.  100 feet away maybe.  She could’ve been buying milk for her kids behind me in line at Nakumatt.