We'll Get a Luo First

I must say I'm overjoyed that Colin Powell came out for Barack Obama. I can't tell you how happy I would be if we got the first Luo/American President. Some of my friends on Facebook can't believe it, but the world is indeed watching and I pray we get it right.
And now for the final installment of
Miles to go before I sleep...
11 October 2008

Yesterday began as all mornings do at the lovely Blue York, no power and again a cold shower. I struggle to down the breakfast and am most anxious about the meeting with Monica. The night before I had prayed hard and surrendered it all up to God. For you who are non-believers, this practice might seem foolish, but I have always found that when I totally surrender my will to Him, the path is made clear.
The ride to Kisumu is it’s usual hot dusty affair, however as a muzungu I must always make a decision. Since there is no air-conditioning, I can either burn my arm by opening the window, or sweat until my clothes are soaked. Typical of me, I tried both.
Finding Monica and KMET was an adventure in and of itself. It is tucked behind a main road, on a bumpy, rock infested stretch of dirt. We had to call Monica several times before we found it. However she told me she would come out to meet us and I told her she couldn’t miss me because I was a muzungu. She was astonished and thought I was Luo, which I took as a compliment. My Luo is much better than my Swahili.
What happened next was nothing short of a miracle. Monica began describing the programs they have in place including nutrition, and education as well as micro loans. I explained what we wanted to do and she and her board member, another Monica were quite enthused. I showed them the playpump (yes she has internet) and they loved it. They loved the idea of running a clinic on weekends, and using the schools on the months they are closed for training. They are the link I needed for us to get to where we are aiming. They have community organizers on the ground, nutritionists, and a whole bevy of essential people we need to make it. And best of all they are already there.
We agreed that I would go home and draw up a contract of what we would expect of them and how we would fund it, along with a history of One Village and they would make the necessary calls to get the ball rolling.
Francis dropped me off for the late flight at 4P so he could get home to Nairobi. I then waited 3 hours for the plane, but I was finally clear on what decisions I had to make. And today when I woke up I was able to write the letters that needed to be written: Mabunge shall be dropped, Manyole shall be on probation, and we shall start with Malanga.
It seems there are not as many miles now to go as I thought there were.


12 October 2009
It seems fitting that I wrap up with some observations on politics and tribal allegiances both here and in the U.S. Kenyans are, of course, mad for Obama. They warn that if he wins, the town of Kisumu will go wild, as indeed I think it will.
As a muzungu, I find I’m pretty invisible in some ways. Kenyans love to talk about politics and particularly now. As the white girl I don’t belong to any tribe, so anyone can put forth their ideas about the history of their government and how things have evolved, and they don’t have to worry about offending me. If a Kikuyu says a Luo is lazy or sneaky, it’s ok, I’m not Luo. If a Luya says that the Kikuyus have taken all the land and left them with nothing, I can listen I’m not Kikuyu.
Though the tribes agree on the fact that Kenyatta, Moi and Kibeki have been presidents of Kenya, they see each one’s rule quite differently. While all agree that any one from any tribe can go anywhere, under the surface lies fear and anger. Since the riots of last winter, each Kenyan knows what is possible in their country, though they don’t want to talk about it. I fear for that reason it may happen again.
I am glad I missed the worst week in financial history in the U.S. I would have felt powerless and out of sorts. However, as we face our own political contest, our tribes are beginning to show their stripes. We don’t have formal names exactly, but they exist and hatreds can be just as deep. I think the only difference is that we don’t use pangas to kill, but surely we cheat at the poles.
The Kenyan papers have been full of news about Obama and Pallin. (McCain seems to be of no interest here). I read that there was a gathering for McCain and Pallin and at some point someone yelled, “kill him!” referring to Obama. Didn’t they mean lynch? We have not come far at all when it comes to lynching and burning crosses, and excluding certain ethnic groups. We’re just a little more smug and hide it better, until someone yells “kill him” and those of us who lived through the 60’s remember all our leaders gone. I pray we don’t repeat that, but in my heart there is a small fear that someone could indeed kill him and we would repeat the past again.
I leave for the airport in a few hours. I shall be glad to get back to the U.S. I want to scrub myself, and eat food I know. I want to sleep in my new bed and cuddle with the cats, but I know whether I am here or in the U.S the future is indeed a truth not fully revealed.
Respectfully Submitted,
Susan B. Gross
Executive Director “One Village at a Time”