One Year Ago

One year ago today, I found myself walking towards Hamomi, with no idea of what the next three weeks, and subsequent year would bring my way. I had barely put my suitcase down after my return trip to Nairobi from Embu, where I abandoned my lackluster internship, when I got the call from Hannah, a volunteer at Hamomi giving me directions to the school. I was unfamiliar with the area, but confident in my navigation skills, and very comfortable with maneuvering around town, so I headed out, with high hopes and realistic expectations. Having been directed to make sure I took a specific route, I did so, and was soon underway, slightly tapping my foot along to the deafening beat that was booming from the matatu sub woofer. Soon, I began to notice that we had exchanged a paved road for a dirt one, and the multi level apartment buildings for tin shacks, and knew we must be getting close. But, as I waited for the matatu to turn as Hannah mentioned, I got increasingly nervous as we headed straight, and knew I was about to be lost. I was even more panicked when the matatu stopped, emptied, and turned around. Having no other choice, I followed the crowd and found my self standing in the middle of Kawanware, unbeknownst to me, without the slightest idea of where to even begin. Now, I had walked through Kibera, the notorious slum of Nairobi, a few times, but every time had been with a group of people and a working knowledge of the nearest route out. I knew it was better not to panic and look lost, so I instinctively started walking back the way I came. With Hannah on the phone, I begged for directions, all the while trying not to talk too loudly and alert the gawking bystanders of my vulnerable situation. I came to an intersection and decided to turn the way I thought the matatu should have, hoping, praying, pleading that it was the right way. As I walked deeper and deeper into the slum, I was trying to look straight ahead while at the same time to take everything in. The noise coming from the competing stereos of the various stalls selling a mixture of vegetables, second hand clothes, and other random electronic parts. I breathed a sigh of relief as a white girl about my age walked towards me as I pointed out the obvious, “ You’re Hannah, right?”, to which she replied, “Well, who else would I be?”. Duh.


We spent the walk chatting about this and that and learning about each others backgrounds, but I honestly couldn’t tell you anything about that conversation today. I remember being slightly envious of Hannah, as she walked with confidence down the street, while I followed behind, with my bag in a death grip. As the walk continued, I also couldn’t help but notice how long it took to get there and wondered how I was ever going to find my own route there. We passed a nice big school, and as I got into my walking legs, we stopped abruptly at a tin wall, and she directed me in. We had arrived. I couldn’t have been more pleased, as I was secretly hoping for nothing more than tin shacks to work in. It was completely opposite of where I had come from, a beautiful, mahogany finished USAID office with wireless, and with no purpose for me. Hamomi was quite honestly, exactly what you would expect out of an internship in a slum of Africa. And I was delighted! I remember meeting Musumba and Raphael, and being particularly nervous as I explained to them what I was looking to get out of my time there, trying to sound very professional, as if I was on a job interview. “So, what do you want to do here?” The question caught me off guard, as I was expecting to be put to use filling in whatever holes they had, But, Hamomi isn’t like that. They wanted me to do what I thought would be best to contribute to the school. Fumbling over words and assuring them I could do anything, I happened to mention that I had a mini computer with me and was pretty tech savvy ( although I know I didn’t use that terminology), and pretty soon it was decided that I would be the resident computer teacher. As Hannah gave me a tour around, I remember walking into every classroom and being greeted with a standing audience respectfully greeting me and very excited to have me. I couldn’t tell you if I stayed for lunch that day, or if I even taught any classes, although I remember sitting in on an English class and marking student’s papers when they were finished with their assignment. It was a lot to take in, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to make of everything, except to conclude that I had made a very good decision in going there.


It’s hard for me to comprehend that I only spent three weeks there, because I feel like I was able to get quite a bit done and made such a connection with a few of the students, it feels like it had to have been longer. Looking back, I remember being so proud of the work I was doing and was only too happy to boast to others where I worked and what I did. It was so empowering to be a student interning at such an inspiring organization that gave me the freedom to contribute where I thought I could. I felt so valued. Who knew that a 10-inch computer and a working knowledge of it would lead me back here one year later? Who knew that I’d be able to not only introduce the internet to Hamomi students for the very first time, but would be able to equip them with email addresses that allowed me to keep in touch with them after I was gone? Who knew? I sure didn’t. For me, Hamomi started out as a way to get out of Embu and my assigned internship while still completing the requirements for my study abroad course. What it turned into was an experience so enriching, so lasting, and so meaningful, it brought me back here a year later, to continue the work I started. I can truly, honestly say, I didn’t expect to be back this soon, and with Eric, for an extended period of time. Looking back at what I thought my life would look like a year from then, I, well, I guess it really doesn’t matter what I thought I’d be doing or where I thought I’d be. Because I’m here, teaching 40 students a skill that will only help them integrate into the business world at a faster pace than many of their peers, equipping them with skills and knowledge that they can use to their advantage regardless of what education or career path they take. And, it all started with one little computer in one little cement walled, tin-roofed office. One year ago today, I embarked on a journey that would define the next year of my life, and longer. I can only imagine how this time around will shape this next year, and perhaps, years to come.

-Laurel