"The salary increases were a big surprise! A nice way to begin the year. You know, Raphael played a practical joke on us – he told us our salaries had been reduced. He said, 'Go and look,' so we went and we saw it had been improved! We felt very proud of Hamomi – everybody left all smiles. People were doing high fives. Happy New Year was really Happy New Year to us at that time.
"We've been doing much better than we had been doing. We are more positive and more proud of Hamomi. People around now see positive-minded people. We began the year and picked up classes with more energy – teachers coming much earlier – 6 am even. We promised we will do much better than that," Emmanuel pauses and points to the amazing 2012 KCPE results, (
more info here). "You know, once [the students] are in class 8, it is a bit late for some of them. If we prepare them in grade 6 and 7, they will be prepared. Children have noticed the change. Our neighbors too have noticed teachers who are teaching at Hamomi – they are very proud."
My favorite part about inviting Emmanuel into our workshops on any given day is that he has a lot to say. He often pauses and giggles sheepishly, apologizing for talking so much. He'll even enthusiastically interrupt me sometimes and become even more embarrassed, but still finds himself unable to refrain from sharing his thoughts. He has a mild-mannered demeanor which can lead you to assume he would be shy or meek, but he is usually bubbling over with stories and thoughts and ideas. I appreciate it greatly as the most valuable thing to be gained during my visits here is a thorough understanding of what's going on day-to-day.
At the end of the this meeting, I asked Emmanuel to repeat the above story on film, hoping to capture some of the pizzazz I watched pour out of him only an hour before, and I got
this much more subdued, professorial version, although charming nonetheless.
We moved on from the topic of the salary raises to the simple question of: What's livable in Nairobi? What are your expenses like? We always need to have current information on livable wages in order to judge the livability of the salaries we offer. Although they are never high enough for the work our staff puts in, we do need to be sure they are humane. Emmanuel came prepared with a list of costs. Keep in mind in reading below that our average teacher salary is about 14,000 KSH per month.
"This year was our election year," he began, "and usually our elections are chaotic, we don’t know whether to expect peace or what, commodities go up, food has gone up, things disappear from the market." Here Emmanuel paused, knowing that what he was about to divulge wasn't politically correct, but it is clearly important information for understanding the changes going on in their lives. "The new president is from a community," (it is noticeable that he did not say 'tribe'), "that owns the houses – they are more positive and confident now that they have won – they are hiking fares, taking advantage of the whole thing. We should explain to you our new position. So our rents have gone up because of the elections. We don’t think they will come down because the community that has taken power...there is nobody to control them. Used to be around 5,000 KSH per month, now it has gone to about 8,000 KSH. Anything less than that can be dangerous to live in, have no power, be too far from work, etc.
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Morris "The Big Guy" posing with Musumba, Director of Operations.
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"Power is around 500 KSH per month – it goes up and down but roughly 500. Something that used to be 120 is now 300. Fuel charge is abnormal – on 14th they announced that fuel has gone down by 1 shilling, next month they announced it has gone up 7 shillings. My landlord said that Monday’s newspaper said the power bill is going up starting this month – my landlord will now charge 50 KSH per unit – Kenya Power is 10 KSH but mine is 50 KSH per unit."
Here Emmanuel mentioned the cost of transport. He noted that this only applied to one staff member because the rest of them walk. I didn't realize anybody was taking public transportation so asked, "Who is traveling by
matatu?" It was one of the new teachers, Morris, who I had not met yet. They said "Wait! Let's call him," and ran to get Morris to join us. As we were waiting, Raphael began telling me that Morris is a man of great stature. He repeated this in five or six different ways, making it very clear that Morris is the Big Guy.
When Morris walked in, they were not exaggerating. He compensates for his intimidating size with his large, warm smile and a way of maintaining intent eye contact with you. After a bit of introduction to one-another I asked him about his transportation costs. We all did the math together and it came to around 1,500 KSH per month. 20 KSH here and there adds up over time.
We continued through the list, almost everything having gone up over the last year. Morris was a pleasant addition to the conversation, clearly feeling free to share thoughts. (In a later conversation about training staff, I asked how long it takes to train new staff members in the "Hamomi way" - as we have a certain style and approach that is particular to us. They said on average it is one month, but that this of course depends on the teacher. Morris for example only took a day. He was the "Hamomi way" already when they hired him.)
"Now we come to clothes. We all wear second hand clothes," Emmanuel said. I could feel my distaste for the conversation arising as I sat there in my cut-off jeans I still have from high school. I wanted to move past this one quickly as Emmanuel estimated clothes can cost somewhere in the 5,000 KSH per month range for a whole family. There is something in this that never felt pressing to me before. They're not naked, nice clothes are not a basic need, we deliver some donated clothes whenever we can, I also wear second-hand clothes. It just didn't seem important enough to dwell on and grew especially superficial sounding to me as Raphael elaborated on the fact that the ladies need to do their hair for an additional 1,000-2,000 KSH per month. But, yet again, they schooled me.
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Dorita, who teaches Class 2, resting outside the offices.
She attends college during Hamomi's breaks.
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"Teaching is an exemplary profession," Raphael began. "Teachers are mirrors of society in a way. Students need to emulate them."
Morris jumped in saying, "When teachers are dressed smarter, the students will work harder because they want to be like them."
And then Emmanuel could hardly contain himself, apologized for talking too much and said, "We talk to the students about working hard and success. Those students
do look at us and wonder what success we are talking about." Here he gave a big laugh to which Morris, Raphael and Musumba joined in. "We need to
show them that we are doing fine, that we are managing. We need to look and sound
convincing. So clothing is a big issue." In three swift points, they convinced me.
Along with this point, Emmanuel went on to food. "Now food. Food is even a bigger issue. It trumps everything else here. Still we are being judged by food. If a poor person only has 10 shillings to buy bread, they look at you and wonder. We need to look like we are eating. We don’t want to look miserable – it will reflect on our school. Hamomi is picking up very fast, if you look at the teachers and performance and students, in the few years I have been here, I am seeing big changes. I am not seeing changes around here," Emmanuel pauses and waves his arm to indicate the surrounding area. "Now we are aiming towards being like those outside [of this community] – our competitors. I don’t feel shy saying between you and the directors, if we continue working, soon our results will be as good as other schools outside. We could beat them."
Emmanuel caught himself having gotten wrapped up in his enthusiasm again and looked back down at his list of commodities to rein himself back in. "Before we used to use around 7,000 or 8,000 KSH on food, because of the new prices of food we now put 15,000 KSH to food. All the teachers have families – somehow we are doing away with bachelors," they all laugh. This is a joke about the fact that many of the single staff members are growing families, often because they have become guardians for Hamomi students.
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Emmanuel posing together with 2012 KCPE Candidate Mildred.
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Now if you've noticed that their list have far surpassed their average salary, you're correct. One consolation, although still not good enough, is that Hamomi's staff receives all the benefits that the students receive - breakfast and lunch six days a week, and medical care. Their children attend Hamomi, (all but two of them have children in our primary school and two of them have children on Hamomi Secondary School Scholarships). Our staff also earns in USD so inflation is usually balanced relatively well by the exchange rate benefiting them. Luckily, some of this insulates them from the changes in and around Nairobi they are describing, affecting their lives much less than the rest of the population.
However, the costs of living go on and on, leading us down a very interesting conversation about culture and the pressures on them by their families.
"In my person opinion," Raphael began, "where we are born, where we come from, the fields have been tilled and tilled and tilled - they are no longer productive and we now have small portions of land. Down there maybe you have your father, mine he is now losing his sight. I need to look for money for his treatment." Raphael uses his arm to make his next point in a way Kenyans do to indicate upcountry by pointing his finger and lifting his arm up and over, creating a rainbow like arc forwards. "You need to assist the other side.
"If you let your mother die of hunger when you are working at Hamomi in a very decent profession, a white collar job, that will be a curse."
Here Emmanuel adds, "Like me, I asked for permission to be able to travel next week because my mother needs to see me." By his expression and tone, I think he is indicating that she is ill. "Fairs are high, I need to arrive there with sugar, rice, flour, kerosene and give her something to treat her malaria in this rainy season. When the rains come, upcountry we all know the malaria is coming."
As it gets quiet for a moment, I apologize if my question will offend any of them and tell them they do not have to answer. I ask, "How many people in your extended families do you support?"
"I have a brother and sister and father that depend on me," Musumba offers. He is also a single father of two small kids, Phebe and Henry.
"I have four sisters and a father who depend on me," Raphael says. "My father was taken to hospital, I paid the bills, he was advised never to touch a [tool] for the [working in the fields] ever again. He used to be very hard-working. I remember going home and telling him, 'Let me pay someone to assist you' and he used to resist completely. But now the doctor advised, so he is totally dependent on me." Raphael is also a single father of two, Michael and Moses.
"I have two sisters and two parents who depend on me," Morris adds. "Every month I have to send them something at home. I have two sisters here in Nairobi. One is not working, but sometimes she gets work. The other one is sick and depends so much on me. They stay only a few meters away from me." This last part explains why he needs to stay where he rents, to be near his sisters who need him, costing him the 1,500 KSH in transport every month.
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10 of the 2012 Class 8 Candidates posing with Nathan (left) their Swahili teacher, Musumba (3rd from left), Director
of Operations and Morris (right) their Social Studies teacher "of great stature".
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"I have my mother who is widowed so she depends on her children," Emmanuel says. "One of my sisters is hard-working so she and I each pay 50% of the bills. Our other sister depends on me. Our other brother is on and off - sometimes he is reliable to help and sometimes he is not." Emmanuel is also a father of one.
We have discussed this point probably as far as I should push it, not wanting to offend, but I ask, "Do those brothers and sisters you all support, do they have children?" All four of them at once give an emphatic, "Oh yes!" I don't ask for numbers, but the thought of it is staggering.
Why Hamomi?
As we are wrapping up, I ask Morris how he came to work at Hamomi.
"I was working at Kangemi Youth Primary just down the street. I did not like it there. I did not like it but I still used to work very hard. I decided to put my effort on this other side. Hamomi was our competitor so much. I came to know them as our rough competitor. That’s how I got so much interest." (
You can see Morris tell this story himself here.)
I realized I had somehow never known the story of how Emmanuel found Hamomi. He told me, "I used to work with Ruth [the long-time Hamomi preschool teacher] at a different school. She used to call me frequently after she came to Hamomi. When there was an opening she was not tribal and called me." This was pointing out that she and him are from different tribes and as nepotism and tribalism are very common, it was noticeable that Ruth was not.
"Lucky Kids was the other school," Emmanuel continued, "I liked it, it wasn't a bad school, it was a nice school, but if I compare with Hamomi, Ruth really had to convince," he shakes his head and gives a laugh. "It was much bigger, better buildings, richer parents. They come to school with cars. Ruth talked to me when Mr. Raphael and Mr. Musumba sent her to find a language teacher. She talked to me and told me that Hamomi will grow and you’ll find yourself better than you are now. So somehow I trusted her. She looked more positive and happier [than when she was at Lucky Kids] – here she was helping kids who didn't have any money. She identified with the kids – she thought she was more appreciated by them. Everybody appreciated the love and care. Here she was part of a family."
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The 2012 Candidates goofing around with Raphael, Hamomi's founder and Executive Director.
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"She was an orphan!" Raphael interceded and everybody laughed loudly.
"She told me Hamomi is growing with future programs. There is promise. At Lucky Kids it was whatever I was earning, that was it - no promise. Hamomi is not so officious like it was there, a bit more relaxed, a bit more care. There, it was all about money. They charged so much and the owner doesn't really care anything about the school. You make a mistake, the punishment is that you are fired. Parents can't pay fees they are kicked out. Hamomi had a more humane touch."
I think of all that Emmanuel has told me about the costs in his life. Then I consider the risk he has taken to come to Hamomi, the passion he pours into his work and the way our students have benefited form it in everything from the love they receive to the exam scores they earn. I realize I have made the mistake of thinking of our staff as needy, as having no other opportunities (like our kids), but Emmanuel reminds me that while many of them are stranded for work, there are many of them who are taking just as big of a risk on Hamomi as I am, (as the whole Hamomi-USA side is). We have all put our necks on the line together.
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| Daniel "Stay Strong" Isindu, the trusted Math teacher in 2012. |
