Six Months and Monks

Today marks six months since I arrived in Kenya. Has it really been that long? Half a year ago I stepped off the plane, exhausted after a day and a half of flying, hoping only for a bed to sleep off my jetlag. I told myself that night I arrived that I would just take it day by day, and not think about the overwhelming amount of time I would spend away from home in an unfamiliar part of the world. Yet it seems that time is a funny thing. The months have slipped away, and now I am waking up to realize that I only have five months left in Kenya. I'm more than half way through my year.

This past weekend I stayed with the other YAVs and Phyllis at a Benedictine monastery outside of Nairobi. We had come together for a meeting to reflect on these past six months in Kenya, and to discuss plans for our remaining time here and beyond. The monastery provided the perfect setting for reflection. Situated amidst rolling green hills of forest and farmland, the place is a haven of peace right outside a fast-paced and noisy city. I appreciated the overall quietness of the place, interrupted only by bird songs in the day, and the chanting of the monks in the evening at their Vespers service. Walking around the grounds of the monastery, I came across several statues of saints, and one glorious life-sized sculpture of Jesus Christ with a crown that I thought looked like a wedding cake. Though not part of my own faith tradition, these statues were powerful and seemed familiar to me. I thought back to the visits I made as a child to another monastery with my father when we lived in Wisconsin. Sitting high up on a forested hillside, we could climb the church's steeple and look out at the surrounding countryside. The Kenyan monastery I just visited this weekend had a similar connection to nature, and a stillness that brought peace to the mind and allowed room for introspection.

In our group discussion Phyllis asked the question, what in Kenya has effected you the most, and how will this remain with you when you return home to the US? One simple example came to my mind right away when she asked us this question. I thought back to the time I was cooking with a Kenyan friend of mine and using some oil. When it ran out I went to throw away the bottle. Yet my friend stopped me, saying, 'Why are you throwing that away? Some people in my village pay 30 shillings for those bottles so that they can gather water.' It struck me then that the lifestyle I'm living is extremely different from the majority of people in this country, and probably around the world. I have long since realized that there are two different economies functioning in Kenya-- one for the wealthy, and one for everyone else. 500 shillings that some people spend on one meal at Java House restaurant could feed an entire family living in a rural village for two weeks. Here in Kenya the division is clearly visible. Yet I know that there are people living in the US that experience this same inequality in lifestyle, and that the reality of this is not only far away in some developing nation, but close to home as well.


I have had some intense experiences over the past six months of living in Kenya. Visiting places like Kibera, Africa's largest slum, and hearing people's stories of struggle and survival through my work at OAIC have opened up my eyes. With these experiences fresh in my mind, I will probably find it difficult to travel home and live life again in the US. Yet I do not want to feel guilt for myself, nor be critical of my family members and others around me for the way we live. Instead I hope to use what I've experienced in a positive way, to tell the stories I've heard, and share what I've seen in order to create awareness and bring about change.

A Woman of Faith

I am currently writing a story for OAIC's website about a lady I interviewed named Gladys Kenyani Kedogo. Gladys is a quiet lady with a gentle nature. By appearance she is a woman like any other. Yet in reality Gladys is a key female leader in her African Independent Church and has spent her life speaking out to support marginalized groups of people and to teach HIV and AIDS awareness. What is most compelling about Gladys’ story is that she has personally experienced the issues she speaks about, and her faith has survived in order to change her community for the better.

Gladys comes from a village called Tigoi in Western Kenya, the area of the country I visited over Christmas break. Since the early 1970's she has been involved in women's ministries in her Independent Church, referred to by many as "Mama Center" because she is at the center of her church’s community.

In 1995, OAIC trained Gladys as a Trainer of Trainees (TOT) to promote HIV and AIDS awareness among youth. Gladys would speak to groups in her church and in surrounding communities about the HIV virus and how to prevent its transmission. At the time, the disease was still relatively new, and there were several misconceptions and stereotypes floating around in the air. Many church communities, in particular, viewed HIV as a "curse from God" and therefore stigmatized those living with the disease. Gladys spoke out to change these views and to educate people that HIV is a virus that attacks the human immune system, and not a curse from God.

Along with some of the beliefs that her community held, there were also several traditions that Gladys' ethnic community, known as the Luhyia, practice that she realized might be responsible for the spread of HIV. Wife inheritance, for example, in which a widow is 'inherited' or remarried to her brother-in-law, causes several problems according to Gladys, one being the high risk of transmitting HIV. The practice of male circumcision also was a major factor, because the elders would often use one razor blade to circumcise all the boys in the village. Along the same lines, when a person dies in the village, it is custom to shave the heads of all the deceased's family members, and similarly the elders used one razor blade on everyone involved. Because of Gladys mission to teach about HIV awareness, she could not help but speak out about these practices that she viewed as harmful.

Gladys speaks with conviction about these challenges due to the fact that she has experienced many of the same issues personally. Ten years ago, Gladys’ husband died tragically in a road accident, leaving her as a widow with ten children to care for. When her family members requested that she go for inheritance, she refused on Christian principles. Because she had spoken out against many of her Luhyia traditions and also had refused to be inherited, the elders shunned her. To this day Gladys cannot attend circumcision ceremonies among other rituals that go on in her village, and often she must leave the village entirely when these customs are being performed.

To add to the calamity, Gladys discovered that she herself is HIV positive, after having preached awareness of the disease for the previous ten years. Despite her effort to discover how she had contracted the disease, Gladys could find no answers. She began treatment on Antiretroviral drugs (ARV's), and has managed to keep herself healthy and functioning. However, contracting the virus has seriously impacted Gladys' life. The drugs she must take are expensive, and with no income to speak of, Gladys finds it extremely difficult to feed herself, her family, and to buy the necessary medications. When she asks for assistance from her extended family members and neighbors, they reject her, saying that if she had accepted the tradition of inheritance, she would have been taken care of. She explains, “So if you go to that house, you need some salt, they say 'Why does she come here begging? Since she said God is there for her, why can't God bring for her salt or food from heaven?’ So when I don't have any money I just live in God.”

Gladys' faith has saved her from facing her life's challenges empty-handed. OAIC has also encouraged Gladys, teaching her about how to sustain herself as a victim of HIV. Staff members from OAIC trained her about certain natural medicines such as Artimesia and Maringa that boost her immune system and supplement her ARV's. OAIC also made it possible for Gladys to buy a cow, which now supports her through its produce.

A typical homestead in Western Kenya.

Looking back on her life, Gladys is proud of the work she has done because it has brought about positive changes in her village. Now more widows are standing firm, refusing the tradition of wife inheritance. The elders have also heeded Gladys' slogan 'one knife, one child' during their circumcision ceremonies, thus stemming the risk of spreading HIV. Although they still have not fully accepted Gladys back into their midst, the community has taken actions to address the risks that some of their traditions potentially cause.

Despite her various hardships in life, Gladys has not once lost her courage or her faith. It is by this faith that she continues to live each day, staying healthy and optimistic, and continuing to change her community.