September 27, 2005
The next day, I drop the resignation off for Dan. Throughout the day, I talk with people and tell them about my decision to leave. Even though news of my resignation will spread fast, there are certain people I want to tell myself.
When I see Kikoli, a student from the Congo, I tell him I’ll be leaving and he is sad. Kikoli is such a kind man and an earnest student. I admire how hard he works to learn English and can appreciate the difficulty of having to do his thesis research and writing in a language he hasn’t yet mastered. We’re in the library on the second floor, exhanging email addresses so we can stay in touch, and Kikoli says, “You made the right decision.” I’m rather surprised by his attitude until he tells me his story. He shares an apartment in a 13 unit building in Nyalenda. In July, Kikoli and his two other Congolese roommates were in their living room at 9:00pm one night when 17 thugs busted through their front door. The men had guns and knives and took just about everything of value.
“We are Congolese and because we live in Kenya to go to school, they think we have money,” Kikoli tells me.
I hadn’t heard his story until now. Each new person I tell, I hear their personal experiences with crime, whether it happened to them or their family member or friend. It’s apparent crime in Kisumu is much worse than I and VSO had realized. And it’s much worse mainly because people consider these incidences normal and do not report them to the police and do not tell people in warning. If I had heard some of these stories before, perhaps I would have been more cautious and better prepared when I was robbed. In Kisumu, being a victim of crime is something people try to prevent but know it could easily happen to them anyway. That is not the way I want to live.
After work, I walk to the end of Tom Mboya Road, the road I live on, and meet Dawn, a fellow VSO volunteer, at the Tom Mboya Labor College. Dawn is African-Amerian, from Texas, and she’s serving as a volunteer in Kitui, a village southeast of Nairobi. Dawn is in Kisumu to attend a nurse’s conference this l week, but she’s not impressed with the conference content and is especially worn down by the long and fruitless speeches given today by important Kenyans. We walk to Ned’s house in Nyalenda to get her gear, then go to my house, where Dawn will stay through Saturday. She’s shocked to hear about the robbery and that I’ll be leaving Kisumu, but she understands.
When I see Kikoli, a student from the Congo, I tell him I’ll be leaving and he is sad. Kikoli is such a kind man and an earnest student. I admire how hard he works to learn English and can appreciate the difficulty of having to do his thesis research and writing in a language he hasn’t yet mastered. We’re in the library on the second floor, exhanging email addresses so we can stay in touch, and Kikoli says, “You made the right decision.” I’m rather surprised by his attitude until he tells me his story. He shares an apartment in a 13 unit building in Nyalenda. In July, Kikoli and his two other Congolese roommates were in their living room at 9:00pm one night when 17 thugs busted through their front door. The men had guns and knives and took just about everything of value.
“We are Congolese and because we live in Kenya to go to school, they think we have money,” Kikoli tells me.
I hadn’t heard his story until now. Each new person I tell, I hear their personal experiences with crime, whether it happened to them or their family member or friend. It’s apparent crime in Kisumu is much worse than I and VSO had realized. And it’s much worse mainly because people consider these incidences normal and do not report them to the police and do not tell people in warning. If I had heard some of these stories before, perhaps I would have been more cautious and better prepared when I was robbed. In Kisumu, being a victim of crime is something people try to prevent but know it could easily happen to them anyway. That is not the way I want to live.
After work, I walk to the end of Tom Mboya Road, the road I live on, and meet Dawn, a fellow VSO volunteer, at the Tom Mboya Labor College. Dawn is African-Amerian, from Texas, and she’s serving as a volunteer in Kitui, a village southeast of Nairobi. Dawn is in Kisumu to attend a nurse’s conference this l week, but she’s not impressed with the conference content and is especially worn down by the long and fruitless speeches given today by important Kenyans. We walk to Ned’s house in Nyalenda to get her gear, then go to my house, where Dawn will stay through Saturday. She’s shocked to hear about the robbery and that I’ll be leaving Kisumu, but she understands.
posted by Cindi at 5:20 PM
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