Allys and I have recently moved to an area of Nairobi called South B. South B is a lower-middle class neighbourhood and whilst we haven't been here very long we already feel at home as everyone is very friendly and mzungus don't seem to attract too much attention. The markets have everything we need and ensuring that we need never go to the local supermarket chain (except to buy chocolate). The pubs are friendly and cheap, and several of them are located in, what is by day, a mechanics' workshop, and only slightly marred by the smell of drunk-man's-urine that emanates from the toilets.
As with most neighbourhoods in Nairobi, you can't go too far without finding a slum. The one nearest ours is less than a mile away and most people who run the market stalls along our streets live there. The slums are a nightmare in terms of health and saftey: no running water, open fires and homes built inches apart all made of high flammable material.
And on Monday, a gas cylinder exploded in the slum starting a fire, which, fanned by the recent high winds and dry weather, engulfed the slum killing eight, including two children, and leaving an estimated 15,000 people homeless (it's difficult to tell as no one ever really knows how many people live in slums). The black column of smoke towered over the neighbourhood, although until I heard the news I just thought it was another rubbish dump being burned (a common sight as there is no real mechanism for rubbish disposal here).
Today, I met with another volunteer who lived in the area and we went to the slum to search for a friend of his who lived there. The rebuilding of the slums was already taking place at terrific pace, I could not ascertain who was paying for the rebuilding. Most of the homes would have been rented and I am sure the landlords would be keen to rebuild as soon as possible to prevent their tenants from moving to other areas.
The government, it seems, is providing some food and water for those made homeless but no temporary shelter. The MP for the area, Gideon Mbuvi, known to the locals as Sonko (meaning 'rich man' in Sheng. Keen readers of the BBC News website may have heard of Sonko recently:
he was thrown out of parliament for wearing earrings) has been in the affected area for the last two days to support the rebuilding and helping those made homeless. As this was the day after the explosion in his constituency he would have come straight from the slums to parliament before being ejected. [It is worth noting that the BBC News website carried the story of an MP being thrown out of parliament but not of a devastating fire that made 15,000 people homeless; and they say the BBC is dumbing down?!]
We met a man standing in the remains of his home, there was nothing left but a concrete floor and the tin that used to be his roof. For a man who had lost everything he was very composed, and he was more eager to talk to us about his savings cooperative group than anything else, despite the fact that he and his family we sleeping on the concrete floor under the stars.
I was surprised (although on reflection I should not have been) how little tragedy I saw among the devastation. I did not see wailing or the gnashing of teeth but the stoic rebuilding of a community. The people who lived there had lost what little they had but were ready to go and get it back again. It's typical of Kenya and Kenyans, who often seem to have enormous reserves of positivity and faith (and Faith too) in the face of huge challenges. But then, what option do they have other than to pick themselves up and get on with it?
