Words of Encouragement and Confidence on CoKF Retreat

"Don't complain about not having warm shoes—There are people who lack feet.

Before you complain about having only one meal a day, think of all those people who go days without food.”

George, a teacher at Red Rose, spoke to the group of fifteen high-school adolescents on a drizzly, cold afternoon at the CoKF retreat. I listened to these words cozied up in my chair, hot chocolate in hand and contemplated his phrase. Here, George was talking to kids from the largest slum in Kenya, who donned thin sweaters and sandals on a 50 degree day, kids who are in a program where difficult home situations are a prerequisite for scholarship.

“Your situation at home is difficult. You might be finding school a refuge. But I have learned not to complain. Not to complain at all,” he continued.

These words set a positive, encouraging undertone to students and facilitators alike as we embarked on our leadership weekend. For the next two days, we played games, had group discussions, went on walks, listened to empowerment presentations, had an HIV/AIDS awareness discussion, “took a stand” in debate exercises, fumbled through improv activities and—the most popular of all—sang and played charades around a raging campfire.

Our role as facilitators was to implement our detailed and hefty schedule, think on our feet for new activities, but beyond that was to create an atmosphere of encouragement, belonging and even challenge for these students. In our constant engagement with these good-natured and motivated students, we also learned a great deal.

One of the weekend’s highlights was the Take a Stand activity, where students must form an opinion about an issue and defend it. After the question, “Do the environment and economy conflict with each other?” students gave examples on how yes—trees in the Mau forest, a place undergoing serious environmental debate, could be used to build houses while others refuted that no—environmental policies that are well implemented, such as forest conservation, could in fact help the Kenyan economy.

A political discussion then ensued in our small group discussion, one that dove into the heart of Kenya’s stagnant political situation and, for these students, a despairingly slow slum upgrading process. “MPs serve personal desires until election time when they come, give money to children who split it amongst themselves and make promises to construct roads. They promise, but never construct,” say two of the female students. Even what is built may end up in the hands of other more wealthy Kenyans. “Right outside Kibera, high rises were built. Some people who move in are from Kibera, but a majority are not, says Joseph, age 15.

The cycle of broken promises is one reason that Joseph wants to become a Chief Justice and why Lowry, 16, wants to become a lawyer. Others, like Kelvin, candidly state that they will stay out of politics for fear that despite the best of intentions, money squandering is inevitable.

Apart from these discussions, the energy and creativity of the group was contagious. During one skit, Fred, a wide-eyed fourteen-year-old, played the role of stern older brother to Lowry, a defiant girl who’d found a cool group of friends with whom to go clubbing instead of doing her physics homework. As Fred pointed his finger up at Lowry to scold her “This is not the time for fun!” the group erupted in laughter. In another skit demonstrating the dangers of peer pressure, Agripina and Linet hook up innocent Vane with a trouble-maker gangster boys Hassan, Atelah and Kelvin, telling her that with a boyfriend, she’ll be more able to get her hair done professionally, buy nicer clothes and wear closed-toed shoes. Through humor and parody, these skits prominently displayed the issues that Kenyan adolescents face—the pressure to drink alcohol, go clubbing or, for girls, to acquire a ‘sugar-daddy’ to help pay their school fees.

Saturday night’s bonfire was impressive. The sheer size of the fire was enough to get all the high-schoolers running down the hill to circle around it and sing “Jambo,” a welcoming song for foreigners. It was clear as the high-schoolers initiated games as “Rabbit,” a psychology game analogous to a group version of “rock, paper, scissors,” and started up talks on language and religion in our respective countries that we’d all found a place of comfort and confidence.