We've all heard the one about the Nigerian royalty who needs help getting his funds out of the country. It seems that his brothers all live in Nairobi. During my first hour in touring Nairobi, I had no less than 4 offers to help out some very deserving people. It probably didn't help that I was white, dressed oddly (for Kenya at least,) and didn't know where I was going. The guy who caught up with me on the first block of my walk was astounded to hear that I was from Colorado. It seems he had just been admitted to
CSU's Vet School and would attend there starting in the fall. Since I was a professor, couldn't I just share a coffee with him and tell him a bit about the school. In my dazed state, and with his persistence, the coffee started to sound pretty good. It only took him about 5 minutes to share his plight with me. It seems that poor guy was from somewhere else (Nigeria maybe?) and needed to leave Kenya today before his visa expired. All he and his two buddies needed was $350 each for passage on a ship to the US - anything I could spare would be a big help. Feeling generous (this would change later...) I paid for the coffee for both of us and left. I managed to make it about 2 blocks before the next young man joined me on my walk. We chatted a bit - seems he had a Colorado connection too as there were students from my home state at university with him in Nairobi. He was very excited because he was working today with a number of students suffering from polio. He wondered how
prevalent polio was in Colorado. He offered to walk with me to the next turn I would need to take to the National Museum - my destination. As he was saying goodbye, he told me about a great opportunity he had for me to help buy wheel chairs for polio victims. He showed me the list of amounts and homes of the other contributors he had canvased today. Since he had given me such a great tour of the University of Nairobi, I donated $5 to his cause - with him pushing for $10. Not sure just where the money went, but it was entertaining. Less than half a block later another pedestrian joined my side. He was just heading out to meet up with a friend, but he had lots of time and could walk with me wherever I wanted to go. I apologized, turned around, and went back the direction from which I came - no National Museum today! About 4 blocks later another man joined my walk and began telling me the sad story of his life and his woes. This time I just took off. I continued my walking tour of the city taking in the convention center and Parliament buildings. I ambled across the street to a nice city park with a lake. There I was approached by a well dressed man who also wanted to chat. He told me that he had seen me talking over coffee with a man earlier that morning. He said that this was a "very bad" man and that he had been arrested. He wondered if I could just go with him to talk for a bit.
Hmmmm.... I politely declined and walked away. While I have been hit up for scams many times, I have never seen it done so consistently, persistently, and over the extended period I saw here. I was especially struck by the "two part" scam - being approached later in the day after fending off a "first attack." My frustration had little to with being the object of such schemes. My frustration instead stemmed from my need to become cynical and removed from contact with others in a new country. These experiences had robbed me of a vital and important part of my travel experience. Later that evening I was approached in my hotel by a staff member who enquired about my trip. My immediate reaction was to hold back and look for the "angle." I'm happy to say that I quickly recognized the change in context - from the wild, unwashed masses on the streets of Nairobi to the refined and comfortable surrounding of the United Kenya Club - and had a pleasant and rewarding conversation. I guess context does matter.
I heard this phase far too often in Kenya. I first noticed it as part of the “cons” on the streets of Nairobi. But I continued to see it in rural villages, on chance meetings, and in most social situations. One student in the Teret Secondary School asked this explicit question in front of two hundred of his peers. I struggled to determine if this was just a cultural norm, or if it was the result of too many years of aid – or too much desperation. Hence I was both surprised and relieved to hear the immediate and emphatic reply to this question by our Kenyan intern Isaac. Isaac immediately pointed out that help only comes to those who work hard – and then they don’t need to ask for it. He told his own story of being raised by a single mom and helping to support his siblings – all while paying his own way through college. His was an inspirational presentation to a group of students hungry to listen. I hope that they were inspired by his closing message – “No student who earns straight A grades is still living in their village.” Effort, determination, and initiative find a way.
