A Checkered Past

When I first learned to sew as a child I practiced on pieces of gingham checked fabric. The lines of the checks served as a guide to help me learn to sew in a straight line. There was not a lot of variety back then, but every fabric store carried a couple dozen bolts or so in primary and secondary colors. I have not really thought about that fabric in a long time and you are probably wondering why in the world gingham checked fabric is on my mind while I am in Kenya. I should be talking about the bold and vibrant colors that are so often woven into the fabrics we associate with Africa. It truly is not a result of the hallucinating side effects from the malaria meds that has me thinking about tiny checks.

We went into to town yesterday to procure some supplies for a some of our clients that would allow them to return to school on Monday. It is amazing how fast the prices increase if a Mzungu (white person) walks into the store. The store front was about 12’ wide by 24’ deep with at least 12 foot ceilings. The walls of the entire shop were lined with shelves from the top to the bottom that were filled with perfectly pressed stacks of school uniforms. It appeared that one would have to be sold in order before another could possibly be added to the shelves. At the back of the store a man stood at a high counter moving the white chalk in his hand deftly across solid navy cotton fabric outlining a repeating pattern of trouser legs and waistbands as the hum of old sewing machines escaped from the curtain behind him.

The shelves on the left side of the store were filled trousers, shorts, sweaters, ties and shirts for school boys of all sizes. The right side filled with blouses, skirts, tunics and sweaters for girls. Hundreds upon hundreds of shirts, blouses and dresses were made of gingham making the wall dizzying to even glance at. In addition to the traditional colors I remember from my youth, there were colors of as varied as the 64 count box of crayons every kid craves.

Having a school uniform is essential. Students are not allowed to attend school if they do not have a uniform in good condition to wear. Depending on the school, and what pieces are required, a single school uniform runs from about a 1000 – 1500 Kshillings a piece (roughly $15 - $22 US) private schools may run slightly more. Often this is an expense many families can not afford as the majority of Kenya families are striving to survive on less than one dollar a day. Uniforms for five children (which would not be uncommon in a family) would cost these families one third of their yearly income….not to mention that school fees still have to be paid as well.

Earlier in the day a student had came into the office to show us the most recent report they had received from school. The marks were not good and the teachers had dotted the right side with comments. Needs to try harder, needs to improve, needs more effort, needs to apply themselves (another haunting reminder of my own youth). Knowing that the office serves some of the most vulnerable children, I can’t help but wonder how does a child apply themselves when they have so little food to sustain them and such limited resources available in all areas of their lives? I wondered how the marks could be a true reflection of this young Kenyan who stood before me speaking and reading English very fluently. On a good note we were able to provide the services so that this student could return to school next week in their gingham checked uniform. As we returned from town, we once again ran into a sea of gingham as the car rounded the corner to park behind the office. A large group of form (high school) students had gathered by a rod iron gate looking very solemn. They were waiting for the mortuary to release the body of one of their classmates so they could accompany it home. They stood in tribute for a classmate whose time in the checkered uniform has past.


Post Note: Some have you have wondered when/if I am going to post pictures of what I am seeing in Africa. I do not want to breech the confidentially of the clients we serve by posting their pictures on the internet. That is also the reason that specifics about the clients I write about in these entries are not provided and/or have been altered slightly to protect the identities of the families. However, the situations I have shared do represent simular situations that thousands of families in Kenya face on a regular basis.