Registration!

After the events of yesterday and the day before I was feeling a little strained. Then I got a timely e-mail from my friend who told me I should read Psalm 34. This verse stood out “The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (verse 18). So at the moment I am quite upbeat -- the pressure is relieved a little because although I realise our little organisation is working with brokenhearted people, we are not the only ones who are reaching out to them... one of the CSWs told us that she dreamt about Jesus the other night… so yes… we’re not the only ones reaching out here.

Tonight I can hear a chorus outside…. my night-time canine guardians are howling -- in unison -- and it seems that the dog next door is joining in as well! The dogs simultaneously terrify and comfort me. When I'm lying in bed and I hear growling and barking outside my window I'm not sure whether to feel scared or reassured! The rain is also pounding down. I feel kind of cosy inside.

Leaving aside the dogs the last few days have been somewhat interesting. Yesterday was the day we were to check on the progress of Fuhomi’s registration. We left for Nairobi very early in the morning, arriving at the charity registration office at 9 a.m. The government registration offices consist of a corridor of doors with a constant flow of people coming in and out and a seeming complete lack of official procedure. There is a bench outside the office doors which you sit on whilst you wait for your chance to be seen about your application. There is no queueing system… just a "jump in the office when somebody else comes out of it" system. So we waited for our chance and then jumped into the office. We were greeted by the sight of a small lady sat at a large desk behind what can only be described as sea of files. I'm not sure if it was disorganisation or an overload of work -- probably a bit of both but the amount of paper on show was rather intimidating. The lady told us to go to another office to find our file so we went next door to ask them to trace it... another lady who was wearing possibly the most bored expression I have seen in a long time, chewing gum and moving at the pace of a tortoise tells us that she will go to look for the file in another office. We return to our bench and wait. 10 minutes. Nothing. 20 minutes. Nothing. 30 minutes. Nothing. We head back to the office to ask the lady how her search is progressing. "I'm looking for it in another office" is the update. We wonder how this is possible, given that she hasn't stepped out of that office since we have been waiting on the bench. So we jump back into the office of the lady swimming in a sea of paperwork. She sends another woman to find our file. We head back to the bench to wait for another 45 minutes. The lady comes and goes, and comes and goes, and comes and goes. “Umeipata?” (have you found it?) I ask. “Bado” (not yet) is the repetitive reply. We have been waiting now for over two hours. So we jump back into paperwork lady’s office. She tells us that our file is in an office which is locked for today so there is nothing that can be done. We enquire as to what will happen to the progress of our registration application. Officially, our application is being processed and a decision will be made on our registration within two months after we have been vetted. However, unofficially, according to an internal memo which has been circulated around the Ministry, no new charitable associations are to be registered at the moment. Unless of course you can pay the Director a nice bribe of 40,000 kenya shillings (approximately £400) -- if you can stump up that kind of cash then you can make your application and get your certificate within the day! Very efficient service in some respects you could say….;) We are a Christian organisation -- so we’re not about to start building the foundations of our organisation on a bribe given to a corrupt official. Me thinks that would not be wise. I think the idea behind the system is to make people wait so long for their certificates that they lose hope and therefore, give up waiting and just pay the bribe. One person I know has been waiting for over a year for a certificate for her charity -- eventually the Ministry gave in and she is about to get it. So we are digging our heels in and preparing ourselves for a long, bumpy ride. At best we can get a letter from paperwork lady saying that our application is pending... it helps having a colleague who is from the same ethnic group and speaks her language.

The interns in the meantime have been carrying on with the seminars for the secondary school students -- over the past few days they have been covering all sorts of topics - looking at how to manage conflict, relationships, peer pressure, personality and adolescence… they've touched on some crucial issues... like prejudice and tribalism - it's been good to see students talk about these things - it's their holidays yet they turn up at 8:30 a.m. every day for these sessions - something which I think reflects well on the team.

I came back to my house yesterday evening to find a number of European flower farmers having a Kiswahili lesson in my lounge. The lady who I'm staying with had the bright idea of asking the farmers if they could give the CSWs who have been training in jewellery making (but will have no work for the next few months) jobs. As they finished their lesson and got into their cars we went to say hi -- and ask for jobs. One of the guys said he would talk to his boss and see what he could do. Flower farm work isn't ideal -- but it will pay the rent and stop them going to the streets until training and work with the NGO resumes and until Fuhomi has been able to look for a market for the products that they make…it’s a ray of hope- at least for now.