Three Bright Kids and the Swamp of "Development"

Poverty is one of the most difficult things to get used. Having lived in Kenya for almost three years now, I'm surprised at how it still affects me.

On Saturday I was invited to a meeting of a half deaf, half hearing group. The leader of the organization invited along three deaf children from the area. They are two sisters and their brother. They had been attending Mumias School for the Deaf in Western Kenya. Now they were stuck at a hearing primary school in Donholm.

Why didn't they go back to Mumias? They couldn't pay their boarding fees.

Deaf schools are much fewer than hearing schools, and not many students can afford to travel to and from home every day. So, the schools offer boarding facilities at a rate of something like 10,000/- per year ($143).

This challenge has pushed parents and the ministry toward “mainstreaming”: putting deaf kids at nearby hearing schools. The same thing happens in America, often with interpreters. Whatever one thinks of “mainstreaming,” it's clear that for it to be remotely successful, the deaf kids should at least have access to what the teacher is saying through sign language. (Preferably Kenyan Sign Language, though at least a sign language.)

“Do the teachers at Donholm know sign language?” I ask them.

“Nothing,” they say.

I don't ask if they have interpreters. I know that they don't.

Looking at these three bright kids (Class four, eight and Form two; i.e. 4th grade, 8th grade, and a high school sophomore), I'm moved to try to help them. Maybe I can find a way for these kids to get back to Mumias. Raising around $500 shouldn't be too difficult.

But paying school fees doesn't change the system. One year from now these kids will still need assistance. Not to mention that there are hundreds of other kids (deaf and other "special needs" children) who don't attend school for the same reason.

Above all else, though, is this disturbing fact: there are a number of rich people here. People drive around in fancy cars, live in lavish houses, and send their kids to the top private schools. Just because Kenya is a poor country, it doesn't mean that there are no extremely wealthy people here.

How long will western countries “adopt” Africa's poor? If Americans and Europeans feel they have a social obligation to assist, how can they make sure that the communities that they're helping are not simply neglecting their own obligations?

Here's the point: social ills are best solved by the local societies themselves. American donors ship over the money, have little-to-no oversight as to how that money is used, and actually deter the local people from taking up their own social responsibilities. The government and the private sector need to join hands to address their massive community problems.

But, as a Kenyan once told me, “dollars are so sweet.” Not to mention that they often come with few strings attached. It's a lot easier to get an American to give out $20 than to get a Kenyan to give out the same amount in shillings (1,400/-).

So this is what pains me: getting the specific examples of people who need help, yet knowing that, as of now, I do not represent a long-term solution to this problem. And offering short-term solutions lowers the need for local communities to step up and address their own problems.