Doing bussiness in Eldoret

(A Kenyan secondhand market, picture from the internet)

After days of "looking like a walkin' talkin' tomato" in the scorching sun of Eldoret, I decided it was time to take action. I went to the local supermarket for a sunscreen. I made my way to the cashier, only to find that this teeny-tiny bottle containing 200ml of Nivea sunscreen costed no less than HALF what Carol and I pay in rent per month! I was outraged. "How do these people expect ordinary Kenyans to afford that??". But then, wait, Kenyans obviously don't use sunscreen. The only ones who buy that stuff are the white expats. Suddenly it all made sense.

- These people are always looking for a way to charge more money from us foreigners, I thought grumpily to myself.

(One of these costs half a monthly houserent in this upside-down country, picture from the internet)

In order to spare as much as possible of this very expensive sunscreen, I decided to go to the local market to get a few second-hand long-sleeved tops. As Carol and I were walking to the market, I asked her:

- So where do these masses of second-hand clothing come from?
- What? You don't know? replied Carol.
-They come from you guys! Donations from the West.

(This is where the clothes you donate end up, picture taken from the internet)

The proof appeared soon after: a Dale Norway Lusekofte, being sold at the market in Eldoret. A state of the art piece of traditional Norwegian clothing, usually sold at around 250 dollars, going for the price of one dollar. Of course we had to buy that! So, friends back in Norway: if you recently donated a black and white Lusekofte to goodwill, I might be wearing it right now.

(These are sold for 100KSH, 1 dollar or 7 NOK at the market, picture taken from the internet)

Later that day I was coming back from the market. I alighted from the Matatu and started walking towards our home. Suddenly I heard someone shouting:

- Hey, mzungu! Come say hi to us!

I went over to talk to the 4 or 5 women that had called.

- We're selling mukimo, kikuyu food, they said and laughed.
- Would you like some?

Unusually sceptical as I was this day, I wondered if they were looking for a way of ripping off this mzungu.

- How much is it? I asked.
- What do you mean how much? they replied.
- It's a gift! Welcome to Kamukunji!

(Mukimo: like mashed potatoes only green! Picture taken from the internet)

God certainly knows how to put me in my place! Here I had been, grumpy and suspicious of Kenyans who, I thought, only wanted to get as much money from me as possible. How my mind even got there, don't ask. But that's what I love about God: whenever my paradigms, values or ideas about people start going off track, He knows just how to pull me back to His values, His paradigms and His love for His people!

God is great, and to the people of Kamukunji: I love you!!