By Eric Wamanji
Malnutrition, most Kenyans know, is a native of Kibera much as is flying toilets or uprooting railway lines. But life is changing here, and sights of feebly crying children will soon be replaced by the cluck-cluck of chicken and the cockcrows. Kibera is getting creative: it has embarked on a home-grown solution to beat poverty and malnutrition – poultry keeping.
And soon, your poultry products could easily be labelled ‘produce of Kibera’ as this ambitious development gains popularity by the day.
“I have seven chickens – one cock the rest are hens,” says Malasen Nasur, one of the new poultry keepers in Kampi village. “Just recently I had a lot of eggs; I collected about 66. I sold some and others I fed on my children,” she says with a smile.
This evening, we arrive in a cacophonic Kibera -the muezzin is drably calling for maghrib prayers, Nubian tribesmen are busy fingering their tasbihis and hawkers shouting for their wear. We meet Nasur in her tiny compound; she is splitting ugali to manageable chicken pick as some children gaze on as if this new chicken family is Martian.
“It started hatching yesterday, and this morning all the chicks were out,” says a cheery Nasur. Still she has other layers which supply her with eggs. “Two more hens are ready to sit on the eggs. It’s going to be a big brood!”
And Nasur’s is a celebrity hen here. It has attracted other group members who throng to admire and affirm their hope that the ambitious poultry project will fly. Hope –this is what drives these new farmers. And their conviction is that the face of Kibera, its ideological predisposition will change and usher in an era of thrive, plenty and progress. Such is a strong spirit that is lacking in precedence here.
Just like Nasur, there are some 300 residents doing poultry. This explains why a visitor to Kibera will be met by wooden cages leaning on the walls, next to the owners’ doors.
Select residents were given five hens and one cock to start breeding. The three-month old were distributed ‘to most vulnerable people. And now most of the hens have started laying eggs.
It required a lot of restraint and patience from the farmers for this project to come this far. It is refreshing to learn that no amount of temptation could lead these women to slaughter or selling any of the birds when the times proved tough.
Yet, this new development is a paradox of some sorts. By virtue of its sheer design – closely crocheted houses and a massive population – Kibera would have been the last place to boast of poultry. Not anymore.
“In fact, we want to be major suppliers of indigenous poultry products in Nairobi. It’s very possible,” says Meresa Anyango, another farmer in Mashimoni.
Every poultry keeper – a majority are women- is talking about good health for children and economic emancipation. They are hoping the birds will deliver their dreams.
And nothing goes to waste here. These women also plant vegetables, therefore, yellowing kale is fed on chicken while the guano from the cages is supplied to enrich the gardens.
According to Anyango, a meal of chicken is rare in Kibera. She is tired of feeding on chicken heads and lungs that hawkers peddle from hotels and poultry farms, she says. “Soon, I’ll be slaughtering my own chicken. For how long are we to live on crumbs?” she poses.
But the thought of poultry-keeping was unimaginabhe in Kibera. Most residents were cynical as to whether chic would thrive here.
“We were not sure it will work,” says Judith Mwende, another poultry keeper. “Initially we have been trying to keep chicken but they either die from diseases are stolen, or the night dogs prey on them. But this time round I can see it is working. Most people are now encouraged to venture into this business,” she says.
The mother of one is happy that her son’s health has improved courtesy of the eggs she collects.
“I thought it would be a good idea to ensure our good health first before start selling the eggs. We have been eating the eggs,” she says.
The chicken have to be retained in cages to curb theft, or prevent salivating dogs from attacking. However, this will be limiting to people like Nasir who envisions a bigger brood soon.
“We feed them on anything. Greens from our gardens, chaff from the posho-mill, or hotel leftovers. It’s a bit challenging but I guess we just need to be creative,” she says.
“Let me show you. I have many eggs,” she says then bend on her cage to fish out eggs careful placed on a basin cushioned with ash. “You see, we women of Kibera have decided to take control of our destiny. I know we are going to succeed,” she says.
Anyango, like many other women here is eying the festive seasons when the demand for poultry products is normally very high.
“I want to be a major distributor of eggs in Kibera. Eggs from indigenous chicken are premium here. People scramble when you go to the market and that is why I need to cash in on this demand,” she says. One indigenous egg in Kibera sells at Shs. 20 double the price of exotic ones. According to Anyango, during Christmas one indigenous chicken trades for as much as Shs. 1000. She hopes that she would be having something to sell then.
“We have targeted the most vulnerable members of this society,” says Vincent Ondora “We want widows, single mothers, and the disabled. This way the eggs and chicken will provide the much needed nutrition for the families,” he says.
His organization distributed cages to these new poultry keepers. It also offered some basic training on poultry keeping. We have partnered with other organisations like MSF to distribute the cages to some of the patients they treat in order to supplement on their diet. The Kenya Network for the Disabled (Kedan) members have also benefited for economic purposes.
Agnes Mutiso also sees herself as a future farmer. The mother of one has one desire: to start earning and improve the lot of her family. She is not as lucky though. Of the six birds she has only four having lost two to white castle. When she gets money, she says, she will have to restock.
“Indigenous chicken are very marketable in Kibera. There are times birds would cost as much as Sh. 1000. There is market,’ she says. This project has manifold benefits. Beyond the nutrition, it provides women here with something to look forward to. It is also supplements the economic activities here so that it removes the locals from the ravages of destitution.
But all is not smooth fly. Some landlords are reportedly opposed to chicken rearing. This way, people like Hellen Wangeci of Kibera Laini Saba cannot partake in this project.
“I tried but I was stopped. I was told that I need to pay Sh. 3000 rent for the cage. Now that is absurd. My house tent is Shs. 800. I think the landlords are afraid when they see the tenants are trying to succeed in life,” she says.
The clock strikes 6 O’clock, and all the cocks crow almost in unison like a choir. It is time for the Kibera chicken to go to the cage to roost.