I feel like living in
I’ve never been mugged, I don’t think I’ve ever been touched, I’ve never been accosted, but yet leaving my house and doing errands and walking down the street takes immense amounts of emotional energy. I get stared at all the time. I live in a wealthy neighborhood that is crawling with white people, but still every Kenyan I pass in my car or while walking stares at me as if I am two headed beast. No second head, it’s just blonde. In the village you greet everyone you pass, but
I have a general rule of not giving to beggars. Because I think it just teaches people to beg. Maybe you read this and you judge me, and say but they are so poor. But there are others who are living here who are not poor. It can be done. It’s not as simple as that when you get here. When you see the blind man being led through traffic by the child with an empty cup, what do you do? What can a blind man do in a nation that starves its own people?
And in this you can see the summation of my frustration with
You can’t make people work. They have to want to and they have to see the benefit of hard work. I didn’t come over here thinking that my culture was superior and it isn’t, but we do have areas in our culture that have brought our success. Some would say it’s because the white man has colonized and pillaged, and there is truth to that. But we do work hard, there are plenty of Americans of every color that are where they are not because they used someone else, but because they showed up every day to work or class and did the work that was required of them, and then did some more. There are Kenyans with strong work ethics, and as always the truth is somewhere in the middle and with people there are hardly ever absolutes, and there are plenty of Kenyans with no work ethic at all. You have more than me, so why don’t you just give it to me?
I don’t know if it’s better to have something, tasted it and then have it taken away or if it’s better to never have it at all, daydream about it and not know what it’s really like?