Today I managed to cover both ends of the lifestyle spectrum here in Kenya...

The day began by meeting Jane, a fantastic lady who knew exactly what I was looking for on my trip - a real close-up insight into Kenyan life. She told me about the street children from Korogosho who endure a daily struggle against alcoholism and drug addiction. From meeting Jane I told Tony (my driver and 'tour guide') to take me to where the young people in Nairobi hang out when they want to be creative; I wondered if there was a place where they met to discuss ideas or even just to meet their friends. He took me to the Go-Down centre which can only be described as a hub of creativity; a playground for artists to come together to paint, sculpt and sew - with pieces ranging from graffiti murals of Kiberan street children to sculptures of women begging for food.

As we made our way through the various workshops I came across Adam, a former solvent abuser who is now teaching ballet and contemporary dance in the Go-Down centre. He trains up kids from the streets, many themselves falling into the traps of drug and alcohol abuse. It was amazing to see these young men, with an average age of 19, pirouetting and gliding across the room (which was essentially an abandoned warehouse with some MDF on the floor).

They put Billy Elliot to shame as Adam got them to perform a breathtaking dance routine which he choreographed himself, followed by a display of gymnastics that can only be described as... Well, I’ll let the pictures answer that one.

Tony got a call to confirm that someone he had spoken to earlier was now ready to be interviewed; he was 25 year old Sonko, who lived by the Ugandan Railway Line which cuts through Nairobi. He told me about his life; that his parents had died when he was 13, and that to quell the pain he had turned to drugs, particularly 'bhang' and glue sniffing.

Tony introduced me to a few of Sonko’s friends living on the railway line; they were mostly alcohol and solvent abusers with similar stories of woe and strife.

Some were married, some turned to crime, with one 24 year old man telling me that he was a drug dealer and that god 'didn’t mind', even when he sold drugs to kids as young as 15; because he prayed everyday and therefore god had to love him no matter what... I asked if he would take us to his house and to where he goes to get high with his friends - but I was warned it was too risky and there was a high chance I could be mugged or even killed.

So we pressed on.

Whilst driving through the streets of Soko Mjinga (‘Fool’s Market’ in Swahili), I was encouraged by Tony not to film. He said it was possible I could be pulled from the car and mugged; so instead I looked around me as many young people seemed to be clutching bottles of solvents which they held so firmly to their noses. They drifted down the middle of the road, just managing to avoid the cars speeding past. The streets were littered with huge piles of human waste, whilst mere feet away desperate locals were trying to sell fruit and veg to make their daily bread. It was a desperately impoverished area and I could see why they wouldn’t want a Westerner pointing his camera in their faces.

'The group's motto is “to ignore the youth is to ignore the nation”...'

After this, Tony wanted to wash his car which now had half the dirt of Soko Mjinga on it. We stopped at the ‘Dagoretti Youth Welfare Organisation’ which takes young criminals and drug addicts off the street, with ages ranging from 19-28 working in the organisation’s car wash. The aim, according to the director Charlie, is to teach them the importance of having a job and a steady wage whilst keeping them off the streets.

The group's motto is “to ignore the youth is to ignore the nation”, and with those profound words still fresh in my mind I was introduced to the boys of the group who were proud to show off their work, and even let me help wash the car. They have a football team in the local league, The Gladiators, who promised me a game on for the following Saturday - all the more reason to stick around and get my shooting boots on. 

As the day drew to a close I asked Tony to take me to where the people with money to burn go. We pulled into the Nadamarket Shopping Centre and strolled through the air-conditioned palace of consumerism, with its marble floors and shops stocking the finest clothes and jewellery. I found it hard to believe that about an hour ago I had been wading through the mud of Soko Mjinga with glue sniffers and muggers. As I peered through the various shop windows stocking all your favourite brands - Nike, Adidas, Gucci, Burberry, Sony, Samsung etc - I wondered how many Kenyans could realistically afford these things.

As we exited, passing the finest restaurants and bars serving steaks and cocktails with little umbrellas, I noticed a group of young Kenyans no older than 18/19 talking on mobile phones and kitted out in the glossy high-market clothes. Were they really aware of the plights of their countrymen in Soko Mjinga or Kibera. Probably not.

I guess some things aren’t lost in translation after all.

Words and photos: James Prosho. Written whilst listening to Jack Johnson and Black Flag, waiting for reports on grounded flights (due to volcanic ash disruption), hoping I can get home.