Postscript

It’s been a month since I came home. I’ve spent the time organising my thousands (literally) of photos from Kenya, catching up with everyone here and catching everyone up with my first experience of Africa.

My time at Bosco Boys (volunteer stint mark two for me) was certainly a positive experience all things considered and I have no regrets about going there. Looking back, I had my fair share of ups and downs and undoubtedly there were occasions of frustration, doubt, confusion, annoyance and dejection. Even so, on reflection every day was an educational experience for me.

The evening before I left I was invited to give a short ‘goodnight’ to the boys. Sensing the opportunity for pulling off a coup de langue, I decided to do it in KiSwahili. Partly due to the limitations on what I could actually say in that language, I chose to explain to them the reason I came: kwa sababu nilitaka kusoma – because I wanted to learn. I had worked as a mwalimu, I said, lakini ninyi ni walimu zangu – but you are my teachers.

I acknowledge how clichéd it sounds (I gave an inner groan even as I uttered it) but I did want to tell the boys directly that I hadn’t come to help, to save or to solve. Rather, I had come to listen, to see, to learn and to meet them in person. I feel I achieved that, at least.

To end, I thanked them and said I looked forward to seeing them again - nitarudi moja siku – to which sentiment everyone burst out laughing. It turned out I’d just said the equivalent of ‘I will return day one’. As every single person kindly pointed out that evening, I should have said siku moja (‘one day’). I didn’t mind though. It’s good to go out on a laugh!

I said at the start that I would try not to make any sweeping conclusions about the entire continent of Africa (or indeed of Kenya) just from my short time spent at Bosco Boys. In fact, while I was there, I was often asked, ‘How do you find Kenya?’ After joking, ‘Just above Tanzania,’ I would go on to admit: ‘I live at Bosco Boys, work at Bosco Boys and hang out at Bosco Boys, I don’t really know Kenya – but I know Bosco Boys very well!’

More than that, though, going to Kenya has had an impact on how I view Africa as a whole. It feels more real to me now: less distant, less different, less impenetrable. And I can’t wait to go back!

Winding down

That Sunday with the street kids in situ at Kariua was the beginning of the end for my time at Bosco Boys. The following week was the last week of term and the students had exams. Showing a surprising demonstration of organisation, Gary and I managed to finish all the computer tests by Tuesday (having started the previous Thursday) and so I was able to fully enjoy my final week and start preparing for James’ arrival on the Friday.

James arrived in the evening after a closing-down ceremony for the school had taken place during the day. Bosco Boys was still very much open for the boarders though and it was with happy nostalgia when James was introduced to everyone at mass on Saturday morning, just as I had been three months previously.

The following day, the vast majority of the boarders went home. Bosco Boys isn’t an orphanage and almost all of the boys have family somewhere in Kenya with whom they can (and are encouraged to) spend the holidays.

So it was a much quieter Bosco Boys that James, Gary and I said goodbye to on Monday morning as we began our holiday. Our trip took the three of us to Isiolo, Wamba and Samburu National Park and James and I continued on to Lake Nakuru, Lake Naivasha and the stunning Masai Mara. We returned to Bosco Boys, had a party thrown for us at St Vincent Maisha Bora centre, said our final thank yous and goodbyes and, on Palm Sunday, headed for the airport.