One afternoon, during a break between a workshop in Ngong and another in Kawangware, I went along with Ibrahim Nehme, writer in residence on the Darajart project, and Elisa Simoncelli, filmmaker and Amani volunteer, to Mother House, one of the first-reception homes for children living on the street, run by Koinonia Community and Amani. There we met educators Jane Wanjiru and Mary Osinde (hereafter JW and MO), who support Cherimus in the artistic workshops of Carnival! Nairobi. They told us about their relationship with the "bases" — the street communities where the children and young people involved in the project live. The project began in February and will make its debut on 14 April with a parade through the streets of the Riruta-Satellite neighbourhood.

Read all the articles on the Carnival! Nairobi project

Mary, what is your perspective on the workshops we are doing with the young people living on the street?
MO: This project is very positive because it gives street children the opportunity to be creative, to share their ideas and even… to laugh! We have seen some of the young people helping each other with drawing and self-expression. I can say that the drawings are very useful to us because they allow us to imagine what these young people would like to be in the future. This could help us especially in the rehabilitation process for some of the children. Part of this work is useful in view of 12 April, the International Day for Street Children, since some organisations might take inspiration from Carnival! Nairobi and perhaps replicate it. It is good that an exchange of best practices takes place between organisations and institutions.

What does it mean to be a street educator?
MO: When we go out onto the street we meet these young people. We build a bond over a period of three months; they get to know our names, we trace the homes they have run away from so we can get to know their families before they enter our centres. In the meantime we spend time with them, we do activities, breakfast and lunch. They share their thoughts and open up to us; sometimes they explain why they left home and ended up on the street.

JW: We go mainly to the outskirts of Nairobi. On the street we talk with the young people and try to contact their families. We try to involve them in many activities: we play football, and we normally do the same with girls. We also organise a tournament for street children in which we involve the different bases, to bring them together. The bases are not all the same, they don't do the same things, and sometimes the dynamics differ. Through this tournament the bases get to know and recognise each other, and so they are able to help one another. Last year there was a group of girls who loved football and couldn't wait to play. They even had a coach: near the base there is a pitch where they can play. For them it was thrilling! It was wonderful to involve all those bases because they had never been in contact with each other for so long. Now when someone moves from one base to another — say from Ngong to Kawangware — you already know each other, and it feels as though the street family is one.

How do you choose the young people who enter the rehabilitation centres?
MO: The selection is for children between 6 and 15 years old: in the various bases there are some younger children, and age is the only criterion. Before beginning the rehabilitation process we identify their families; when we are unable to do so, we turn to social services.

What do you expect from this carnival?
MO: I try to imagine how they will carry these large floats and how they will wear these masks, because in Kenya no one has ever seen anything like it. People will say: "Hey, what are these people dressed as?" — knowing Kenyans, they'll think we're mad, but we know what we're doing.

How many bases does Koinonia Community work with?
JW: There are many, but I can name a few: we have Kawangware and Sokomjinga, Strong boys, we have Vancouver and Ngong. In the city there are many: we work mostly with Central park, CBD, Grogon, Mlango, and also Eastleigh, Mtindwa, Muturwa, Gikomba.

How are the names of the bases chosen?
JW: I think they choose their names based on what they feel they belong to — there is a sense of attachment to something: if they identify with Arsenal (the English football club, ed.) they will probably take that name. Most of the time they identify with something they believe in or love. Names are chosen through conversation; maybe a name comes up and someone says: "We could call ourselves that," and so on. Just like the Strong boys, who feel strong, even if in reality they might appear weak (laughs, ed.).

In the bases most of the young people are male — is it difficult for you to do this work as a woman?
JW: When I go to a base, at first I don't sit with them. I just talk and say: "I am a sister to you," so we can talk about what is happening to them. When they see this approach they feel comfortable to the point that if you have a problem they try to help you, because they know you well. When there are activities you can join in and they like that. They tell us: "You can do this with us too, come on! Let's go!", and so you feel safe.

At the Mtindwa base there are some girls, together with their children. Why do we only find boys when we arrive in the morning?
JW: I think that most of the time, especially in urban areas, the girls are simply sleeping somewhere in the morning. They are there, it's just that they go elsewhere within the same area — they hide and rest.

What are your expectations for the carnival?
JW: We have many activities, but this one is new. Some of the young people ask us: "Why are you asking us to draw?" When they take part they draw interesting things; many of them are talented — you can see that they have never had the opportunity to bring certain things out. I am eager to see the carnival, I know it will be engaging! It is exciting — for us it is the first time.

During one of the activities we made flags — how did it go in your view?
JW: At first we drew a corrugated iron roof — it was me and Victor, who is about 13 years old — then we had to cut shapes from the fabric and I thought: "I wonder how this works…", but then we managed it, we cut the fabric in a zigzag and it worked well.

Victor was the happiest boy in the world at that moment.
JW: Yes, and he can't wait for tomorrow!

How are the bases organised? We have gathered that they all have leaders, someone the group can look to. How does this kind of society work — are there rules?
JW: I think these young people, girls and boys, live as though they were a family. In a family system there is a head, like a father or a mother. And the young people follow this figure: if the leader tells them to do something, they will all follow. For example, young people on the streets are often subject to addiction, and sometimes when we speak with them they are told to put the drugs away — everyone does so because they listen. That is a rule they follow. Another is that they must be there for one another: if you have something you must share it with the others; if one of them is beaten, the others will fight to defend them. This is the most beautiful thing: they live like a family.

Is the leader the oldest, or are there other criteria?
JW: In most cases it's the oldest, but another element of leadership is how long someone has been at the base. Some people stay for a week and then leave, others stay for a month, and others remain at the same base for years.

Do you try to build a relationship with the leader to gain access to the base?
MO: Yes, the leaders are the ones who can help you access the base. They're also the ones who can protect you if something happens.

What has been the biggest challenge you've had to face?
MO: When I started it was a big challenge because I'm a woman. Many people on the street use drugs and at first you're a little afraid of them, but after two or three days they were already very friendly. It's essential to introduce yourself because there are people who approach them, beat them, slap them — even the police. But if they know who you are, you're safe.

Since you started, how has the situation changed? Are there fewer young people on the streets?
MO: Yes, speaking for this part of the city (Dagoretti, Kawangware, ed.), the numbers are going down. But going further into the centre there are still a lot of them, because the moment you bring one back, others arrive. Now the government is also beginning to take care of their protection. Perhaps in five years' time we'll have fewer children on the streets.

Are there children who have no family? If so, how does the work with them function?
MO: There are some children who have no parents, but even in that case we turn to a relative. Nobody is born without a father and a mother — we routinely trace families and even if they're very far away, we reach them.

During the art workshops we felt welcome, we received respect and affection. But what is the perception of other people who don't live on the streets? We know that forms of discrimination against them exist. At one point there was a girl from the neighbourhood who mocked them, calling them "animals". Do you think the carnival could challenge this perception?
MO: People consider these young people thieves; they fear they might harm them. Especially people from higher social classes judge them for how they dress, because they're dirty, they wonder what they eat. We're looking forward to the carnival because at that moment we'll be there with them, and the hope is that people will be able to look at them with different eyes. Many times people have a negative perception of us too: they ask, "How can you do this work?" The carnival is a tool for getting the community to communicate with the young people.

We'll close this conversation by recalling a drawing made in Kawangware. It was by Mavo — he drew a beautiful hardware shop. On one side there was a landscape, a sunrise. Or perhaps a sunset. Next to it he had written "Land of horror". So we asked him why he'd written that phrase, and he replied that they call the police "horror" because sometimes the officers come and beat them for no reason, as if they had no value at all. How can the carnival and other initiatives such as the International Day for Street Children help on a political level?
JW: I think this carnival, this celebration, where people will see us all together, will raise questions, and I think our answer will be to make it understood that these people matter, that they are human beings like everyone else and it is only because of certain problems that they ended up on the streets. I believe most people think they simply ran away from home, whereas there are many factors that drive a young person to make that choice. It's important to try to understand what the reasons are before forming an opinion. Even in the case of the police officers, the reason they behave that way is that they think they're thieves and that, in some cases, they can be associated with criminals and other situations that society does not accept.

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