A town called Sewerage

This Christmas, school closes for 10 weeks in Kenya, an extremely long period. When school is open, children are given breakfast and lunch, but during the break, they go without. Those who have nothing return to the dump sites or beg. This has been another harsh Christmas; Covid’s claws haven’t withdrawn, and food prices continue to escalate.
Since the beginning of the school break, we have been ramping up our food hamper distributions to twice a week.
Blessedly, we’ve never had to say no to the growing number of community leaders who have asked for help. However, understandably, this has been a huge strain on our cash flow.
Sewerage.
The suburbs of Nakuru have some pretty interesting names, and there is usually a strange story behind how they got their names. For instance, we live in an area called Free Area, but there is nothing free about living here for the many families who rent a one—or two-room home in a crowded compound, where they live with multiple families who each have three or four children.
Earlier this week, we distributed food hampers to the elderly, people living with disabilities and single mothers in a suburb called Sewerage.
I kept asking how the suburb got its name and was always given the same answer.
Every year, Sewerage faces relentless floods caused by poor drainage systems and inadequate road networks, leaving residents fearful of displacement and the looming threat of disease outbreaks. Despite the annual recurrence of these challenges, the community feels abandoned by the government, which has yet to implement lasting solutions.
Their history further compounds the residents’ plight. Many who call Sewerage home are survivors of displacement from the 2007-2008 post-election violence, struggling to rebuild their lives amidst adversity. For them, every rainy season is a reminder of their vulnerability, as the floods bring not only water but also stagnant sewerage waste from homes and factories located on higher grounds.