Why Jericho Estate is still close to my heart

 ‘Jeri’ was the only place one found shops and markets for those who moved to Buru 2 in the ‘70s. Photo: Courtesy

I told you how a week ago my friend Nicholas Ambala invited me to go watch a football match featuring Jericho All Stars where he’s the patron.

The last time I was in Jericho was around 20 years ago and my perception of the place was of the same Jericho Estate that I knew years ago.

‘Jeri’ is part of the history of those who grew up in Buru Phase 2 and Phase 3. Indeed, ‘Jeri’ was the only place one found shops and markets for those who moved to Buru 2 in the ‘70s. ‘Jeri’ is still as organized as it was then largely due to the orderly manner the Colonial City Council organized city estates. This doesn’t, however, explain how and why Jericho Estate spawned ‘hardcore’ characters who often bullied ma-babi from Buru, the new softies in town! You never told anyone you got bullied to and from Jericho market. And unlike the new generation of softies, during our time, one had to be a street hustler, know the safest routes home and avoid those where trouble brewed.

It is hard imagining how things have failed, yet they worked like clockwork back in the day.

Take healthcare. In the ‘70s, ‘80s and early ‘90s — it was normal for Eastlanders to frequent City Council health centers, dispensaries and clinics for treatment. Even City Council maternity hospitals produced great children like Dr. Evans Kidero and Uhuru Kenyatta. Kenyatta National Hospital was for serious surgeries, casualty cases and fire victims who needed blood donations. News that someone had been admitted to Kenyatta saw a cloud of sorrow engulf the entire estate.

 So, for all residents of Buru Phase 2, their clinic was the Jericho Health clinic which was functional and efficient, with clinical officers, nurses and Orthopedic technicians. Everyone had a medical card with your name, the estate you came from and house number. It was safely kept like an ID card. We moved from Jericho Health clinic when City Council opened another facility in the nearby Umoja Estate. I can still remember the stone benches at the waiting room and the voice of one no nonsense lady nurse who shouted your name if you were next in line.

Health aside, Jericho Catholic Church was where most of us were baptized and received first communion. I still have my baptism card which was also kept as safe as the medical and national ID cards.  Missionaries from Maryknoll Fathers controlled catholic churches in the region, and it was not until a Catholic church was built in Buru Phase I did we   decamp from Jericho Catholic Church.

Away from religion was sports, and all big sports facilities were in Jericho Estate. I was pleasantly surprised when I visited to find that what we called Owanjo Soo has been modernized with an artificial turf to boot. I was told this was done by CDF money. One only needed to have grown up around Jericho to know the important role soccer played in the life of young boys and girls there.   There were inter-estate competitions and without the soccer, volleyball and netball fields crime would have been taken to another level. From the number of fans who came to watch Jericho All Stars means sports is still a big part of life in Jericho.

Then there was Jericho Market, which was where one bought fresh vegetables, groceries besides all manner of tailoring shops that gave birth to entrepreneurs of all shades. The City Council of Nairobi controlled hawking and for those of us who lived in Buru, it meant observing the ritual of going to Jericho Market twice or thrice a week.  I even remember that during the breakdance craze, we used to go to the market to get materials to make bow ties!

 Though we fought many estate wars, I now appreciate Jericho which is as close to my heart as Buru Buru Phase 2.  But ‘Jeri’ houses need a fresh coat of paint, if you ask me!

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@AineaOjiambo