The level of unemployment and poverty in Kenyan slums is reaching frightening heights as millions of youths find it hard to cope with the high standards of living. Two weeks ago I went for my routine hair cut at a barber’s place in Imara Daima. It was around six in the evening and loud reggae music blasted the air as cheap alcohol and eatery joints all competed to attract some revelers. The on-going light showers and the flickering light along the dilapidated path leading to the highly poverty stricken Kwa Reuben slum made it difficult to access the barber’s corrugated mabati shanty located next to a sewer line.
A few youths sat at the entrance of the barber’s mabati structure all chewing veve in desperation. As usual I wanted to connect with them and had to adopt some slang commonly used by these youths. “Mi rastaman come in peace. Long live Emperor Selassie.” I said in a rather awkward accent as I reached my fist for a “gotta” greeting. As usual the boys acknowledged greeting without giving any facial contact partly because they wished to hide their pain, anger or frustration from strangers.