Hello! Can You Hear Me Now?

On my third trip to Ilkiloret (we went late to avoid the goat jam), I only had three students, but I did have some other work to do.

Mainly, I needed to meet Pastor Johnson to talk about the meeting I’d had with the fundi (contractor) the day before in Ngong. A classroom cum community center is being built by a NGO that is phasing out their partnership with Wezesha By Grace. The project has been problematic because GUW did not have the money to complete the project when they started it last year. So we are hopefully starting again, but with a new fundi hand-picked by the community.

Said fundi greatly reduced the amount of cement that the first fundi had said was necessary, so we were a bit concerned. Pastor Johnson met me after class and we decided to call the fundi. He and I piled on Njenga’s motorcycle and bumped off across the way to where the local shop is in search of the cell phone network, which miraculously appears… a bit like manna from heaven…just in certain spots.

Along the way we run into Mama Semarian, who is on her way to the school to see me. She is supposed to go to a meeting at her daughter’s boarding school the next day and wants to know about logistics. She was supposed to travel back with me to Ngong on Thursday afternoon… but I am not staying overnight this week as I have too much work to do, so I tell her to go in the morning by public means. This is all well and fine and we continue on our way.

We get off the bike at the shop, walk around the water storage tank and climb a hill. We get to the top and Pastor Johnson sits down on a rock and wipes the dust off the rock next to him and I take a seat.

Pastor Johnson sits in the presence of network.

He then has an animated discussion with the fundi in Swahili…and hangs up and says, smiling… he doesn’t think he needs anymore cement but has agreed to 10 extra bags. “So we order 15,” I say. “Yes, 15,” Pastor Johnson says. We both like the current fundi, but we don’t want him to skimp on his mixture of cement with sand to save us money…we want a building that will be there for a while!

We leave Pastor Johnson at the local primary school a few meters from the shop, where he is the chairman of the PTA. Another NGO has brought maize and it is being distributed. I see some of my students (which explains the low attendance), and some other women from the community.

As it is mid-day there are no more livestock jams on the way home. After about 20 minutes we are back in consistent network range. Njenga’s phone rings. Mine Blackberry beeps with emails coming in. Njenga says in English into his cell phone, “Can you hear me now?”

All too familiar words, but so seemingly out of place…or are they?