#agf2014

[elakagami]

I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE

[espie-arts]

Small preview at AGF of the Pikuriru strap lineup for early 2015, including adorable ones for Kuroshitsuji Book of Circus and Cardcaptor Sakura.

[discoveringaliyah]

Manifesto in Action

The Acumen Manifesto is a philosophy to which I continue to aspire even though I may always fall short. My experience in the field has brought to life some aspects of the organisations it invests in, I can but only begin to understand what is a drop in the ocean.

It starts by standing with the poor, listening to voices unheard, and recognising potential where others see despair.

I hear the need for trust.

Between people. In the desperation that often surrounds those we want to serve, people that they should be able to trust, teachers, community members, take the little opportunities to take advantage of others, breeding a culture of suspicion and an individualistic mind-set.

Between Companies and their Customers. Everything from past experience tells them they will be screwed. Made in China did not come with a negative reputation in East Africa by accident – it’s what people look for before rejecting it with disdain. A solar lantern, even the cheapest of the range is considered a large sum of money, if they take the leap of faith - because they can see the potential for their future with our product - we should take that leap with them. By being empathetic towards their needs and fears and listening closely to what they voice but also what they demonstrate. At the very least give them a warranty.

I hear the need for good fortune or a stroke of luck.

Mama Ngina*, insisting on me, a perfect stranger, to just enter her home for a brief moment. Guests bring blessings and good fortune, and they believe they need all they can get for a lucky break to help them turn their life around. How do we help people create their own luck?

I hear acceptance. 

Esther, a young graduate who fought her way to be educated against the odds came out the other end with a University degree in environmental studies.” I'm just a sales girl now. Maybe there was no point in getting my degree as there are no jobs available but it could have been much worse.” How do we help continue to challenge the status quo, without losing hope?

I hear humanity.

Maina, a young adolescent of 16 years explaining to me that if he had an extra Ksh1000 ($10) he would buy oil and flour to give to his mother, just so he could see her smile a little bit more and forget her worries for a while. I learn a lesson.

When I look to the future, with a simple d.light solar lantern…

I see entire villages lit up; symbolising hope, embodying the drive and motivation needed to begin the gruelling journey out of poverty.

I see children studying, hard. Filled with ambition, with dreams of becoming the next president – and fulfilling them because they were given an opportunity.

I see families beginning to save some money. Allowing them to eat, every day. And then I see them reinvesting in their children, in their future, in their hopes, in new freedoms. I see faith.

I see young children breathe deeply, absent of the hacking cough that is characteristic of their parents. Growing in to stronger more driven individuals not inhibited by their unhealthy environments.

I see the beginning of a fairer world.

* Name changed for this blog

[discoveringaliyah]

Conflict: A State of Existence

This years’ journey, I thought, was the beginning of finding insight to answers to some of the questions that loomed over me but it seems that with every answer comes ten more questions each more poignant and eye opening and filled with conflict.

Conflict was certainly what I expected but I expected to be faced with the big questions – right vs wrong, good vs bad, corruption vs getting stuff done, life vs death, positive impact vs detrimental impact. Being in a constant state of conflict on small scale every day interactions came as a shock – it is exhausting!

“YOU are the axe that cuts the tree which bears my fruit.”

My heart stops for a spilt second, guilt washes over me and sinks like a rock to the pit of my stomach and sits there weighing me down. Minutes later replaced with a burst of flames, filled with anger and fury I want to scream with exasperation. I had not done anything wrong, yet I allowed these words to consume me as I contemplate the situation.

James*, a taxi driver, had been assigned to take me to and from work every day which was convenient however, this arrangement was not a cost effective means of transport. In addition, a few weeks later I craved the freedom and spontaneity of being able to come and go at my heart’s content. I got myself a car and as an act of courtesy called James to inform him that I would no longer require him to pick me up every day. It was a week later when I ran in to him at a friend’s place that I was faced with his vindictive words. 

Once I stopped allowing my emotions to get the better of me I thought of the implications of a large part of his business falling through. I understand the obvious knock on effects of a reduced income stream on both him and his family and the initial shock of the unexpected. I even understand the feeling of reluctance to go out and find new contracts and the feeling of despair when they are not forthcoming. However, working for a social business, any business in fact, is it not my responsibility to use our resources efficiently? To be conscious of the decisions I make and the impact they have on others? For me this was a simple case of no longer using a particular service as I had found another more convenient and cost effective way to operate – is this not what all businesses aspire to? I know this all to be true and rational so why this situation causes so much conflict with in me is baffling.

This incident posed several more questions for me but particularly made me think about the decision making process as a business and the human impact these decisions have. As a social business, the end game is improving the quality of lives of individuals, giving them more choices in a dignified manner. If you take solar lanterns as an example, when you’re launching a new project or a new distribution channel, to make it financially viable you will need to achieve scale and unit economics; in rural Kenya this is usually in larger towns with some economic activity, cash flow and electricity. Financially it makes sense to go to those places that actually have a lower human impact, yet how do you balance this with reaching those located in remote, sparsely populated areas where a solar lantern would positively change the way individuals could experience their lives. I’ve can see that to have true impact you first need to reach financial stability as a business so perhaps the short term trade-offs are worth it to fulfil the long term vision.

The spectrum of conflict varies, ranging from ambiguous through to almost trivial but conflict nonetheless. More importantly, I have learnt that every day we have the opportunity to decide at which point on any given spectrum we stand and with every decision we can nudge our interactions with the world away from being selfish and inward focused towards an outcome that is for the greater good.

Embrace the conflict.

*Name changed for the purpose of this blog post

Photo: Biking through Hells Gate National Park, Naivasha, Kenya

[discoveringaliyah]

Home Coming

You get to see the world from another perspective

Place a new lens over your blurry vision

Open yourself to vulnerabilities of the unfamiliar

And yes, I love you, I am thrilled for you

Yet the child like awe of a new reality escapes me.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  

Torched airport buildings; charred vision of a memory

Neon Pelican signs still flashing since before I was even thought of

The crumbling pride of a forgotten railway lurks in the shadows

Billboards block out the concrete of the city and disappear into midnight

Dark, quiet, in the neighbourhood I now call home.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .    

Tall and proud, maize imposes its importance

Goats huddled under an oil tank escape the afternoon bake

Bougainvillea. A punch of shocking pink at every opportunity

Purple haze of Jacarandas in bloom, soften heavy skies

Unfaltering sunshine; the sharp, crisp breeze of rainy season dismissed.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .    

Past loves, old wounds. Childhood friendships still just as vibrant

New faces, hearts radiating warmth that England’s frosty embrace let me forget

Full body massage courtesy of broken roads

Sweet sweet smells of burning tyres merging with roasted corn and fried cassava

Powerful African beats pulsing through my body, exploding in my soul.

I missed you.

Revived. Alive. Kenya – I’m home.

[discoveringaliyah]

I come from here, I come from there. In truth, I come from everywhere.

Where are you from? Such a simple question for some. 

Irish passport in hand, an Indian in Nairobi, a Kenyan in London, an Englishwoman in New York – developing a worryingly American accent. 

Most people will never feel terror like the terror I feel stepping into a taxi: 

“Grand Central Station please.”

”Maam! Where are you from?”

“Kenya.”

“You don't look Kenyan. Where are you really from?”

“Oh right, Ireland.”

“No Maam, I've seen Irish people before. Where are YOU from?”

Oh dear. Another taxi driver about to be disappointed.

See that’s the thing, I feel like a part of many cultures but truly own none. I feel at home behind the wheel; dodging potholes and racing matatus. Or walking through the city market absorbing the energetic bustle, covered in the dust of rich red Kenyan soil. I feel equally at home dancing the night away Bollywood style, meditating in the silence of the breaking dawn or tucked away in the corner of a cosy pub indulging in my afternoon tea.

Blessed with layers of cultural complexity, it increases with every flight, every decision, every smile. The more I move, the richer my fabric, the bigger my family, the greater my confusion. 

I grow, I change. Which me you see depends on me, but it depends on you too. 

I am a 3rd culture kid. My identity once paralysed me but today I see it as a gift - a way to connect with and understand the people I meet.

Inspired by A. Maalouf in On Identity:

“Those who can accept their diversity fully will hand on the torch between communities and cultures, will be the kind of mortar joining together and strengthening the societies in which they live. On the other hand, those who cannot accept their own diversity may be among the most virulent of those prepared to kill for the sake of identity, attacking those who embody that part of themselves which they would like to see forgotten.”

[discoveringaliyah]

My Relationship with Noise: A Lesson in Empathy

Fall in New York City. Trees - green, yellow, red, auburn, brown and every shade in between - greet you at every turn. The sunny mild weather merges with the crisp sharp winds, allowing me to enjoy the outdoors in a way I rarely can in rainy England. Walking to work couldn’t be more pleasurable, except for the incessant noise. The constant drone of the city that plays havoc on my ears and forces me to struggle through conversations and disrupts my train of thought with beeps, sirens, screams, woofs, crashes, bangs, swear words and the screech of tyres. 

On arrival at the Acumen office I had to surrender all my belongings. It was a shock to the system to learn that today’s task was an exercise in empathy, to get out in to the city for the day and understand the everyday barriers and challenges people face on a daily basis in accessing food, shelter or healthcare. The basics. Armed with $5, 2 metro rides and a list of resources across the city, I stood at the exit feeling exposed with no wallet, no phone, no sunglasses to hide my fear and uncertainty.

I was lost, vulnerable - how was I supposed to simulate this feeling and understanding?

Dejected and frustrated I perched on the sidewalk, tired and hunched on the floor – I sat there and stared for some time. All I could see were feet, hundreds of feet attached to legs walking right passed me in the hurried way that urban city dwellers do. Those legs belonged to a body with a face but not one stopped to glance my way, to see if I was ok, to understand my story and where I came from. They didn’t care.  For someone else a few blocks away I was a set of feet on every other day.

I mustered up the courage to try to access the healthcare system through an HIV test (as they are free) and headed uptown to The Bronx. I opened the door of the clinic, looked in to a sea of faces, turned around and walked right out. The thought of walking in there terrified me. What was I doing?! I took a loop of the hospital floor and found myself in front of the same door again. Breathe. I took the plunge and walked in.

“Can I get an HIV test please?” I whispered.

“Sure, can I have your clinic card?”

My what?! The next 3 hours lead me to information desk…waiting room…finance… waiting room… insurance…waiting room…back to finance. Stacks of paper to sign, none of which I could even read properly. I felt like a pinball machine in slow motion. Finally back to the HIV clinic just before they closed for the day. The test took a grand total of 15 seconds, a simple gum swab. The kind, non-judgemental women who took my test was somewhat confused as to why this was the first time a 30 year old was taking an HIV test. 

The wait for the results was a very long 20 minutes and not because I was worried about the results! Three minutes in to my wait a young man slid in to the seat next to me and smiled. What ensued was akin to what you might find at a bar in the Meatpacking district on a really bad night. The thought of this room being a place to find dates horrified me in ways I couldn’t even process while sat there. It made me think, what if I was HIV+, it didn’t stop me being human, it didn’t stop me desiring companionship, it didn’t stop me wanting to be attractive or be attracted to someone. The questions kept flowing with no answers in sight.

As I walked back on the outside, I felt like I was walking these streets for the first time. 

I wanted to run.

I wanted to hide.

I wanted to pull my hoodie over my head and disappear from the world to a place of comfort. 

In a city where I was lost, navigating the unfamiliar streets, it was the relentless noise that gave me comfort, safety and protection.