Copstick covers 100% of her own costs, including accommodation and flights and takes zero from the charity… 100% of all donations go to the charity’s work.
Here are the latest edited extracts from her diaries. The full versions are on her Facebook page.
Stand by to get very angry. Remember with all this stuff, nothing helps quite like having the money to do something about it.
So never forget Mama Biashara has a BTMyDonate page. Feel free (in fact feel obliged) to share this… If you can get someone else to donate then you don’t have to …
In tonight’s news from Kenya… Opposition proscribed as a criminal organisation. Media blackout continues. Until government ‘investigation’ is done. Gulp.
I have slept like the proverbial log. Our first stop is the delightful oasis that is Wildebeest Camp to collect the farming tools I have left there. They are for the new Maasai group I am visiting.
I send a plangent plea to Vikram Dave for school fees for the Ruai children Mama Biashara has been supporting. Nowadays the school fees are crippling for us.
I am VERY late to meet Doris at ChickenMaster. She is asleep at the table when I arrive, having been up all night taking phone calls from desperate mothers of abused children who have nowhere to turn. The group we are meeting tomorrow seem quite emboldened now they have made the decision to meet us. As if they can see light at the end of the tunnel and are at least 99% sure it is not an oncoming train. They will be bringing actual business plans. They are ready to go.
I have a meeting with Julius – Baba Biashara in Western Kenya.
Julius has been doing great stuff. We now have a functioning kibanda (a small single-room building) with walls and everything at the entrance to his plot. We just need to put in an electrical socket (we got the wire to bring electricity to the plot last time) and we can do everything there.
Julius has been making the most of the stuff Mama Biashara left him with – cod liver oil, glucosamine sulphate etc etc and he has a long list of quasi-medical complaints from his last get together with our groups. Generally of the “I get ulsas (acid indigestion) when I eat a big ugali” variety.
I am really hoping that Vikram Dave (if he gets back to me) will be able to help with shoes for these people. The jiggers that infest the soil, burrow into the feet, lay eggs, explode out and leave septic sores are kept at bay completely by shoes. We have a great jiggers project here with Julius and we can treat them. But with no shoes they just burrow back.
Our businesses are doing well and the area is gagging for more raincatchers. It is now dry here and a full raincatcher will keep a small community for about six weeks through the first part of the dry spell. When there is any rain at all, it is more or less all they need. And while they use raincatcher water there is absolutely no waterborn disease.
I ask Julius about the problem of child rape in Western (my Mama Biashara peeps are our eyes and ears on the ground across Kenya).
Not a biggie, I hear.
It is frowned upon in Luhya culture – as Julius says: “People will not like you because you have done a bad thing”.
However “Rape case is upon the family” he says. Meaning it has to get sorted out amongst the people themselves. Hmmmm. There is one case, he suddenly remembers, of a boy “with blood coming down” which was noticed by the mother. Julius says he will look into it. I think about shrieking: “You must contact the police!” But I realise this would do no good.
David arrives and we meet Doris and set off for Kitengela.
I do not like Kitengela. This is more or less Maasai country and every bar and restaurant is full with men eating meat (OK slight exaggeration but not much). Anyone who thinks they have witnessed the objectification of women anywhere in the west really needs to come here. Even I, hyper-insensitive as I am, can feel like I am being looked at like a cross between nothing at all and a breeding cow. I am almost overwhelmed with the urge to do something appalling or to face off with one of these arrogant, meaty-eyed, entitled (in their own way) patriarchs. But TBH, the thought of what my Dad would say stops me.
I do not fail to see the irony in that.
We find a space at the back of a bar and our group arrives. So as not to arouse suspicion, one representative from each mini-group comes. Four young women and, surprisingly, a man.
I am at a loss as to imagine how the man fits in… Is his wife getting jiggy with his son? Surely not.
Ntoto represents four men who met time and time again at the police station or at their local Chief’s office. They had all come to report the same thing. These men are Maasai from Tanzania who have married across the border into Kenya. The Kenyan Maasai do not like them and they display their Kenyan dislike by raping the wives and the children of the incomers. Repeatedly. With absolute impunity.
Ntoto and his friends went to their local Chief and to the police and none of them would do anything.
So he is here with a plan to move back into Tanzania with his wife and five children and his three friends and their wives and ten children and make a new life. They are going to manufacture charcoal. Ecologically dubious, but a good business. He almost cries when I hand over the money.
I almost cry when I hand over the money but there is no time because now we have Naserian, representing four women and sixteen children. With this little group, the husbands wait until the girl children are “big” – ie 11 years old – before raping them. The group have a good business plan, an escape route and have organised a place to stay in their new town. We have a counsellor in place there who will be there for sessions with both mothers and children as soon as they are safe and established.
Next, Mary – heading a group of four women with thirteen children and Jane, whose group of four women have sixteen children between them. With these women, the husband does not bother to wait until the girls are “big”. The rape starts, we hear, when the children are as young as five.
All the groups are going to the same town, which is great for moral support. And for the reason that they can all go to the same hospital to get checked and our counsellor can do group sessions. One of the ladies in the last group has something of an additional problem. She has five children with a child rapist. But was herself raped by another man in the community. And is now pregnant with his child.
It is brain-addling that, as I am here, my Facebook is hotching with horror at the abomination that is having ‘Brolly Dollies’ on the grid at bike races because it objectifies women. See above.
Mama Biashara subsists solely on donations from the public and from sales at its London shop. Copstick covers 100% of her own costs, including flights and accommodation and takes zero.
100% of all donations go to the charity’s work.
You can donate HERE.
COPSTICK’S DIARY CONTINUES HERE