Tom Hanks and Kristine Pearson holding a Freeplay windup radio
Kristine Pearson with Tom Hanks, who knows the power of radio

Tackling Energy Poverty

All posts tagged by Kenya

Shining a light on Rose

April 30, 2012

By Kristine Pearson

Rose sits down to study on a worn out sofa in the corner of a tin shack at 7:00 pm each school night. After she’s helped with washing up and ensuring that the other 20 orphaned children she lives with have been fed, Rose begins her homework. Science, her favourite subject, gets an hour’s attention and she usually ends at midnight with English. At one time she hoped to become a teacher, but now, Rose imagines herself as a journalist. She wants to write stories about other people’s lives.  Her newfound confidence to some extent comes with age, she’s 14 now.  Yet it’s also the result of the marked increase in her grades.  A year ago when I gave her a solar light her scores totaled around 300.  They’re now 450. Disciplined for her age, with the light she’s increased her nighttime study time from 15 minutes to five hours.

In my long blog about kerosene last year, I told the story of Rose, who lost her parents and brother to a kerosene fire. Lucy Odipo, the founder and headmistress of Little Bees School in Nairobi’s Mathare Valley slum, became her guardian. The only possibility to study was to the inefficient and toxic flames of a tin can kerosene lamp that made her feel ill.  A Grade 7 learner, Rose understands the importance of education and good marks – it’s the path out of poverty and to one day securing a job.

I first met Rose four years ago and now she’s as tall as me (5’6”).  Well spoken,  yet still shy, she was recovering from typhoid.  It’s heartbreaking as there are far too many health, safety, security and educational issues that a child living in poverty has to contend with.

In addition to improved grades, Rose says that the solar light ‘doesn’t pain her eyes’ like the koroboi (kerosene lamp) did. Her light aids her in seeing to go to the toilet after dark instead of using a plastic packet. In this regard, the light helps preserve her dignity.

Situated next to a tributary of the heavily polluted Nairobi River, Little Bees is one of an estimated 1,600 community-supported informal schools in Kenya. A dumpsite that bordered the school has now been replaced by more shacks.  There’s an urban market garden on a small patch of ground that provides onions, potatoes, squash and other vegetables to the learners.

The school relies on donations from the impoverished community and support from well-wishers and NGOs, which have provided books, uniforms, toilets, a water faucet, a rainwater harvesting drum, and an over-sized cooking pot to serve a daily meal to the children.  It’s overcrowded; some classrooms are dark with mud floors. All leak when it rains. There are three classrooms on a second story divided by white plastic sheeting. Children shimmy up and down a rickety ladder.  Most of the teachers volunteer.  Every donation is appreciated and little is taken for granted.

Every time that I have visited Little Bees, there’s been a consistency that’s palpable. The children love attending the school.

Kerosene, a burning issue in women’s rights, human rights

October 2, 2011

By Kristine Pearson
CEO, Lifeline Energy                                                                                                 This is a “blong” – a long blog.

Like many girls I’ve met in Africa, Rose’s dream is to become a teacher.  The shy grade six student revises her homework at a rickety table in a tin shack in a Nairobi slum. A kerosene lamp fashioned from a can of bug spray called a koroboi in Swahili, allows Rose to study for a mere 15 minutes a night.  The light is inefficient and dim.  The fumes are noxious; the smoke ‘scratches’ her eyes.

She says that in the morning she ‘spits up black’.  She hates kerosene not only because it stinks and makes her feel tired and ill, but because six years ago her younger brother tipped over a koroboi, catching the house on fire killing her mother, father and brother.  To 13-year-old Rose, kerosene is the smell of death.

Unfortunately, stories like this are all too common in Africa.  Exposure to kerosene retards economic progress,  poisons children, causes deadly fires, horrific burns and injuries, and death.  This fuel is silently destroying the lives and livelihoods of countless women and children across Africa.

With an estimated 870 million people in sub-Saharan Africa, 85% have no access to electricity.  Much of the population straddles the equator where it gets dark at night and light in the morning around 6:30 each day.  In addition, many African houses are rough hewn from mud or aluminium and poorly ventilated. Seeing inside is difficult even in daytime.  Pit latrines are built away from houses and people don’t use them at night for fear of the dark, snakes, or being attacked.  Of the options available for lighting – kerosene, candles, firewood and batteries – kerosene is the most common.  And because it’s for household use, it’s a woman’s fuel – and woman and children bear the brunt of energy poverty

Nyeri, a 32 year-old former teacher from Kenya’s Great Rift Valley.  Nyeri barely survived the fire that started when a koroboi’s flame caught her skirt. She was eight months pregnant.  Living in a rural area, it took hours for her to be transported to a hospital, which was ill-equipped to deal with life-threatening burns.  In agonizing pain, Nyeri prematurely gave birth to a boy. Having no way to bond with or nurse the baby because burns covered half of her body, the baby died.  Badly disfigured, when she was well enough to return home her husband divorced her, kept her children and banished her to her parent’s faraway homestead.  When Nyeri’s parents passed away she was plunged into destitution and now depends on handouts to survive.

Masquerading as a benign fuel

There are an estimated 1.4 billion people globally who live without reliable access to electricity, and an additional 1.2 billion who live with intermittent electricity.  Yet the problem remains largely unknown in developed and electrified areas of the world.  The average Westerner can likely describe water and food issues that the poor struggle with.  We worry ourselves if the water we drink and the food we eat is safe. The same can’t be said for energy. Electricity for us is a flip of a switch.  The life threatening and profoundly challenging energy issues that the poor deal with every day are largely consigned to the periphery.

Wikipedia portrays kerosene as a diverse and relatively harmless fuel, used mostly to power jet-engine aircraft and rockets.  Although it briefly glosses over the fact that ‘at one time’ it was widely used in lamps and lanterns, it woefully fails to illustrate the scale of its use in developing countries, as well the devastating impact the use of kerosene has already had. It is sold to you and me in a sealed bottle with ‘caution’ and ‘highly flammable liquid’ on the label.  Oil companies and African governments do little to help educate consumers on how to use it safely or warn of its perils.

To Africans, kerosene, or paraffin as it is also called, is a necessary evil.  It’s sold informally in market stalls and is bought and stored in disused Coke, water or liquor bottles.  Women even buy it in flimsy plastic bags. 

In South Africa, based on national surveys and hospital records, between 1996 and 2001, it was estimated that 80,000 children ingested kerosene per year and 40,000 children developed chemical pneumonia from drinking it.  It is unknown how many children actually died, but in 2001, it was estimated to be 4,000.  I would imagine this number has been reduced given South Africa’s aggressive electricity drive over the past 10 years.  That said, what about the rest of sub-Saharan Africa that has nowhere near South Africa’s current 70% electrification, the highest rate on the continent.  The numbers could truly be staggering, but no one knows.  No one is counting.

Celestine, a 12-year-old girl in Rwanda told me that she swallowed kerosene a few years ago believing it to be clean water, something she’d never before seen.  Further, she said that she worries what internal harm was caused by the incident.

What I didn’t know at the time was that the accident may leave her with lifelong heart problems and respiratory ailments. She is lucky to be alive. Kerosene is a low-viscosity hydrocarbon and it is an aspiration hazard – which means that Celestine could have choked to death on the fluid itself or suffocated from the fumes emanating from her belly.  According to the American Association of Poison Control Centers, drinking kerosene can cause chemical pneumonitis, which requires several days or weeks on a respirator in a hospital and can become a lifelong, debilitating condition.  African mothers have told me that they give their children milk to drink, if they have some.

Spilling it on the skin can be equally as hazardous.  Women have proudly told me that they rub kerosene on their children’s heads rid them of lice.

Controlled kerosene fires recently undertaken by South Africa’s Paraffin Association revealed that it takes just two minutes for temperatures to reach 1000 degrees C and eight minutes for a corrugated tin shack to burn completely.  For shacks close together, it’s easy to understand why a fire spreads quickly. What chance do emergency services have, even if they are available?

With all the horrific outcomes caused by kerosene perhaps the most heart-breaking are burn injuries.  In South Africa alone, an estimated 15,000 children survive serious burn injuries every year.  This figure does not include the many fatalities or anyone over the age of 12.  Such statistics, however, are hard to come by even in South Africa.  If data were collected over the whole of Africa, this number would surely be staggering.

Burns are the worst type of injuries in terms of trauma because they are both excruciatingly painful and deforming.  Severe burns cause major harm to motor skills and development.  At present South Africa is the only African country that can deal with large numbers of burn injuries. Chris Hani Baragwaneth Hospital in Soweto, with its 2,964 beds, is the largest acute hospital in the world. With a specialised burn treatment centre, it also houses Africa’s most comprehensive burn unit. It has just 26-beds.  According to the hospital, most children admitted to the burn unit are under the age of nine.

With 46,000 kerosene-related fires and 50,000 paraffin-related burns sustained in South Africa in 2001 alone (the most recent data I could find), the availability of treatment is depressing.  According to Johannesburg’s Institute for Social and Health Sciences, burn injuries cost an estimated $US1 million in that city alone. Burn victims usually require multiple surgeries.  With the sheer number of kerosene related injuries coupled with medical costs these figures are almost certainly grossly underestimated. Add medical care to the cost of emergency services, loss of time, loss of assets and loss of a house by people who have no insurance, the true loss of using kerosene can never be justified and the true cost can never be calculated.

Hundreds of thousands of families have stories to tell like those of Rose and Nyeri who have suffered heartbreaking loss due to kerosene. They suffer in silence under the radar screen and no one is tracking them.  These stories should no longer be ignored or just accepted as unfortunate.  They should be seen as an outrage to the dignity of the human person.

Energy Access – a matter of human rights

Despite the enormity of the problem – and the existence of reliable, cost effective solutions – access to energy is a missing Millennium Development Goal.  Access to energy underpins all eight goals yet astonishingly there is no mention of the word ‘energy’ in the entire document.

In contrast, the International Energy Agency calls for “urgent action” on the matter, and estimates that alleviating energy poverty would cost $36 billion per year.  Kerosene sales, by comparison, create a $38 billion per year industry globally, an estimated $11 billion in sub-Saharan Africa alone.  In essence, the world is already spending the money it needs to address the energy poverty problem.

Energy access is a prerequisite to achieving the socioeconomic rights set out in international human rights law including health standards and access to clean water.  The right to breathe clean air, work and study in relative safety – all of these rights are violated by the need for fuel lanterns and cook stoves.

Given the overwhelming body of evidence, I believe kerosene is a blatant violation of international human rights standards.

Energy poverty and the gender bias

Since 1999 I’ve headed a non-profit social enterprise called Lifeline Energy.  Over the past four years while in the field in various African countries, I have spoken with hundreds of poor and vulnerable women and children about their household energy use and expenditure.  What was reinforced with every group I spoke with is that all technologies and the energies used to power them have a gender bias.  There are exceptions, but largely men are in charge of household security and buy batteries for their flashlights.  I knew from years of distributing Lifeline’s solar and wind-up radios that men also buy batteries for radios and control listening access.

In sub-Saharan Africa, kerosene is mostly a ‘woman’s fuel’. In rural areas a woman walks many miles to buy kerosene at the market. In urban settlements or slums, she buys it in as little as 10c increments or by the tablespoon. It may be all that she may be able to afford.  Because of women’s work inside the home, they are constantly exposed to kerosene and its toxic fumes.

The result is that more than 1.6 million of the world’s poor die each year from the effects of indoor air pollution, according to the World Health Organization (WHO).  This is caused from both cooking and lighting. This photo I took in Rwanda illustrates that if kerosene from a tin can lamp can blacken a wall, it is doing the same to lungs.

All forms of non-renewable energy – kerosene, batteries, candles, charcoal and firewood – constrain economic development.  When added to cell phone charging, fuels for lighting and cooking, energy can consume up to 60% of household incomes in sub-Saharan Africa.  Women are subjected to a grinding cycle of abject poverty, one that impossible to escape from it you’re spending big amounts on non-renewables.

Last year I went into a rural household and saw a mother happily nursing a two month old baby less than six inches from an open flame lamp at midday.  In her culture it is not acceptable to breastfeed where men might see you.  She had no idea what harm she could be causing her child.

She didn’t realise that breathing kerosene is the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes, or that two-thirds of all lung cancer victims in developing countries are non-smoking women according to WHO.  One would think with its devastating consequences, kerosene related illnesses, burns and deaths would be tracked and monitored similar to HIV/AIDS, malaria and TB; however, this is not the case.  Well-known illnesses receive donor funding in poor countries whereas energy related illnesses are relegated to a footnote and fall into the non-communicable disease (NCD) category.

Safe kerosene education receives woefully inadequate attention from governments or the oil companies that sell it.  Comprehensive multi-media campaigns in local languages are urgently needed to encourage women to take advantage of alternatives where they do exist and to teach users ways to limit the health risks and exposure where possible.  This is especially important for children living on their own as heads of households.  They may lack trusted adults to guide them and adults themselves may not understand the range and scope of dangers.  School programmes should feature energy safety as a mandatory part of the curriculum.

Education advances are severely hampered by the way students must do their homework at night.  Kerosene burns the eyes and throat, making it impossible to study for more than a few minutes.  A record number of children are entering or returning to school in sub-Saharan Africa, yet an unintended consequence is that children are potentially harming their eyes and lungs, and even risking fires and burns, in an effort to earn good grades.

Thrusting clean energy to the top of the international agenda

The health and economic consequences of prolonged exposure to kerosene are so grave that they infringe upon the basic human rights of women and children who have no other viable energy alternatives. It is recognized in Article 25 (1) of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights that “Everyone has a right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and his family.”  Access to clean water has been singled out as a key factor that will determine the success of the Millennium Development Goals, but not access to clean energy

The United Nations General Assembly has passed a resolution declaring water and sanitation a basic human right, but not access to clean energy.

To propel access to clean energy to the forefront of the international agenda it must be declared a basic human right.  Declaring access to energy a human right reorganizes the lens through which the issue is viewed.  It becomes not merely a goal or agenda item, but a substantial imperative to which every individual is entitled.

The UN has declared 2012 as the International Year of Sustainable Energy for All. By launching UN–Energy, the UN states it is committed to ensuring universal access to modern energy services by 2030. It also aims to bring energy access innovation together with the correct policy to reach a global scale, developing and deploying new and appropriate solutions. These are important steps in the right direction and many ground-breaking initiatives are underway.  Progress on grid and mini-grid electrification projects has commenced, but they often take years to become operational with huge financial investments required.

Solutions already exist. Barriers to the effective delivery of modern energy services must be eliminated. Off-grid portable renewable energy solar LED lights and lanterns, as well as energy-efficient cook stoves have already been developed for these markets. However, often steep duties, as much as 40%, and taxes or VAT varying between 12% in Botswana to 19.35% in Cameroon, making them unaffordable to the poorest – those who need them most. With appropriate government oversight and financial support, reform of subsidies and duties and equal gender participation in entrepreneurial initiatives transitioning from kerosene to renewable energy would be the start to create safer environments and economic opportunities. Children, women, families and communities would be able to safely convert unproductive night-time hours into productive ones.

Kerosene and energy access are pressing human rights issues that governments and the international community are obligated to act upon with expediency to end the on-going struggle of women and children forced to use kerosene in their daily lives. There are many problems in the world that are extremely complex and difficult to solve. This is not one of them. With the right approach, the use of kerosene and the energy poverty that it perpetuates and intensifies can become a thing of the past.

Enabling Students to Study Safely

May 13, 2011

Project manager Chhavi Sharma distributes lights to students in Nairobi slum

Little Bees School is run by Mama Lucy Odipo in Starehe, a densely populated section of Nairobi’s Mathare Valley slum. Lifeline Energy has been working there for more than three years. Kristine Pearson, Lifeline Energy’s CEO, and I were there to distribute solar-powered and wind-up Lifelights.

When questioned about their study habits, they told us that they usually read by the poor flame of a candle or koroboi, the traditional kerosene lamp made from tin cans. Even then, their use is economised and carefully budgeted, so that the kerosene can be made to last as many days as possible.  All members of the household have to share it, as there is no electricity in the area.

The children use the substitutes for electricity, i.e. the candle or koroboi, to study and do their homework in the evenings, but cannot do so for more than 20-30 minutes at a stretch, as the smoke greatly irritates their eyes and often makes them spit up black soot, they went on to explain.

The hazardous and undesirable effects of candles and kerosene on indoor air quality, which result in health – especially respiratory – issues and accidents, such as burns and fires, is well documented. These children, some as young as 12 years old, confront these problems on a daily basis, since they also use the candles and korobois to go to the communal toilets and assist their mothers with household chores, like preparing the dinner, washing the utensils and making the beds, after dark.

The children told us that the lights will enable them to study for one or two hours every night, giving them enough time to complete their homework. They believe ti will improve their academic performance in school over time. This was extremely important to them, as some of them are gearing up for national exams at the end of this year, which will gain them entry into secondary schools. In addition, the lights will help them feel safer by making it easy for them to spot thieves lurking in the alleyways and snakes and scorpions, when they walk to the toilets in the dark. Household size averages five in Starehe and all will now benefit.

The distribution of the lights was empowering for so many children and their families, and extremely moving for both Kristine and myself, as it gave them access to a practical tool that will help change their lives and brighten their future in more ways than one with immediate effect.

A Tribute to Victor – a Hero of the Starehe Slum

February 17, 2011

By Kristine Pearson

Women and men who devote their lives to making a difference for others are publicly honored as ‘heroes’ by CNN, Time magazine, Skoll Foundation and others.  I believe that the real heroes are those unsung, unrecognized people living in the communities they serve and who are often live in poverty themselves.

One such hero was 31-year old Victor Ochieng. Victor had worked his way up from security guard to headmaster of Little Bees, a school built beside a refuse dump in Nairobi’s sprawling Mathare Valley slum.

In 2008 I was introduced to the much loved, irrepressible, larger than life, 60-year old Mama Lucy Odipo,  a community organizer and founder of the Little Bees School.  The school is situated in Starehe, a seven-hectare maze of rusty iron roofed shacks and shops, muddy alleyways and rocky streets. Mama Lucy received one of our radios through a women’s group and she invited me to visit the school.

A colleague and I arrived to the parking area next to the sign (land) ‘grabbers will face necessary action’.  We walked down a slope criss-crossing the muddy, smelly stream of sudsy wash water mixed with raw sewage, which flowed into a narrow tributary of the brown Nairobi River that was choked with garbage.  We turned right into an unmarked dark passage just wide enough for two people and heard the sound of children laughing.  It was recess.

“Welcome to Little Bees, my name is Victor.”  A tall, thin man wearing khaki trousers and tennis shoes extended his hand to me with a smile. He told me that he was the head of security and proudly showed me around. Victor escorted me to the small playground, packed with children playing on equipment that included a rickety jungle gym, an upside down wheelbarrow and a seesaw.

On one side of the playground were sheet metal, dirt floored, sand flea infested, makeshift classrooms filled with second-hand desks.  Each classroom only had one small window. On the other side were two unpainted brick classrooms. I could see that they were building a second floor with plastic tarp walls. The children shimmied up and down a rough-hewn ladder as if it were stairs with a railing. It made me nervous, but no one else seemed to be. The toilets were overflowed, as evidently the municipality had not emptied them. Little Bees would be condemned in America or Europe.

Nonetheless, the 20 orphans taken in by Mama Lucy, some of whom are disabled, and the more than 180 day students, were as playful and full of life as any child in an upmarket school. They crowded around me and welcomed me with a song.  Their red and blue uniforms with white shirts were patched and mended hand-me-downs, most of which did not fit. Every day the children ate a hot meal prepared by volunteer mothers from the neighborhood cooked in a big iron cauldron over a wood fire. Although hugely under-resourced, the children were loved, fed and thriving. Victor adored the children and they clearly loved him.

Primary education is free in Kenya.  There is an acute shortage of schools in slums. Non-formal schools like Little Bees spring up to provide an education offered by volunteer teachers, who may not have a teaching qualification.  Victor told me how much they appreciated listening to the school lessons broadcast by the Kenya Institute of Education on our radio, especially for subjects like science and maths.

A few months later, I returned to Little Bees and Victor greeted me like a long lost friend, telling me that he’s ‘moved up’ to librarian and head of procurement. I had a Tom Hanks Day t-shirt with me given to Lifeline Energy by Kevin Turk, an American who raises funds for us each year through his International Tom Hanks Day fundraising event. It was too big for the children, so I gave it to Victor.

As I was taking some video, Victor reappeared in his new t-shirt and I casually asked him if he knew whom Tom Hanks was? He thought for a minute and said the he did not.  I asked him to guess.  Here’s the sweet video.

VictorandTomHanks

Over the next few visits, ‘Tommy Honks’ as Victor called him became an inside joke between us and we always laughed about it.

Last year in May, before the World Cup, I gave Victor a Vuvuzela in the colors of the South African flag. It was the first one that anyone had seen (other than in a newspaper) and Victor swiftly became the Pied Piper of Starehe. As he blew it and the children followed him around the school and into the street.  He was so proud of his new ‘trumpet’ and he loved entertaining the community.

Every time I’ve been in Nairobi, probably nine times in the past three years, I have visited Little Bees.  Each time Victor had been promoted – from security, to procurement, to librarian to social studies teacher, to deputy headmaster. Victor’s life was the school.  With each visit Victor proudly showed off his latest renovation. On my last visit he was being groomed to take over as headmaster, enabling Mama Lucy to slow down.

I emailed Mama Lucy in January to tell her I was coming to visit. She wrote me back and told me that Victor had been murdered.  He went out at night to buy medicine for his young son, Meso, when three thugs stabbed him in the stomach and snatched his cell phone.  He died later that night in Kenyatta Hospital.

When I visited Little Bees twice in early February, sadness filled the air.  I learned that Victor, who was survived by a young wife and two young children, was Mama Lucy’s fourth born son, out of 15 children. She had never mentioned that Victor was her child. She didn’t want me to think that he had been promoted out of nepotism, but instead because of his abilities, devotion and dedication to the children – the ‘little bees’.

Victor was buried on 12 February at his birthplace in Kisumu, in Kenya’s Western province at a funeral attended by hundreds of mourners.

How this slum school survives on so little is a miracle, but how it will survive without Victor I don’t know.

Living in a Nairobi slum where the conditions of life are unspeakable in 2011 – overcrowding, inadequate housing, the paucity of basic services, the lack of quality health care, combined with high levels of violence and insecurity  – where a life is reduced to a cell phone – is nothing short of a human rights abuse.

Victor was robbed of his phone and paid for it with his life.  And Mama Lucy was robbed of a son, the school was robbed of devoted role model and leader, and humanity was robbed of a hero.

Please let us know if you would like to make a contribution to the Little Bees School, which can either be done through Lifeline Energy or sent directly to Mama Lucy.


TEDWomen conference – “fuel–based violence”

December 13, 2010

By Kristine Pearson in Washington, DC.

Last week I had the opportunity to attend the first TEDWomen conference in Washington, DC.  Over the past two decades I’ve attended at many women-centered forums, but this was the most intense and wide-ranging, attracting around 600 overwhelmingly female delegates and 50 mainly female speakers. True, most speakers and participants were American, but we also heard the voices of inspirational women from around the world who are creating and making change. In our own way, we all participated in the conversation, and an incredible collective conversation it was.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton speaking at TEDWomen Conference

The driving force behind this event, Pat Mitchell, I heard described last year as a woman’s woman.  She’s also a feminist’s feminist who has been a mentor and role model to me and I suspect hundreds of other women over her celebrated career as a journalist.

We listened to women tell about their struggles and stories,  like a mother-daughter doctor team from Somalia; National Geographic filmmakers Beverly and Derek Joubert; India’s top cop Kiran Bedi; the ‘man-box’ originator Tony Parker; environmental commentator Naomi Klein; patient capital pioneer Jacqueline Novogratz; Phyllis Rodriguez, who lost her son in the World Trade Center on September 11 and Aicha El-Wafi, mother of Zacarias Moussaoui, who is serving a life sentence without parole for conspiring to kill US citizens; surprise speaker Hilary Clinton; and concluding presenter, the irrepressible, extraordinary Eve Ensler.

Former Canadian politician, UN Ambassador and UN Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa Steven Lewis, who I had never heard speak before, delivered an impassioned, blistering attack on the UN for failing women in terms of violence, rape, HIV/AIDS and other critical issues.

Wow, I thought, there’s another form of violence that no one’s talking about – it’s silent, visible as wispy black smoke and it stinks – it’s kerosene. Brought to us by oil companies, and the entire energy supply is virtually entirely men even down to the local kerosene sellers,  this highly flammable fossil fuel is largely unregulated in the developing world.  Kerosene or paraffin, as it’s also known, violates a woman’s eyes and lungs (made much worse if she is HIV positive or has TB).  According to the World Bank, 780 million women and children inhale fumes equivalent to smoke from two packs of cigarettes a day.  Two-thirds of lung cancer victims in developing countries are women.

When I was in Kenya’s Maasailand earlier in the year, I asked 90 rural kerosene-dependent women how many had suffered burns on themselves or their children and at least 20 women raised their hands.  A few told stories of fires that cost them dearly, including the lives of a loved one.  Some shared how their children had ingested kerosene believing it to be water.

If ‘fuel–based violence’ impacted men in the same way, something would have been done by now to ensure the poorest had some form of access to modern energy.  But because women in Africa so often have only a small voice — or none at all — millions are suffering scratchy blood shot eyes, acute respiratory illness, asthma, chronic bronchitis and even pulmonary disease.  It’s time we all step up and help poor women everywhere access clean energy.

So thank you, Stephen Lewis, for giving me an additional frame in which to encase the deadly consequences of kerosene usage.  And thanks to all the wonderful people who staged such a powerful
two days and who gave so openly of themselves.

Seeing Gladys again after four year

October 11, 2010

An update by Kristine Pearson in Kabras

Gladys Kadogomoses’ big blue radio works perfectly after more than four years of constant use by her and her ladies’ listening group. She told me with great affection what it had meant to her – how she learned so much about health, nutrition and women’s rights; how she followed events during the frightening unrest in 2008 on the BBC; how she listened to the debates around the referendum; and most importantly about the programmes that told her about the medicines she needed to take and when to take them – because Gladys is HIV positive.

I first met gracious and friendly Gladys just after she had been diagnosed. She told me openly that she felt hopeless, ashamed and contemplated suicide because her deceased truck-driver husband, had left her nothing other than a disease. Then she joined the women’s self-help group Vumilia (perseverance in Swahili) and met weekly with other women in similar circumstances. With support, encouragement, and acceptance coupled with anti-retroviral drugs, she began to put her life back together.

In 2006 Gladys received a Lifeline radio along with 30 other positive women. She was the only one not a grandmother.

This was the first time since then that I had been back to Vumilia, which is in Kabras, just north of Kakamega in Western Kenya. On the weekend, I visited Gladys in her home to find out about her first night with her Lifelight.  The day before she and 30 other women, participated in a Lifelight workshop.

Gladys beamed when she told me that her three children shared the light to study and for the first time she could see properly at night to read her Bible.  Also for the first time, they used the pit latrine after dark, feeling safe from snakes and being able to see. She said, “without this light, at night we are otherwise forced to use a small white bucket.”

In addition, she spoke about the savings on paraffin that she would make.  Gladys, like most women I’ve met who live in poverty, buy paraffin daily in small amounts.  She spends anywhere from 20-40 Kenya shillings (25-50 US cents) per day averaging KS10,950 annually or a staggering $135. When the children study for exams she buys enough for light three lights.  With the Lifelight, her savings will be significant.

Vumilia’s founder, Rose Ayuma Moon, who grew up in the Kabras area, established in 2004.  Although she lives in Nairobi, she set up Vumilia because she saw how the skyrocketing HIV/AIDS pandemic was disrupting the lives of alarming numbers in her community and at that time the government was doing very little. Today Vumilia provides health and psycho-social support to 200 HIV positive women – all but two are grannies. In addition, Rose, who tirelessly and heroically divides her time between Kabras and Nairobi, also established the Vulmilia Home for Orphaned Girls, a residential facility for 22 girls aged 3-16 in 2006.

Lifelight for Kenyan Student Rose

June 30, 2010

Meet Rose, a 12 year old orphaned student who lives with Mama Lucy Odipo at the Little Bees School in Starehe slum, Nairobi, Kenya. Rose talks to Lifeline Energy’s CEO Kristine Pearson about using kerosene and its tragic consequences.

Women and Girls Refugees Tune in Radio in Big Numbers

October 28, 2009

7:45 am – A convoy of 4×4 UNHCR vehicles, escorted by a Kenyan police patrol car, leaves the safe haven of the office and residential compound for all international development organisations. Our vehicle, piled high with Lifeline radio cartons and, with members of the UNHCR Community Services team, four Somali-speaking trainers from the local Pastoralist Journalist Network (PAJAN) and me, Lifeline Energy’s Project Manager, is part of this fleet moving towards the Ifo refugee camp on a desolate, red clay road.

Ifo, the first and the largest of the three camps comprising Dadaab – with a population of almost 100,000 people – is a six kilometre drive. The October rains have turned the flat-topped Acacia trees and scrubs in this semi-arid region of North Eastern Kenya lush green. The scenery is pretty, with the sun climbing into the clear blue sky in the background. Our drive along the bumpy track is made even more unpredictable as our vehicle surges through deep, flooded ruts at a speed of 80 kilometres per hour.

Splashing muddy water on the goat herds passing by and with our tyres immersed in slush for most of the rollercoaster-like journey, we arrive at Ifo. We are welcomed by CARE International and the National Council of the Churches of Kenya (NCCK) field staff. They introduce us to the Somali refugees who we are going to work with today – woman and adolescent girls, some of whom have been living in the camp since it was established in 1991.

We are here to distribute Lifeline radios and train the group in their use and care. The radios are to be used by women and girls in listening circles in their communities, to give them reliable access to news and other vital information.

The first task is to further divide the group according to the languages spoken. Today we have Somali-speaking women, Ethiopian women from the western Gambella region who speak only English, and a Swahili-speaking woman from the Democratic Republic of Congo. The PAJAN trainers conduct the training workshops, explaining the concepts in detail and testing the women as they go along. I observe for the most part, only jumping in when necessary.

The women sign the user agreements which commit to the radio’s good use and care and receive their radios. They are a little nervous in the beginning, but all their shyness goes away when they begin cranking the radios with full force. It is hard to tell the exact expressions on their faces, as most of them are completely veiled, but the chatter and laughter in the group expresses their delight.

The women and girls tell us that they are tired of relying on second-hand information, and are very excited to feel in control of the news affecting their lives. They are eager to know the latest about the political situation in Somalia, Ethiopia, Eritrea and the Congo, as well as keep abreast of the developments in Kenya and the rest of the world. Health programmes on HIV/AIDS and other diseases, maternity care, and the importance of breastfeeding and agricultural features on farming and spraying livestock all form part of the list of broadcasts that they want to tune into.

After an interactive session of questions, answers, some one-on-one interviews and picture taking, we wave goodbye to the women and girls and set off. A quick pit stop for a lunch of cold drinks, Energy Plus biscuits and tinned pineapple under the shade of a neem tree, and we are on our way back to the UNHCR compound. The scorching sun, high in the sky, beats down relentlessly and a sauna-like afternoon heat envelops us.

When we first started working in Dadaab in 2007 there were 170,000 refugees. With the ongoing violence in Somalia, that number has swelled to 289,000 and the majority are women and children.

Watch Mama Lucy Talk About her Lifeline Radio

September 11, 2009

Local heroine Mama Lucy with Lifeline radio

Local heroine Mama Lucy with Lifeline radio

Check out our latest video on Alternative Channel where Mama Lucy Odipo, founder and headmistress of the Little Bees School in Starehe township, Nairobi speaks to CEO of Lifeline Energy, Kristine Pearson.

In the video, Mama Lucy talks about the blessing of solar power as she does not have access to electricity and cannot afford to buy batteries.   She teaches 180 students the Kenyan National Curriculum with her wind-up and solar-powered Lifeline radio.