It was the summer of 2003, and I had joined Adventures in Missions on a six month trip to Kenya. This was the first of many journeys to a place that now feels more like home than my home town of Atlanta. The focus of our group was to do preliminary networking and investigate possible internship opportunities.
I was excited about the opportunity and was in no way prepared when God dropped us in a shack outside Kibera. Kibera is a slum on the outskirts of Nairobi, documented as the largest urban slum in Africa. The population density of Kibera makes it difficult to know exactly how many people live there, but it is estimated 1 million people live in an area roughly the size of Central Park in New York City.
Those who live in Kibera face insane need all day every day. I woke every morning with an awareness that the needs of Kibera were greater than anything my team could ever provide. As I talked to those who lived there, I learned about their desperate want for what we consider basic resources like food, shelter, and education. The children in Kibera were limitless in numbers, and quickly I began to notice they were carrying their school books in torn plastic grocery bags. Sometimes the bags would rip and their books would fall on the dusty ground. I learned that they used these bags because they could not afford the sturdier backpacks sold in the market for 300 Shillings ($3.50 US).
I’m an idea person. I love dreaming and doing the legwork for new concepts and then passing them to people who will finish them. When faced with a desire to improve the book-carrying situation of Kibera’s children, my mind went into overdrive on how to provide a sustainable and cost-effective solution.
Prior to leaving on the trip, my mom had made me a cotton, drawstring track bag. It was a simple, easily reproducible design, and I thought, “What if we could make a bag for these kids that would cost 50 Shillings, at a sixth of the cost of the market option?” I imagined children all throughout the Kibera slum using these bags as an easily accessible and trendy option – because even if you live in a slum, you still want to be unique and trendy.
Once I had the idea, it was time to take action. I traveled to a local canvas facility and inquired about the cost of waterproof canvas. I investigated the cost of a seamstress to do production. I created a business plan. I was even willing to donate the $100 needed for the initial product wave. The only thing remaining I needed was a business partner native to Kenya who had the street sense and flexibility to join in the mission.
The daughter of the landlord of the home where we were staying was a young, single mom. She was educated and personable. Her father was a Muslim and as a single mother of a newborn, it was surprising to many that her father had allowed her to move back home. Even though she lived under her father’s roof, she was feeling pressure to provide income and purpose to her new stage of life. We spent a lot of time together, talking about life and the baby and what she might think would be next in her journey. As our relationship developed, it became clear she possessed the qualities I was looking for in someone to hand off my school bag idea.
I was excited to propose my plan to her! She would not need to travel far from home to manage the business and her investment would be low since I was willing to contribute the initial $100 startup cost. There were several schools within a radius of where she lived and her profit margin would be exceptional. With vigor I explained the plan, expecting her to jump out of her chair and wholeheartedly agree to run with the idea.
But she didn’t. She was quiet and thoughtful. After considering my words for a time, she carefully responded, “Could you just give me the $100 to start a tomato stand instead?”
A tomato stand. Was she kidding?
I had walked up and down our street and seen countless tomato stands. There were dozens of tomato stands, all selling the exact same products, of the exact same quality, at the exact same price. The only difference from stand to stand was the networking ability of the sellers – each one hoping his friends would buy from him what they could buy from the next guy two feet over.
I asked my young friend to chase something new, and she asked me for what was safe. While I saw the track bags as an imaginative solution to an existing problem, she saw them as a risk. For her, opportunity was not rooted in a strong business plan; it was found on the vegetable stand-lined road the majority of her community had followed.
Throughout history, we have seen time and again that people follow courage and innovation over information and power. Within every Kenyan child, God has placed the potential to be a world changer. They are smart and determined, ready to step up and lead their nation. But bold leadership will require strong character. Changing their world will begin with changing themselves.
The mission of Canopy Life Academy is clear: to be a creative learning community focused on cultivating character and unleashing imagination in Kenya’s young leaders. Our desire is that the Academy be a greenhouse rather than an assembly line. In an assembly line, success is measured in the speed and identical results of production. In a greenhouse, results are seen over time with careful concern given to the growth of each individual.
The greenhouse opens in January. Let’s grow!