Sacrificed innocence, child labour in the heart of Nairobi
Brenda Wairimu, 15,* (not her real name) says every day, she has to get up at 4.30am first to study for an hour, after which she leaves home in search of work.
According to the latest statistics from ILO, nearly 1 in 10 children worldwide are engaged in child labour.
Child labour encompasses any work that is mentally, physically, socially, or morally harmful to children.
It is during childhood when dreams should be nurtured and education pursued, yet for many children, this is not the case. As the harsh realities of child labour unfold, many Kenyan children are compelled to assume roles far beyond their years, driven by life's most unforgiving challenges.
We visited Mukuru kwa Njenga slum in Embakasi South Constituency in Nairobi County, and came across young children whose survival dictates that they work, their childhoods overshadowed by adult responsibilities.
The first stop is Kware, Mukuru in Josam Investment building. To access the building, we hop, skip and jump to avoid stepping on mud and water, thanks to the rains that keep on pounding.
At house number 206, we are ushered in. We meet Brenda Wairimu* (not her real name), her mother, sister, and niece. In the one-room house where we later find out that they are being hosted by another family (a single mother with two children), there is a makeshift bed, a black and red couch, and a rack against the wall for storing dishes.
"The family is currently in the village, but when they come back, we sleep on the floor," Brenda says.
Fifteen-year-old Brenda Wairimu* (not her real name), washes clothes at Kware in Mukuru, Nairobi on April 25, 2024.
Photo credit: Bonface Bogita | Nation Media Group
The environment already tells of a family whose hope lies on people's goodwill. Brenda’s mother who is suffering from blood cancer is lying on the bed, one of her legs is swollen.
The 15-year-old, tells me that every day, she has to get up at 4.30am first to study for an hour, after which she leaves home in search of work.
"It is my prayer and wish that I become an oncologist one day when I grow up," she says.
We leave the home and walk to different places around Mukuru and Imara Daima, where Brenda gets work. The roads are in a terrible state, a mixture of water and mud and sludge from nearby dumpsites.
"Every day is different," she says, "On a good day, I will wash clothes for Sh100 and dishes for a pay of Sh50. The time I spend washing clothes depends on the load, which ordinarily takes me an hour while dishes take me around 30 minutes."
She tells us that there are times when she will work, only for her employer of the day to chase her away, failing to pay her. Sometimes, she is short-changed.
Hope for the Form One student who should resume school in May lies on thin ice since not only did she not clear first-term fees, her pay is being depended on for her mom’s drugs, shopping and offsetting debts.
Unlike Brenda, Derrick Otieno, 17,* (not his real name) did not continue with his schooling after Class Eight. Despite the 100 per cent transition policy by the government, lack of school fees for even joining a day school made him shelve his academics.
We find Derrick arranging firewood in a store owned by a friend's parents. He is not wearing any protective gear. His hands have blisters and injuries.
"I'm used to this," he begins. "It is because of the nature of the work and will earn Sh50. There is no day that I'm guaranteed of work, actually, most of the times, like yesterday, we have to sleep hungry if I did not make anything the previous day and mum also did not have anything."
It is for this reason that he seeks work in various places every day. "By 6am I'm up and I will leave the house at around 7am. There are some jobs that I'm called to do like transporting foodstuffs with a bicycle, but those are once in a while. Many times, I have to hustle either by arranging firewood, unclogging trenches, pulling the cart, or carrying water," he says.
Derrick Otieno, 17,* (also not his real name) did not continue with his schooling after Class Eight. Despite the 100 per cent transition policy by the government, lack of school fees for even joining a day school made him shelve his academics.
Photo credit: Bonface Bogita | Nation Media Group
But he is paid either Sh50 or Sh100. "With that Sh100, I will buy cooking oil for Sh30, unga for Sh55, tomatoes and onions with the remaining money. There is no time I'm able to save," he adds.
Rose Ogutu, a village elder at Mukuru kwa Njenga, points out that challenges in the slum have exacerbated child labour in the area.
"Some of the businesses which we see these young children being employed into include selling peanuts, eggs, working in hotels, houses as helps and even entertaining chang’aa customers in dens," she reveals.
Derrick* arranges firewood in a store owned by a friend's parents.
Photo credit: Bonface Bogita | Nation Media Group
"These children come here and are subjected to manual labour and are paid only Sh100 or Sh150. In Mukuru, majority of the children put to work as child labourers are girls compared to boys, however, a big number of them are between 10 to 17 years, those that are supposed to be in Junior Secondary School (JSS)."
