In less than 24 hours, I found myself moving between what the world might consider two extremes, from deep poverty to extraordinary wealth.
- samhumangrp
- 1 minute ago
- 3 min read
I started the day with Nermine and Clarice, a Kenyan leader who was born and raised in one of the communities we were about to visit. We left from a five-star hotel, complete with a personal trainer, an endless buffet, and staff ready to assist with any request. Yet just 30 minutes away, Clarice was guiding us through the neighborhood she once called home.
Today, Clarice runs a nonprofit organization focused on helping women build careers in fields like sewing and handbag-making, creating alternatives to prostitution, which is one of the most common means of survival for women in the area. She knows the realities of this community firsthand and is deeply committed to expanding opportunities for women growing up in the same environment she did.
To help us move respectfully and safely, she arranged for two locals to walk with us through the neighborhoods.Nermine, who is Egyptian, blended in more easily, while I, at 5’10” and very blonde, was not exactly built for subtlety.”One of our guides had grown up as Clarice’s
neighbor and is now a photographer, working to document everyday life and stories from within the community.
Pictured below Clarice and I (Carley):
Homes were built from iron sheets, stacked closely together, sometimes connected only by a small ladder. The ground was muddy, with trash, sewage, and runoff water in places.
Overhead, tangled electrical wires stretched across the narrow pathways, and Clarice gently reminded me when to duck. Before we entered, she emphasized the importance of asking permission before taking photos, a sign of respect in a place where people are often photographed without consent.
At one point, we passed a group of men brewing homemade alcohol, something I had never seen before. Over what looked like an oversized stovetop, one man stirred a mixture of shredded paper or hay-like material with a large stick, while others drank from a shared aluminum container using long straws. When a photo was taken without permission, the group reacted with fear, and we quickly understood why. Brewing alcohol is illegal, and being documented could put them at risk. It was an important reminder that we were guests in a place where we did not fully understand the consequences of everyday actions.
Later, we were welcomed into a woman’s home. She had moved there from a rural village with her two children, hoping to create more opportunities for them. She spoke honestly about how hard it has been and said she has not yet found a clear path out, but her dream is simple and powerful. She wants her children to go to school, get an education, and have choices she never had. She is pictured in pink below.
We passed a number of unfinished concrete buildings. Clarice explained that some were started with outside funding but never completed due to a lack of long-term partnership or local follow-through. She spoke candidly about how short-term aid, without sustained collaboration, can leave behind what Nermine calls “the graveyard of good intentions.”
As we walked, people called out “mzungu,” a word for foreigners that can carry different tones depending on the context. We also rode on local motorcycle taxis,
which gave us a wider view of the area. The community was active and social, with people walking, talking, working, selling goods, and going about their day. One woman really wanted to sell me extensions for my hair, I should have done it ! Several people invited us into their homes, where as many as five people might share a single small room. Despite limited space, there was a clear sense of pride, hospitality, and kindness.
Clarice is deeply proud to be Kenyan. During our time together, she shared stories from her childhood and spoke about how grateful she is to have built a different life, while still returning often to spend time with her sister. Clarice is intelligent, confident, and grounded in her purpose. Her leadership and commitment to her community left a deep impression on me and challenged me to keep learning. Her work is not about rescue. It is about expanding access, dignity, and opportunity within her own community.
After leaving, Nermine and I flew back to the United States with a layover at Hamad International Airport in Qatar, often ranked among the most luxurious airports in the world. Walking through designer stores, past massive art installations and endless high-end options, I felt disoriented. Less than a day earlier, I had been carefully stepping over mud and sewage in narrow alleyways. The contrast was hard for my brain to process.
After leaving, Nermine and I flew back to the United States with a layover at Hamad International Airport in Qatar, often ranked among the most luxurious airports in the world. Walking through designer stores, past massive art installations and endless high-end options, I felt disoriented. Less than a day earlier, I had been carefully stepping over mud and sewage in narrow alleyways. The contrast was hard for my brain to process.
It is surreal to realize we all share the same planet, yet live in vastly different realities.
Experiences like this do not offer easy answers, but they do shift perspective. They highlight how uneven access to basics like clean water, education, and safety still is, and how much of the most meaningful work is already being led by people within these communities themselves.
The contrast is hard to comprehend and impossible to forget.If you would like to support the organization Clarice leads, you can learn more here:
Beci Build & Enlighten Communities Initiative:
