The Fabric of Kenya

I was on a little break for the last two weeks. Doug and I got settled in our new place in Chicago, we rested up after a very intense few months in Kenya, spent some quality time together, got some great alone time in as well and got a chance to process the amazing adventure that we’ve been on the past few months. It was wonderful, although very chilly- it’s definitely still winter here in Chicago, and I haven’t felt my toes since we landed.

I’m not a big souvenir person, but I did want to take something home with me that captured the essence of Kenya and Kuria specifically. In a certain corner of the market gorgeous bolts of colorful fabrics with wild and whimsical patterns hanging in the tiny storefronts caught my eye day after day. This fabric is called a “kitenge”, pronounced ki-tan-gay and it is used as a wrap skirt, a headscarf (as shown on my friend Elizabeth below), a baby-carrier or to make a tailored dress, the Sunday-best variety. Kangas, which are also worn by women in Kenya are similar to kitenges, but kangas always include a border and a proverb and are thinner fabric than kitenges.

Christine and Elizabeth, Water/Sanitation Leaders

Kitenges (and kangas) are sort of the essence of Kenyan women. I began to feel an obsession coming on- I started noticing kitenges everywhere in the community- and I kept dreaming up projects that I could create using this brilliant fabric. I realized that this fabric would be my souvenir from my adventures in Kenya.

During my break, I ended up creating some sweet wall hangings and stitching up some bold decorative pillows from the kitenges, and I had a blast doing it. I imagine a quilt project sometime in the future too.

As I carefully cut from the colorful yardage I recalled all the stories of brave women I met, their struggles, their unrealized dreams due to limitations in their lives, their beauty and their bravery. I shed tears and whispered prayers for my friends. I remember the looks on their faces and the tears falling from their cheeks as they told me stories of their lives and then their huge teethy smiles when they talked about how things have changed since Nuru began in Kuria.

My new handmade décor, I realized, is my way of bringing the women of Kuria into my home- all they have taught me, their strength and their hopes and dreams. They inspire me every day to keep hoping and to keep fighting with them against extreme poverty.