A day in the life of tenants in dense city estate

Martha Kilonzi, in her early 30s, has not met her landlord more than two months since she rented a single room in his flat.

Ms Kilonzi parts with Sh3,000 per month for the one-and-a-half by one-and-a-half-metre room in Nairobi’s densely populated Huruma estate.

According to her, a tenant in the ill-fated seven-floor flat that collapsed last week, the high rise building comprised 301 doors, or houses for that matter.

The Kenya Red Cross personnel who led the rescue and evacuation, however, disagree, putting the total occupancy at 198 households.

In these neighbourhoods, flats can go as high as 10 storeys, with each floor comprising up to 10 houses.

Bathrooms and toilets are communal, usually located at the extreme end of the floor. One will usually find a shared sink, mostly used to wash dishes, located at the balcony.

Households vary in size, from single tenants to extended families of up to seven, never mind the fact that the size of the room remains uniform in most cases.

Because of their relative comfort, single tenants, especially bachelors, are viewed with a degree of envy by their neighbours who have larger families.

It is not unusual for neighbours to “send on loan” a member of their family to the single tenant nearby, at times leading to unplanned marriages.

In some cases, neighbours with large families will deliberately encourage their teenage relatives to befriend their bachelor neighbours as a “decongestion” strategy.   

In Ms Kilonzi’s rather rare case, the houses on the doomed Huruma flat varied in size.

Because her unit was relatively smaller, her rent was Sh3,000 per month, as opposed to her “wealthier”  neighbours who paid as much as Sh4,500 to enjoy the comfort of more spacious rooms.

“Electricity was seriously rationed, the agent would switch it on in the early evening, usually at 7 pm, just to allow us to prepare supper and watch television for those who could afford it. He would switch it off at 10.30 pm on the dot high-school-style,” she says.

TEAM WORK
Because of the tight restrictions on electricity and the fact that most houses on the flats lack windows to let in natural light, it is not uncommon to encounter tenants using torches or cheap mobile phones better known as mulika mwizi to find their way around the buildings even during daytime.

In these neighbourhoods, be it Huruma, Kariobangi, Dandora, Kayole or Dagoretti, the use of electric iron boxes is banned purportedly due to their high electricity consumption rate.

Landlords in most cases will ensure the electricity wiring system is installed in such a way that it automatically switches off whenever one tries to switch the electric iron box on. 

The option for most families is to invest in charcoal iron boxes or take their clothes to the numerous dhobis (makeshift laundries) scattered within the neighbourhoods.

Because of the insecurity in most of these densely populated low-end areas, people prefer living on the upper floors.

“By the time robbers reach your floor, the alarm would definitely have been raised. Thieves here prefer the lower floors,” says a long-term resident of a flat in Huruma, who did not want to be named.

The lower floors, too, have their advantages. For one, it is easier to move into houses and, more importantly, it is much easier to move out bulky household items like sofa sets during times of disaster.

Cleaning of shared facilities such as bathrooms, toilets or dish washing areas is a shared responsibility.

The women on each floor usually draw up the duty roster, and also enforce compliance by reporting uncooperative tenants to the agent for disciplinary action, which can be as drastic as eviction.

THE OTHER LIFE
Quarrels are commonplace in these buildings. The source of the quarrels will range from one’s husband or child overstaying in the communal bathroom or toilet, one’s laundry occupying most of the clothes hanging line, or even the theft of one’s undergarments from the line.

Every so often, some of the tenants have to act as arbitrators.

But for Kenyans near the bottom of the economic pyramid — who consider themselves lucky to escape from slums — neighbourhoods such as Huruma become the better option.

For one, everything goes in Huruma and similar areas. Essential goods such as maize flour, sugar, salt, cooking fat, kerosene and even washing detergents are sold in the smallest quantities.

With as little as Sh30, it is possible for a family of four – man, wife, a child and a house-help, usually a close relative, to have a “decent” meal of ugali, sukuma wiki and a sprinkling of chicken heads or matumbo.