Forget the stethoscope, just give me a computer

While her age mates are settling down to college life as freshmen, she is churning out the next generation of software developers at her very own Nairobi Dev School.

So far, 154 students have gone through the school, where they have been trained in programming and software development. The school is also attracting students from across the borders, with 44 students having come from South Sudan.

Martha Chelimo Chumo is only 20 and yet her innovative school has already attracted world attention. This year, she was nominated for the Anzisha Prize, an initiative of the African Leadership Academy that rewards young entrepreneurs who have developed and implemented innovative solutions.

The story of Ms Chumo actually starts with the release of the 2011 KCPE results.

Passing high school exams is serious business. Sometimes, it is a matter of life and death for students and their parents. The future, a good career, a good life often depends on it.

This is why there was a dance at her home in Nairobi when the results came out. She had scored A. She would proceed to university to pursue medicine, her career dream.

CHANGE OF DIRECTION

But then something happened. There is that interlude between results and joining college. She got a job as an intern with a local company. Working under the accountant, her job involved extensive use of the computer.

A new world opened for her. “I got hooked to the world of computer programmes. In a matter of weeks, I had decided I wanted to be a computer programmer. I wasn’t going to study medicine.”

Ms Chumo started exploring the possibility of switching from medicine to computer science at a local university but it was a shade too late. The Joint Admissions Board had spoken. At the very minimum, she would have to defer for a year.

In the meantime, she had saved some money to pursue an accounts course on a part time basis. She had paid the school fees and all that remained was to enrol for classes.

So here she was. Tuition fees all paid but the interest to pursue a course in accounts gone. It was time for her first fight.

“I went to the university and begged for a refund. I pleaded, cajoled and pleaded some more. In the end, they agreed to refund the fees I had paid.”

With some of the money, she bought herself a netbook. “I spent every free moment teaching myself and learning about programming online. I worked far into the night to the extent my family was wondering what it was that was keeping me awake into the wee hours of the morning.”

This far, her change of direction had remained clandestine. Then one evening at the family dinner table, she dropped the bombshell. She wasn’t going to pursue medicine. She wasn’t going to university. Not just yet, anyway. Dead silence. Everybody was shell shocked.

“I tried to explain to my mother and two siblings why I was no longer interested in medicine. They couldn’t understand. The following day, the entire clan was summoned to help talk sense into me. I knew that they had my best interests in their hearts. But this was about me, my life. I was not about to budge.”

Then something else happened. She applied and was given a scholarship by Depaul University in Chicago to study Computer Science. An exciting prospect. But the scholarship covered tuition only.

Without money for accommodation and living expenses, it was going to be a pretty tough call.

“The reality of circumstances was stark. My family could not afford to sustain me in college in the US. I would have to slave my way through school. I concluded that if I had to hustle, I was better off doing it here at home,” says Ms Chumo.

In the meantime, she applied and got into the Gnome Outreach for Women, a programme that aims to get more women in open source development. The programme linked her with a Redhat (world’s leading open source solutions provider) project for which she worked online from home as a junior developer.

VISA DENIED

Around this time, the next best thing happened to her. New York Hacker School, one of the most prestigious compute engineering schools, was offering a three-month course in programming.

“They have a system where you go online and they are able to assess your skills “live” as you develop a programme. I was accepted and they sent me invitation letter. All that was standing between me and Hacker School was a visa and a plane ticket.”

As a student at Kenya High, where her education was sponsored by Akili Dada, she had been to the US on student exchange programme so she did not expect any problem. But things had changed. She was over 18 and, therefore, an adult.

She wasn’t married. She didn’t have children. Briefly, she had no social ties to motivate her to return to Kenya. The visa officer made short work of her application. Denied.

“I couldn’t believe it. I sent e-mails to the Hacker School and wrote to everybody I could think of who could support my application. Three days later, I returned to the US embassy, to the same officer, armed with a heap of testimonials.

“So what has changed,?” the officer asked me, “You still have no husband, no child, no social ties.” Denied. It took him less than two seconds to shatter my dreams one more time.”

She recalls her ride back home from the embassy. She was angry. Very angry. Her indignation placed her on another unexpected path. If she couldn’t go to the hacker school in New York, the hacker school would come to Nairobi. This much she had decided by the time she got home in Upper Kabete.

On to the next challenge. Conservatively, she needed at least Sh2 million. She didn’t have a penny, and the money could only come from one source. A bank.

She visited banks. They listened to her. Told her how brilliant an idea it was. They threw in something about her being an exceptionally bright girl and sent her on her way. It finally dawned on her that no bank was going to put money on a 19-year-old girl’s fantastic dream.

Still determined, she embarked on online fund raising.

The school started with two class rooms off Kindaruma Road in July, last year. She quickly discovered that the greatest obstacle was rent. By the time the first class graduated, she had worked her way out of the rent problem. She borrowed premises within private institutions willing to accommodate her computers and students for three months.

“At Dev School, we are building a thriving tech industry in Africa by creating diverse and collaborative self-learning spaces. We have programmes for school children and post-secondary students.”

Children of between eight and 16 are taken through camps where they are introduced to computer programming and get to collaborate in projects. Post-high school students go through a three-month course in web and mobile development. The training is project based and gives learners practical skills. The school’s next intake is in December.

“We have partnered with Treehouse, an online learning platform, to give the trainees a chance to continue learning even after the course,” she says.

The school also undertakes client projects in building mobile and web apps, and solving local problems. “We are keen on using technology as a tool to create opportunities to do business in Africa,” she explains.

IDENTITY CRISIS

Born in Tot, in Kerio Valley, she recalls attending school there and carrying roasted cassava for lunch because of the distance from home to school. “Kerio Valley is a valley inside the Rift Valley,” she succinctly describes the difficult terrain of her birthplace.

She was later to move to Kitale after her parents, who were teachers, were transferred to what was a paradise on earth for a girl from the wilds of Tot. She joined Kitale Academy where she was not only the head girl but also topped the KCPE in Trans Nzoia in 2007.

She has happy memories of her days growing up in Kitale, memories that came to a grinding halt in December 2007 when violence broke out after elections.

Her mother, Florence Wambui, is Kikuyu, a community that was under siege in parts of the Rift Valley. The family had to evacuate to Nairobi and her mother got a transfer to Kabete Technical Training Institute.

“I have never undergone such an identity crisis. My mother was not safe in the Rift Valley because her name is Wambui. I was safe in the Rift Valley because my name is Chelimo. My mother would have been safe in Naivasha because her name is Wambui. I couldn’t have be safe in Naivasha because my name is Chelimo. How does a nation sink into this kind of madness?” she wonders.

Ms Chumo considers herself lucky to have had a sponsor for her secondary education and it pains her to think of those  whose dreams are shattered simply because of their backgrounds and an education system tilted in favour of the rich.

“Were it not for Akili Dada, I would not have gone to a top school.”

Her father died when she was seven. So she was brought up by her mother, who she describes as a super woman who combined the role of bringing up the family single handedly and going back to class to work her way up from a diploma to a Masters degree.

Her siblings are a sister, Eva Chebet, a student at Pwani University and brother David Kanda a student at Alliance High School.

GOING PLACES

The world is finally opening up for the girl from Tot. Over the last one year she has been to speaking engagements in programming conferences in France, Sweden, Germany, South Africa, Uganda and South Sudan. Her ultimate dream is to transform Nairobi Dev School to the MIT of Africa.

Outside the world of computers, she loves hockey, she is learning to play the guitar and reads anything from economics, African politics, history and philosophy.

She has a passion for farming too and believes the next big thing is agriculture,” If we go by current trends, more people will be living in urban areas. They will all need food. This is one area the youth should focus on. The trick is innovation and new technologies.”