“There are two tribes in Kenya, the rich and the poor” – Maina Kiai

I'm Makau, a resident of Kibera slums, working as a casual labourer in Industrial Area. A new month has just begun and, like many of my neighbours, it's back to our usual tactics of dodging the landlord. I leave the house at 5:15 a.m to both avoid the landlord and to make it to Industrial Area on time. Hopefully I’ll get picked to work for the day. I am in desperate need of that KES 200.

Using a matatu is a luxury so am obligated to walk for over 14 Kms to get to work, though I'm not assured of getting a job. It’s a gamble I make every day.

Its 7:30 a.m and I am with a hundred  or so other casual labourers outside a steel manufacturing industry. We have submitted our national identification cards and are hopeful that our names will be called among those who have been picked for the day, though only two out of every five guys will be selected so the chances are slim and sometimes you are forced to bribe the relevant authority to get the job.

Lucky enough, I am in today, got myself a day’s job. We are handed the safety gear and soon we are locked up in the factory, toiling our sweat off to only earn KES 200. Lunch time comes and I buy a banana, my stomach churns in pain since I didn’t have breakfast but that is all I can afford.

Lunch is soon over and we are back to work again and my day ends at 5 p.m, but before we get paid we are subjected to a thorough inspection to ensure that none leaves with any of the factory’s belongings.

As usual I walk back home, happy to have made KES 200. It isn’t much but enough to buy a day’s meal for my family.

With the rising cost of living I wouldn’t be able to buy much with the amount plus I have the pending rent issue to settle so my wife is forced to cook less for the children and I sometimes go hungry because I only eat if there’s enough left over.

Tomorrow the same cycle will repeat itself. Escaping from this lifestyle is a pipe dream, one that I have grown to forget. Living from hand to mouth is a reality for me, a bitter one if I must add.