Politics is a filthy business

The news headlines this week have been depressing:

1. The price of Kenya's staple food; maize flour has tripled since the beginning of the year. This is not due to a shortage of maize but worse, corruption and manipulation at a high level. When the food crisis was discussed in Parliament yesterday it transpired that the root cause of skyrocketing prices might well be down to MPs who have formed a cartel, buying maize from the National Cereal Produce Board then reselling it to millers at hugely inflated prices. The brave MP John Mbadi was thrown out of the house for making unsubstantiated accusations, then refusing to apologise:
'The leaders of this country are making our people suffer. Some members pushing for the Grand Opposition and some sitting here are behind this.'
There seems to be no resolution as yet.
The price of a bag of maize reached it's highest price at 120 Kenya shillings last week, whereas earlier in the year it cost less than 50 bob.

2. MPs have voted to block the taxation of their pay and allowances. Surprise, surprise. They are therefore denying the economy Kenya shillings 600 million per year. Kenyans are outraged but ultimately powerless though the media are ranting in fury. Their 'Grand Coalition' Government are a Grand disappointment, greedy and self serving. I question why Kenya goes on receiving so much foreign aid money when it continues to be run by a bunch of crooks. A precious few MPs have spoken out and said they are willing to be taxed but I doubt if they will ever have to put their money where their mouth is. There may be a demonstration led by civil society on Dec 12th if the MPs refuse to reconsider their position on the taxation issue. Watch this space if you have the stamina.

3. The clock is ticking on the implimentation of the Waki Report where those who masterminded post election violence at the beginning of the year will be brought to justice either in Kenya or at the Hague. Mr Justice Waki listed six cabinet ministers and five MPs as well as prominent businessmen then handed an envelope containing their names to Kofi Annan for safe keeping. December 17th is the deadline to put together an internal tribunal, if not Annan will pass the information on to the International Criminal Court at the Hague. MP William Ruto has threatened to leave Raila Odinga's ODM party if the Waki Report is implimented. Political wranglings continue as government officials disagree on a way to proceed on this matter. Most Kenyans (according to a Steadman poll) would like to see the Waki report implimented though many fear violence may flare up in the country again as a result. Kenyans also predict that there will be a repeat of violence at the 2012 election if the Waki Report is brushed under the carpet.

Expat Stereotypes - the Nairobi Craft Fair

Leonie has booked a stand at this year’s smart Nairobi craft market. She is now on absolute non speakers with the organiser, Beth after the former refused to give Leonie a discount on the astronomical price of hiring the tent space for the weekend. This was particularly galling as they even go to the same book club! Beth had been unbending three months ago when she said, as her pencil hovered over her clipboard poised to mark a tick or a cross;
‘Business is business and there are many others who will take the tent if you don’t.’
she went on;
‘After all Kate at Safari Bead and Geoff at Canvas Safari Essentials have both been begging for space for months and I am struggling to find room for them! As it is they’ll have to be squeezed in next to the port-a-loos and I know they are not going to be happy.’

Leonie had put together a stylish selection of some wrought iron loo roll holders decorated with metal painted flowers, very chic full skirts made of local African kanga fabric and white washed wooden candle holders. Most prices were around the 10,000 Kenya shillings (£80) mark. She was a bit cheaper last year, but decided to bump everything up when she saw that Sarah in the next door tent was charging exorbitant prices for her home furnishings that were actually made by the same side of the road tailor that Leonie used.

There was some kafuffle on the entrance gate when an outgoing shopper wearing a floral smock and Jesus sandals was complaining that there were in fact no local crafts at the craft market. Apparently she had had her heart set on finding affordable Christmas presents but had spectacularly failed to buy a thing. She even had the impertinence to enquire if any of the entrance money charged was going to be donated to a charitable cause.

Leonie’s stall was hectic, but mostly due to the traffic of friends stopping by to deliver cappuccinos and gin and tonics then lounge on chairs inside the tent gossiping endlessly about the other stall holders and which white Kenyans had deigned to come down from ‘up-country’ for the weekend. One mealy faced customer asked about the price of a toilet roll holder, but Leonie was too busy trying to catch the eye of a passing glamorous white Kenyan TV presenter and conservationist to respond. She always did think price tags so vulgar but on the other hand hated being interrupted by strangers.

At the end of the fair, Leonie was scratchy and exhausted after being on her feet all day in a baking tent that was un-shaded from the harsh Africa sun. She made a point of telling Beth that her tent had been like an oven, the new venue was not nearly as good as last years and she had heard from customers that the parking situation outside had been diabolical. Having just broken even by selling three skirts and a handful of candlesticks, Leonie swore that she would never do ‘BizBaz’ again but then remembered that she had said the same last year when rainwater had poured down the inside wall of her tent. At least the weather over the sale weekend had stayed dry; however the atmosphere at book club was going to remain distinctly frosty.

Kenya and the Credit Crunch

As a wave of Christmas fairs threatens to break over us Nairobi residents in the coming weeks, where (having been charged entrance) we will be bowled over by rafts of handmade sheepskin boots, chunky recycled wood furniture and quilts, jams, soft furnishings from Bali, oil paintings by expats, pricey jewellery, imported swimming costumes, Masai Christmas decorations and countless creative gift ideas using locally sourced materials, I wonder where we are left in light of the global economic crisis and the credit crunch here in Kenya?

The answer is - for now at least; we are doing pretty nicely thank you very much! The main reason for this, as far as I can see, is that ‘credit’ is not a facility that we have ever really enjoyed in East Africa. As a self confessed shopaholic I feel that by living in Africa I have had a narrow escape. Apart from annual visits to England where I shop like an absolute demon (sorry again to UK friends and family for my totally obsessive behaviour when I am home!), living here in Kenya we are positively restrained. It is true that there are ever more shops offering us a greater choice of things to buy locally but most of the time we resist because we know that the goods are twice the price of those available home (due to import taxes) and most of the time we simply can’t bear to pay over the odds.

Here we work with cash, old fashioned cheques and an overdraft limit of exactly 0.00. Go one pound/one hundred shillings into the red and you will be informed by your bank via text message to correct your balance the same day. We also pay the bank a monthly service charge for the pleasure of handling our money. Debts are not allowed except with prior approval and in those cases vast interest rates are charged (for example, mortgage rates are 12.5%). Of course it is possible to get a local credit card with very strict limits, but most keep these only for corporate use. When booking a holiday, the cash must be right there in your account before you even contemplate it. People here live within their financial limitations because there is little choice to do otherwise. The end of the month usually means cooking more pasta and surviving on store cupboard staples. As fuel and food prices rise we must adjust our budgets accordingly. You learn to stop writing cheques when your account gets dangerously low and everyone I know has been in a situation where they have had to put things back on supermarket shelves due to a shortage of cash in their wallet. There is no shame in this.

For now, the property market here is booming; apartment complexes and shopping centres are still popping up as if by magic. New roads are being built, businesses are expanding. (Oh, and I don’t want to rub it in but the sun is shining too now that the rains have passed!) I know that the economy here is regularly hammered; most recently by post election turmoil in January which put the country back a few years in terms of economic growth, but also by frequent foreign office travel advisories warning tourists to stay away for fear of terrorist attacks. Doing business in East Africa is fraught due to the lack of infrastructure, specialist skills and an unhealthy abundance of corruption but for now, being in an ‘emerging market’ seems for once, very much the place to be.

Make do and mend

The last week has been busy. I tentatively tell you what has been going on, as when I do this there will inevitably be a caustic comment in my inbox about how terribly mundane my life is - but what the hell... Time has been filled by the following:

1. Making party bags from stiff recycled wrapping paper and staples - I don't know what prompted that rather ill advised brain wave, probably just an urge to show off. My middle daughter had a birthday party at home at the weekend. I was still icing the cake when the first guests arrived. We had booked a very nice entertainment guy who was to arrive with games to capture the imaginations of 20 children, only he forgot to bring any games and instead of the promised tug of war rope and face paints said 'I have it all up here' tapping his head. We negotiated around this small crisis by sending out a third party to pick up his things from wherever he had left them and in the end it was all a great success, if a bit frenetic. My barbeque lunch idea was fine until I panicked over my food poisoning track record and so burned all the chicken legs and sausages to a charcoal crisp.

The party was followed by a visit from the ex-nightwatchman and his bright son who are in need of their monthly money for food and rent. Their predicament was humbling as usual.

2. Selecting a new shower, tiles and bathroom basin in the Industrial area. We had to do this since our downstairs bathroom has been hacked to pieces due to a drain blockage. The sourcing of parts took hours and hours and lots of chin scratching. I never knew that it was possible to spend £2,000 on bathroom fittings?! We managed to spend a lot less but my eyes were opened!

3. Searching for gas. There has been a domestic gas shortage. We buy cylinders and apparently Kenya ran out of the chemical you put in them to make the gas smell. First one of our bottles ran out and it took a week to get a new one, then our second spluttered out just as the last party guests were leaving. I feel I have spent the last ten days driving around Nairobi with a gas bottle jammed into the passenger foot well, begging for gas. It was a great opportunity for independent traders to hike up their prices for the rare commodity. Some were charging 1,000 (£8.50) Kenya shillings extra per bottle.

4. Sourcing fabric for the kindergarten ballet troop Christmas concert costumes. I did this, got a splitting headache in the process and now have to hem 15 pieces of multicoloured fabric and now have to hem then put little bits of elastic on each. The ballet teacher is talking about sequins but I am pretending not to hear her!

5. Painting props for my friend's 40th 'Desperate Housewives' birthday party, a life size white pillared portico and American style post box. I keep teasing her that she has gone all 'bridal' on me over organising her party. She's reluctantly admitted it's true. She has bought a new dress and won't show it until her husband until the 'big night'.

6. Mending sheets and pillow cases. Our wedding sheets and pillowcases are officially ten years old now. While I was machining a double sheet that had worn thin then almost split from end to end I wondered, does anyone actually mend bed sheets these days?

7. Writing and receiving reviews of opening chapters for fiction novels and short stories 'www.youwriteon.com'. Getting a review on your own work is gut wrenching but lovely when they are complimentary. I also really enjoy reviewing the work of others. If, by any chance, you are curious and would like to read my two opening novel chapters then log onto the 'youwriteon' website and search for 'africaexpat' for a novel entitled Africa Expat Wives Club. Or maybe I should just post it up here - I'm not sure I dare.

Waki Report - debate rages on

Politicians are still shifting position on the contraversial Waki Report, which is a document compiled by Waki and his committee that has dared to point the finger directly at certain politicians, officials and businessmen for masterminding the post election violence that raged throughout Kenya in January. Kofi Annan still holds the 'envelope' containing the names of those perpetrators. People are obviously sweating.

Almost every politician has changed their stance on the 'implimentation' of the report at least once. Kiss FM Radio djs were joking earlier this week,
'send them to the Hague - the Hague says that they are ready for them!' They then read a list of names of Kenyans currently awaiting or in the midst of trails over there stating the date they arrived and the fact that there is no date set for their return.
'I think these politicians are realising that if they have to go to the Hague they will probably never come back'.

The public would like to see the implimentation of the Waki Report 'in toto', because this would for once and for all quash the culture of impunity for those wealthy Kenyans who always seem to slip the net and walk away from grand scale corruption scott free. Yesterday I saw a pick up truck whose windscreen was emblazoned with the word 'WAKI'. Watch this space.

Remembrance Sunday

Just thought I would quickly tell you about going to the Remembrance Day Sunday at the Nairobi War Cemetery before it becomes so late that it’s irrelevant (if it doesn’t seem so already).

For the past three years we’ve gone along to the War Cemetery on the edge of Jamhuri Park for the Remembrance Service as a family. It doesn’t take long and it’s close to our house. Lots of smart uniforms and medals are on display as various representatives from all sorts of far flung regiments take turns to lay their wreaths. The red jacketed brass band are a highlight, not least because of their exotic ‘Colobus monkey’ fur hats. (jet black with a swathe of extra long white fur). Last year a friend came over to us and said, ‘oh, what are you doing here? Do you have an army connection?’ My husband and I managed not to throw him a left hook for his impertinence.

This year it was with some trepidation that we set forth, the reason being that it was raining; torrentially. We were a vaguely obliged to go because a ‘first timer’ wanted to accompany us with his children. He ‘Googled’ the service as we couldn’t remember when it started (but did remember being a tiny bit late last year) and he told us ten sharp was the correct time. After various anxieties over what everyone in our family was going to wear (my eldest detests her raincoat for some reason), we settled on trousers, raincoats, boots and a poppy each. We drove to the venue at top speed, windscreen wipers flying but sadly, 10am was too early (we weren’t due there til 1.25). We stood with our friend for twenty minutes during a precious break in the weather while nothing happened but the dampness from the grass soaked gradually into my high heeled boots and my youngest said ‘I want to get back in the car’ repeatedly. The rain really came down when the ambassadors, church leaders and uniformed servicemen arrived at 10.30am. The wind turned umbrellas inside out.

Meanwhile the old folk/heroes in their smartest Sunday best were getting soaked. There was no shelter so many of them grabbed spare plastic chairs and held them up over their heads but as the rain was falling horizontally it was not much use. The Colobus monkey wearing band members stood sentry under the four stone pillars that form part of the memorial, but there was no roof to shelter them so it was pretty hopeless. I felt sad for the elderly man wearing a leather beaded cap, a full length hand woven wool coat, sandals and a beaded leather satchel in the shape of the African continent, who was being buffeted by the weather too. The guy in the snazzy white uniform consisting of short sleeved shirt with gold lapels, white trousers and French Foreign Legion style hat was in danger of entering a wet t-shirt competition.

Finally the right people were standing ready in their allocated squares marked carefully out on the ground with white string with name plates too. I noticed that Raila Odinga had a man behind to hold an umbrella over his head – also, he looked a lot shorter in real life (as is usually the case when you see a ‘seleb’).

All the children were all very good about being wet up to their trousered knees, though I had to end up carrying the youngest (3) and she decided to take my poppy pin and start to jab it into my arm at intervals, watching my face for a reaction. I thought; ‘remember how awful it was for those soldiers in the trenches in the wet and mud – much worse than standing in the rain for an hour’. My husband said, ‘all those old servicemen are going to get pneumonia’. We scowled at some late comers but only because we were thinking, lucky them! Funnily enough there was no sign of that chap from last year’s service who questioned our attendance. Perhaps he was put off by the weather. What a wimp.

A somewhat faltering writing career...

It’s a bit of a struggle this writing business. How many people have said ‘you might be the next J K Rowling’ – bless them. I love them for saying that but I’m beginning to realise that becoming the next JK Rowling is highly unlikely! As a sort of cathartic process, I thought I’d run you through the past year or of my non existent writing career. Not that you are particularly interested but because it may help if you are struggling as much as I am. (plus of course it’s a great help to me to spew and spill and share in true blog style).

Summer 2007
Contacted a company called ‘The Friday Project’ who specialise in publishing books by authors who they have discovered on the web (including but not only blog books). They said they liked my blog, they said it was fab. We even met in their offices. They said ‘prepare a sample chapter’ and suggested, after a little exchanging emails that the ‘memoir’ genre sells best. In the following months I did this, but it (admittedly) wasn’t very good so they said ‘try again with more of a story arc’.

Bearing in mind that up until this point I had no idea what a sample chapter should comprise or what a story arc was so I did a bit of googling on exactly how to write a book and a book proposal.

January 2008
By some miracle my blog was picked up by The Times newspaper in UK. They quoted the blog for three consecutive days in relation to their coverage of the flawed Kenya election, then followed it up with an interview. They donated some money to the Kenya Red Cross after some persuasion. These were heady times when radio stations, television networks and yes, even a literary agent got in touch. The stuff of dreams for a blogger hoping to be discovered!

The literary agent (there was only one - not as many as I’d hoped), was from a 100 year old, very big/established firm in London. She suggested I write a commercial fiction novel called ‘The Africa Expat Wives Club’ the backdrop being expat life and possibly the election crisis but with a strong story thread. At this point I did not know what ‘commercial fiction’ meant and I had never considered tackling fiction. However, after reading books about writing books and undeterred by lack of experience or training I put a storyline together. She said, ‘think big story, cross colour love affair, best friends making a pact’. I thought, oh god – I am SO not Danielle Steel but I’ll see what I can do. I couldn’t bring myself to do love affairs. The agent said my story line was ‘episodic and lacked a narrative thread’. I begged to try again and submitted a second story idea. At this point she said politely but firmly, ‘I think I will bow out at this stage’
So there it was, chance of a lifetime – gone!!

August 2008
Picking myself up off the floor, I joined a writing course here in Nairobi to learn more about fiction writing. It was tricky (see previous posts), my tutor was a diva but I learned tons, made friends and felt a better person for doing it.

I thought, just because this literary agent doesn’t want my story, I’ll try to use my new found skills to think of a better one. By coincidence, The Friday Project got in touch again and said how was my story going? I told the agent of my plan and she said, sounds great – I’ll give you until November to write a really good proposal and sample chapters. So, I did this. Asked/persuaded my new writing group friends if we could ‘workshop’ one another’s writing – which we did/are doing.

November 2008
To cut a long story short, I sent the smoking hot proposal for a book to be written from the point of view of an expat wife and of her housekeeper. It was going to be funny and it was going to transport credit crunch readers into a different world. I said to the editor ‘sample chapters coming tomorrow’ but before I had a chance to send them I got a response,
‘Thanks but my bosses say we are not accepting anything in this genre, we think the market is already too saturated with this sort of thing. Sorry.’

So here I am, back on the floor again. All I really wanted to do when starting the blog was accurately describe 21st century expat life in Africa in an amusing/not too moralising or over romanticising way. Instead I am stuck in a loop, putting in endless hours on my computer, achieving nothing and more to the point, earning nothing. (I know, poor, poor me!!). It is hard treading water like this and you wonder why the hell you are doing it. I was never going to be a brilliant artist willing to suffer for my craft – commercial success was always my goal! It's now feeling oh so out of reach.

In order to try and keep positive, I’ve joined a website called http://www.youwriteon.com/. Set up by major publishing houses Random House, Orion and one other, I forget which. (There’s a Harper Collins equivalent called ‘Authonomy’). Aspiring readers upload their first 6,000 to 10,000 words of their novel. Fellow members review it and in turn you review other people’s work. The idea is that after at least five reviews you might make it into the 'youwriteon' ‘top ten’ then get reviewed by professional editors from major publishing houses. If they like your work, they might give you a contract. It’s all a bit of fun really. My expectations have lowered dramatically since I learned a little bit about how damn hard the industry is – not to mention how hard it is to actually write well!

Oh JK Rowling – you are clever! Well done, well done, you are certainly one in a million! Suggestions for 'Africa Expat Wives Club' the novel please!!

A collective sigh of relief.

Yesterday, the national holiday that was called 'Obama Day' was a little bit strange... but sort of in a good way. Many were very glad about Obama being voted President elect but bemused by the prospect of a day off. The initial reaction to a holiday being called was,
'Oh God, not another one'
We had Moi day on the 10th October and Kenyatta Day on 20th (or was it the other way round?).

Some worried that Kenya would be laughed at for announcing a public holiday that would cost the country a lot of money that it can ill afford to spare. Others applauded the clever move to winkle Kenya into the international press on the crest of the Obama wave - and this time show the country in a positive light for a change. Lost revenue in having another public holiday may be compensated by good/priceless worldwide PR.

Peter Kimani in todays Standard 'seriously speaking' page, amusingly wrote:
'I shall desist from implying that Kenyans ni watu wa kuregarega (people who like idling). Neither shall I imply that Kenyans are party animals who look for the least excuse to make merry. What we need to do is recognise the historicity of the moment and make plans to gazette Nov 5th as Obama Day.'
Fine, I say, but for heavens sake, scrap Moi Day!

As I drive about Nairobi lost in thought between school runs and wonder at the fabulous week we've had with Lewis Hamilton winning the Grand Prix and Obama the American Presidential election, I think of how this year began so dreadfully in Kenya, and how everyone here deserves a boost and some really good news. I wonder if the atmosphere has changed for the better for everyone and whether I can actually hear a collective sigh of relief not just in Kenya but across the world.

Obama Victory!

I must admit to feeling goosebumps and perhaps even a threatening tear or two when I learned of Barack Obama's election win this morning. How momentous, how symbolic, how wonderful that he won with such a landslide! It felt like you had to pinch yourself to believe it's true.

The significance of his victory is enormous not least to Kenyans who say,
'One of our own has risen up and won the most powerful seat in the world! We are very proud.'

Kenya celebrates. In Kisumu it's wild. Residents stayed up all night in the Kenyatta City Stadium to watch results coming in on massive screens donated for the occasion. Now Mwai Kibaki has announced tomorrow a public holiday in Kenya. Statesment plan to visit the city and throw a proper party African style with food and drink for everybody, dancing and singing. A celebration will be very welcome after a year which began with the city being hammered hard by post election violence in January.

I gather that Kisumu airport will now be renamed 'Barack Obama International Airport'. It's good that Kenya and the western city of Kisumu are receiving tons of positive worldwide press coverage today. It puts the country back on the map after such a disasterous start to the year where it was all pictures of machetes and rioting.

A lot of respect has been given to John McCain for conceeding his position so nobly - an example that can be held up for African leaders to follow in the future. A proper, democratic election took place. No fighting, no manipulating of results, no bloodshed.

Everyone is bursting with pride and hope. The feeling is that if a half Kenyan man can become President of the United States then the sky is the limit for everyone.

Obama Fever in Kenya

Election fever continues to grip Kenya as we wait to see if Barack Obama will make it to the White House. We have fake 'Obama' dollar notes being sold on the side of the road in Nairobi and 'Obama' mini buses/matatus with his name and photo emblazoned on rear windscreens.

Kenyans are so proud of their link to Obama. Over the past months his granny in Kisumu has asked for, and had been given, extra security due to the sharp increase in numbers of visitors and well wishers to her home since the American Presidential race began. Today a couple of comedians have set up their own version of an Obama v McCain polling station in Kisumu and apparently the international press are having a field day as Kisumu residents queue up to cast their very own Obama vote. Not many takers for McCain.

Caroline Matoko on Kiss FM said she hopes, of course, that Obama gets in but since Americans have been quoted saying that Africa is a country and Nigeria a continent, she cannot put all her faith in the US voters.

I feel for McCain and Obama during this crazy time of racing around campaigning. They must be exhausted. McCain must be on some sort of drug to stand the pace and by the way, how old is his wife? Thirty years younger than him? Or is that his daughter standing behind?

It's difficult not to get swept up in it all. However, it's hard because before the Kenya election, many felt Raila Odinga would be Kenya's version of Obama. He too was promising change. The race looked to be almost a 50/50 tie (like in the US) but then things descended into chaos, violence, bloodshed so in light of that and the fact that the leaders in Kenya are still bickering over who was responsible and shirking any responsibility for the violence, I'm afraid I'm a bit off politicians for the time being...

Kenyan Politicians unite!... in condeming the Waki Report

Fortunately yesterday we had no power at home. If I had been able to get near my computer I would have not been able to stop myself from launching a tirade on Kenyan politicians who have over the past few years tried their hand at not only politics but it seems grand theft too and according to the Waki Report, the masterminding of civil unrest with accompanying violence/murder to boot. Anyway, here is a hopefully more tempered blog post on the subject.

For the past week local newspapers have been reporting on the fact that PNU and ODM MPs are for the first time uniting (in spite of their political affiliations) over their condemnation of the Waki Report which, if implimented, could lead to a good handful of them going to jail. Of course, Kenyan politicians have established a tradition of acting with impunity so any case regarding their involvement in post election violence will be unlikely ever to reach a courthouse. Also, if every single guilty party were fairly tried and sentanced, frankly, there would probably be no members of parliament left. So what is the answer? Our house helper says;

'Kenyans are unhappy about their politicians rejecting the Waki report, they want to see justice' but since when has what Kenyans want ever mattered?

Raila Odinga and one or two others have stood apart to defend the Waki Report and say that it must be implimented. Yesterday Raila said:
'We do not want to see Kenyans fight again. This is a matter we must face courageously and put to rest.'
but other politicians argue that if they were at fault, they were simply acting for their leaders.

Another leading story concerns The Global Fund who have donated billions of shillings to Kenya over the years to finance the fight against Aids, tuberculousis and malaria. They have given seven payments but the last has not yet been full accounted for. Shs 13 billion (£1 million) has somehow gone missing and the Medical Services and Public Health ministries are busy shifting blame between themselves and trying to bury the scandal.

The Global Fund had its suspicions when, in 2003, they delayed giving $37 million due to claims of corruption in the National Aids Control Council. The withheld funds were later released but the Global Fund urged officials to track the money more closely in future. Now The Global Fund has, quite rightly, suspended its support once more but it is ordinary Kenyans who will finally feel the pinch when subsidised medical treatment is no longer available.


Fancy Dress Part 2
Anyway, to switch to lighter matters: Fancy dress.

I managed to compromise on making a rather simply designed cardboard pirate hat for daughter no 2. out of a stiff paper bag, which I painted mat black with a skull and crossbones. Understandably she was rather skeptical about my creation but tactfully wore it for approximately five minutes.

Daughter no 3. wore a fabric witch hat that I made for the eldest years ago with black leggings a pink t-shirt with a cobweb on it and held a toy broom. It was fortunate that I didn't make too much effort on her part because on arrival at school, she saw that her best friend had failed to dress up at all (her mum forgot), so my daughter threw down the broom and took off the witch hat immediately then refused to put them back on, even for the fancy dress parade.

After five nights of tears with daughter no 1 over what she might wear for the 'fairy tale' themed bonfire night I was at my wits end. At one point she thought of wearing the silver dress that I made her last year for 'Out of Space' bonfire party, then she would be; 'the magic mirror' from Snow White. It seemed like a good idea until she said she wanted me or Dad to craft a wooden, octagonal full length frame then spray-paint it gold so it looked exactly like the one in her book. I made an executive decision and bought 5 lenghts of blonde-ish hair from the local supermarket where one whole aisle is entirely devoted to hair (only in Nairobi) and plaited it together for Rapunzel. We had a suitable princess dress, so after a couple of adjustments that was no problem. After a few more tears over the french plait I did in Daughter no 1's hair in order for the Rapunzel plait to look convincing, we found that there were hundreds of Rapunzels at the party in the end but it didn't matter. My daughter felt she fitted in perfectly, everyone was happy and best of all, I didn't have to do any sewing!

Roll on next year!
(but before that I have somehow got myself roped into being responsible for putting together fifteen kindergarten 'rainbow' ballet outfits for the christmas concert, plus collecting money from all the mums to pay for them. Oh heavens!).