Can a water system be beautiful?

Minova Water System

In November of 2011, 7 communities in the Tuungane program came together to address a common problem: access to potable water on the outskirts of Minova, DRC.  After a thorough analysis of demand, a survey of water sources, and a community led design process, we arrived at a solution: a gravity fed water distribution system, combining 13 water sources into 27 kilometers of pipe, 2 water tanks, and delivered through 21 water kiosks located throughout the communities.  This is the largest water system to date for the Tuungane program in South Kivu and will give the communities access to clean water.

Typical Water Tank, South Kivu, DRC

For many projects of this scope, NGOs (or sometimes the government), will place signage of sorts on the project site with their name, logo and contact info.  This increases the visibility of the organization to both communities and donors.  It also provides a self-acknowledged accomplishment on the part of the donor.  “We built this.  Look at all the work we have done.”  Often with water systems, a large water tank is the perfect canvas for such signage.

Unfortunately, such signage places ownership of the project in the hands of the organization, not in those of the people.  It also reinforces the sense that Africa is a place of dependence, devoid of its own entrepreneurial drive.  For this project, nothing could be farther from the truth.  The communities around Minova organized themselves through elections, guided our IRC staff to the water sources, and decided upon the location of the water kiosks.  As the construction coordinator, I wanted to find a way to for the community to create its own signage – for its own project.

Innocent in his studio

Innocence, a tall, shy, mid 20 year old is a painter and sculptor in the Biglimani neighborhood of Minova, one of the seven communities working to construct this massive water system.  Most of Innocence’s work is in signage.  He has done work for local churches, schools and storefronts in and around Minova.  He also draws many portraits and landscapes for sale and for his own pleasure.  I asked Innocence if he would be interested in painting the community’s water tank as a piece of public art.  We briefly discussed his fee for the work (which I placed in the contract going out for bids from contractors) and he produced this rendering: a series of colored stripes that frame an image of a man drinking fresh, clean water.

Water Tank Rendering, Innocent

In his drawing, there is no mention of IRC, no mention of Tuungane, no mention of who funded the project – only color and design created by the community’s own artist. This past Thursday, we held a meeting with the community to discuss the details of the project and presented Innocence’s drawing.  I could see the look in many of the committee members’ eyes as they began to visualize a water system that is unique, beautiful, and most importantly, theirs.

Water tank painting suggestions

I have begun to incorporate paint in the financial estimates for all of our water projects; and I’ve instructed each of my technical supervisors in Kalehe, Mwenga, Uvira and Walungu to seek out local artists, craftsman, and others in these communities.  So far, these proposals have been well-received. Often though, we receive comments such as “Please tell us what to paint.”  The creative drive has to come from the community, not from me or my office.  However, in order to spur the creative juices of the communities, I have produced this small document that illustrates various options (colors, text, hand prints, scenery).  We will be presenting this page to communities that show interest creating something unique.

NGOs and developers often overlook the importance of art to the success of their projects. Art can in fact drive success by reinforcing cultural pride, unity, and ownership.

Construction of the water system in Minova will begin within the next month.  The contractor will determine the timeline for construction, but we have estimated three to four months.  I will be following this project throughout construction, and look forward to posting updates on the construction and the work of Innocence.

Minova Water System

Typical Water Tank, South Kivu, DRC

Innocent in his studio

Water Tank Rendering, Innocent

Water tank painting suggestions

Designing a HydroElectric Dam in Kalehe, DRC

The Tuungane project has been in operation for the past 5 years and is entering its 2nd phase. Phase 1 saw certain strategies in financing, construction and community involvement that have been adjusted and improved. Almost all of the large Tuungane 1 projects have been completed – but the most complicated one has yet to break ground: construction of a hydroelectric plant in Kalehe Centre.

Kalehe, view of Lake Kivu

Spanning the entire length of Lake Kivu’s west coast, Kalehe is among the most beautiful regions in all of South Kivu. The beauty of the mountain views are surpassed only by the picturesque islands and peninsulas that define the water’s edge.
After meetings and elections, the community of Kalehe Centre indicated that its biggest need was for consistent electricity. Kalehe is the least electrified region in South Kivu, which is surprising, since it rests between the two largest cities in the Eastern Congo, Bukavu and Goma. The community leaders decided to use their $80,000 grant for construction of a hydroelectric plant, and pointed the IRC team to an ideal site: a waterfall located 2km outside of the town center. Upon inspection of the site, it was clear that construction of such a system had once been attempted. The crumbling foundation of a turbine house along with some overgrown canals exist adjacent to the 10m high waterfall. It is unclear if the project had ever been completed, or if construction had halted at the start of the wars, fifteen years ago.
This project marked a large jump in complexity for the Tuungane team. Some of the other Tuungane communities had chosen to use their funds for electricity, but those projects had required only a connection to existing electrical lines. This project would require expensive machinery, substantial planning, and a technical expertise that was not currently available. The IRC team explained the difficulty of the project, and proposed to the community that they build a school or market instead; but the community of Kalehe Centre was unwavering.

These meetings occurred two years ago. Since then, the project has moved forward in stops, starts and tangents. Feasibility studies have been done, quotes for turbines have been sought and nearby existing hydroelectric dams have been studied. The estimated budget for the turbine and 2km of electrical wires alone have topped $100,000; putting more and more pressure on the community to finance the difference.
Upon arriving at my office for my first day in Bukavu, I was told that this project that would become my “mal de tête”, and was handed a folder that contained a pile full of papers:

a narrative listing the power needs (the demand),
a photograph of a hand drawn site plan,
a quote for a turbine with technical specs,
some sketches of a reservoir and dam,
a budget with little correlation to anything,
a feasibility study warning that “this project is not viable”.

I began by reviewing the energy demand of the community. The people’s primary concern was servicing the local hospital. They also wanted current for market areas and for a few mills to process cassava into FuFu, a staple dish of the Congolese diet. It was estimated that their electrical demand was approximately 130Kw. The cheapest turbine option would provide a maximum current of 32kw, so the math was obvious: we would be able to

Initial Scheme: 20m wide dam

provide current only to the hospital. I asked for a complete survey to be done of the hospital’s power needs: number of light bulbs, incubators and anticipated additions of equipment. Our estimates came to 27kw, putting the hospital’s power needs within reach.

The proposed development of the waterfall site showed substantial construction. A 20m wide water dam would not only require enormous quantities of raw material, but it would not take advantage of any of the existing canals and terrain. I began with this simple sketch to show how this large construction can be consolidated into a few components. This sketch illustrates my basic strategy for the project, and within a few weeks, we began moving towards a complete design.

Revised Scheme

Upon choosing the appropriate turbine, we began to size each of the components: the dam itself (technically a “wier”), canals, settling pond, final conduit, and the turbine house. Each of these components were sized in relation to the flow rates of the river. This ensures that the flow to the turbine will remain perfectly at the turbine’s maximum capacity during both the rainy and dry seasons.

As I began to develop the construction documents, amid numerous miscommunications with the community’s contractor, I opted to place site photos directly into the construction set. By drawing on top of these images to create colored diagrams, the plans are clarified and references are made to each construction detail.

Kalehe, view of Lake Kivu

Initial Scheme: 20m wide dam

Revised Scheme: Weir, Reservoir, Turbine House

Construction Document 1

Construction Document 2

Construction Document 3

Construction Document 4

Construction Document 5

Construction Document 6

Construction Document 7

In creation of the final budget for the project, the total has risen to $170,000. Amazingly, the community has not only committed to contributing $10,000 worth of manual labor, but they also reached out to a local leader who has committed to donating $30,000 towards the project. Further, two of the sub communities in Kalehe offered to forgo their plans for construction of schools, and allocate their grants towards the balance of the budget.
Currently, we are waiting on the community to write a formal proposal. Soon after, funds will be released, orders will be placed, and ground will be broken.
This project will provide a fascinating construction process. A waterfall will have to be diverted and controlled, and each component must be constructed with extreme precision. I look forward to guiding the construction of this project – and of course, to providing consistent updates on our progress.

Designing A Flexible Teacher Learning Center

In February of 2012 the project leaders from IRC’s OPEQ program (Opportunite Pour une access plus Equitable de base de Qualite – which roughly translates to “access to education”), identified the need for the construction of a series of Teacher Learning Centers. These buildings will serve as administrative hubs that provide meeting space and guidance for teachers throughout the South Kivu and Katanga provinces.
The vision for this prototype is to be a flexible space – one that can serve as a small library for reference books and a lecture hall while at times becoming a space where teachers can break into groups for smaller workshops. Further, because the building will only have limited use throughout the school year, the program leaders indicated the desire for the building to be public space that could be easily used by the surrounding community. The final requirement, as is always the case, is cost. With only $12,000 available for each building, some of which will be in extremely remote areas, alternative materials and details must be considered.
While the program has its own construction team of qualified engineers, they have no architects. Many of the building plans that were presented to the team leaders were varying versions of an “adult size” classroom + small office included within the square plan. These typical masonry constructions enclosed with doors and windows would not only be too costly, but the schemes fell short of the team’s vision for this functionality and character of the space.

It was at this point that the OPEQ team came to me for some ideas.

I found myself gravitating towards a solution to minimize the heavy construction needed. When considering the program, a library will need to be secure – with perhaps a desk for administrative purposes. All other activities require a large, open space. Therefore, the heavy construction can be consolidated around the a small meeting room / library, with an efficiently sized storage area for desks. During meetings among teachers, these desks can be organized as needed throughout the large auditorium. This large space can remain without doors to be open at all hours, with bamboo screens to define the enclosure. The floors slab can remain compacted earth, clay, or paved with brick.

Schematic Diagram – reduced “heavy” construction

Teacher Learning Center Plan

Cross Section

Longitudinal Section

Teacher Learning Center – sections and details

While many of the details still need to be clarified, I can estimate that this structure will come in at 75% of the cost of the original schemes. The OPEQ team is working through the construction details and logistical concerns that will eventually lead to 22 of these structures to be built throughout the Mwenga territory of South Kivu.

Homemade Charging Station

While traveling through the country side of Mwenga, I came across these guys running a small business charging  cell phones.  Upon further inspection, I realized that the power strip they were using was completely home made.  Using a regular piece of wood with hand drilled outlets and homemade rivets, these guys recycled the wire from the broken power strip, seen on the left side of the table. The new power strip has the capacity to charge up to 35 devices on a single current.   This of course would require a hefty generator, which they did not have.  The machine they were using could charge two phones at a time.  A new generator can be quite expensive, but these guys are well on their way to earning the necessary funds.

Traveling through the Eastern Congo, I am always impressed by the people I meet.  The combination of human ingenuity and extreme need often brings forth simple and innovative solutions such as this one.

Proposed Improvements: Health Center Station in DRC

Standard Plan – Health Station

Many communities working through the Tuungane program use their grants to address public health needs.  We present four construction options for them: a regional health center, a maternity clinic, a dispensary, and a health center station. The health center station (Poste de Sante) is the smallest and least expensive option.  The health programs that come with this construction provides a nurse, a lab technician, and an office manager.  The clinic is open during business hours and dispenses prescriptions, lab tests, and referrals to larger health centers.  The current design for a health center station provides 4 interior spaces: a waiting room, an office and archive, a consultation room and a treatment room.  These spaces are complimented by a modest veranda at the front of the building that serves as an extension of the waiting area.  This plan is simple, logically laid out, and “gets the job done.”  That’s about it.

Cost Consolidation

Our standard construction documents call for a masonry structure with iron sheets.  The cost for such a health center station then comes in at around $20,000.  Unfortunately, under the revised Tuungane strategies, communities are now allocated only $15,000 and $19,000. Grants are given in these amounts in order to promote coordinated efforts between neighboring communities.  However, in the event that a community is isolated from its neighbors or it does not share the same goals, the only option is to downgrade the existing design in order to cut costs. Concrete block is replaced with mud brick, and iron sheets with thatch.  These choices can limit the life of the building and the sustainability of the health services that it is built to provide.

With some adjustments to the standard design however, not only can a health station of quality materials be achieved within the community’s budget, but it can improve the lives of the community members.  This can be achieved through consolidation of the existing plan and the incorporation of local construction methods.

The needs of the health center station list treatment and consultation rooms that require security, clean surfaces, and privacy.  In addition to these spaces, the plan shows two waiting rooms: the large interior space and the exterior veranda.  These two spaces are not only redundant, but the amount of material used for their construction is the same as for the treatment and consultation rooms.  To consolidate costs around the essential spaces, the secondary waiting spaces can be “lightened” by pulling them out of the main construction to engage the surrounding landscape.  A clay slab or brick patio surface can be used for these exterior spaces.  Further, screen walls can be built to help define the corridors and waiting areas while providing shade and protection from winds.  Bamboo and thin wooden sticks are often used throughout central and east Africa in wall construction.  By using such details, the community can not only lower construction costs by donating materials, but they can also incorporate their own building expertise and aesthetics into the design of the building.

Finally, the pitched roof of the original design can be inverted to consolidate water catchment to a single axis.  Water can be diverted to one side of the building to provide running water to the treatment room (which would achieve World Health Organization standards).  In the event that a water system is already available, rainwater can be diverted to a garden for irrigation of traditional medicinal herbs.

Standard Plan – Health Station

Cost Consolidation

Proposed Plan and Section

Proposed Health Station with rain water irrigation system

Decorative screen walls would use more wood than the original design; and precise measurements for the gravity-fed irrigation system would be needed.  However, the amount of concrete and the number of doors and windows would be cut by 30%.  Such consolidations of materials and reformatting of the standard plan could bring the cost of a health center station within the financial reach of a single community. I will soon be going to the field to review the existing health station designs and to talk with the local staff members.  In the mean time, I have presented these thoughts to my colleagues in the IRC health department and to construction managers from other projects within the Bukavu office.  So far, they have been accepted as clear improvements over our standard design.  After defining exact material quantities and a budget, the final step will be a formal presentation to the health ministry here in Bukavu for formal approval.

Architectural Prototypes in the Congo: Proposing Improvements

Typical Classrooms, Cihumba, DRC

Thousands of structures have already been built within the IRC’s Tuungane program; and with 470 communities in South Kivu still progressing towards construction within the next two years, it is impossible to custom-design each village project.  The IRC strategy has been to create a series of standard designs that enable reliable cost estimation, rapid construction, and efficient project monitoring.

When I arrived in Bukavu, I found simple drawings that serve as the construction documents for each project sector: water/sanitation, education, health and public markets.  The communities can then modify certain materials in order to fit the project costs within their budget envelope.  However, due to the small grants that each community receives, these prescribed designs have been schematically consolidated in order to cut costs to the degree that adjacencies, circulation needs, and contextual considerations have been sacrificed.  Unfortunately, these designs still comply with the DRC building codes (which often prescribe exact building plans – thereby preventing any improved designs from being implemented).

Typical Health Center, Ihoka, DRC

Some engineers feel that the buildings and systems that have been built so far have been the best and most efficient designs, but their assessments have been base entirely on spread sheets of quantities, prices and purely quantitative data.  Contextual design can be cheaper to build, thereby sparing funds for additional projects.  It can also improve the community’s ownership of the project – a vital consideration.

In the past, I have freely changed “standard” designs in order to better serve the needs of communities; and proceeded through construction without some government approvals.  So far, the various government ministries have endorsed my changes upon seeing the final product. However, because the Tuungane program prepares communities to operate within local governance systems, such a strategy would undermine the goals of the entire initiative.

In order to promote the creative design process as essential to the development efforts of the Tuungane program, and indeed to any program, I will follow through a formal analysis of each building design and propose structural modifications, schematic revisions, and site planning considerations for each.  These will be presented to government ministries for approval before any construction can begin.

My first analysis will focus on the smallest construction available to the communities in the Tuungane Program: Un Poste de Sante (health center station).

The Largest Development Effort In Africa: Tuungane

Having begun my career in Africa working on small teams, tackling one project at a time, I was often skeptical of big NGOs.  However, as I begin work with the International Rescue Comittee, I’ve come to realize that massive problems require massive efforts.  Working as one of five construction coordinators with the IRC, I have joined an enormous initiative that has been working with over 1,500 small communities across eastern Democratic Republic of Congo.  This is the largest effort of its kind in Africa.

Although many might expect that building schools, clinics and general infrastructure would be the best long-term solution to problems in the DRC, construction by itself doesn’t take into account the complexity of Congo’s problems. The root of these problems is a lack of good governance practices and citizens’ lack of confidence in government.   The only way to pull the DRC out of economic stagnation in a sustainable manner is to help the people and their government take responsibility for the country’s development. The IRC’s program, Tuungane (“Let’s Unite”), addresses governance deficiencies at the most local level.

• Context of the Eastern Congo

The great wars of Africa occurred in the aftermath of the 1996 Rwandan genocide, and raged across central Africa for over twelve years.  The fighting involved eight countries and killed over 5.4 million people.  Jason Stearns has chronicled the conflicts in DRC in his comprehensive book, Dancing In The Glory Of Monsters.

While the conflicts have subsided, and some consider them “over,” there are still many pockets of unrest. Independent militias continue to roam throughout the eastern provinces. Their ideological motives have morphed into a fight for control of lucrative resources and for the power that comes with that control.  The DRC government’s solution has been to consolidate many of these resistance movements into the national military, but since the government rarely pays these soldiers, they still survive by extortion and violence.

• Tuungane

The goal of the IRC’s Tuungane project in DRC is to help to establish solid, enduring principles of good governance at the village level. Participating communities lead themselves through local elections and assessments.  Then, they work together to construct schools, health centers, water systems, roads, or markets as a vehicle to strengthen these community driven decision processes.  While the financing for these projects is provided by the IRC, it is the communities themselves that decide which projects are most needed; and it is their elected leaders that engage local government ministries in approvals, monitoring, and in some cases, in construction.

Within this large project, I work as a construction coordinator.  While I believe that architecture and design itself can have a major positive effect on communities and individuals, I play only a small role in this massive program. During my time with the IRC in the province of South Kivu, my personal goal is to empower the communities that I work with through art, design, and construction.  This will ultimately solidify their emotional connection to and their ownership of these projects. For the purpose of this post however, an explanation of the Tuungane program will help illustrate the larger framework within which I work, and lay the groundwork for further posts.

The Tuungane program is vast, working with over 1,500 communities across the provinces of Katanga, Maniema and North and South Kivu.  The protocols for the processes of introduction, elections, project development, and construction are comprehensive, requiring 32 community meetings and milestones, quorum requirements, financing options, and the creation of various subcommittees.  The program has been laid out to ensure flexibility and to maximize the chances of project success.

The process is divided into four phases.

• Phase One: Preparation, Introductions, Elections

The first half of phase one is dedicated to large-scale preparations: meetings with governors, district commissioners, relevant offices (roads, education, health, etc.), and organizing census information to delineate village borders and population data.

Then, engagements with each village begin. The first meeting is with the chief of the village, as chiefs not only preside over ceremonies (weddings, circumcisions), but also settle disputes and maintain general order throughout the community.  The first meeting is for formal introductions and to explain that the village has been selected to participate in the Tuungane program if it chooses.  This initial meeting is followed by a complete explanation of the governance processes and the level of community dedication that will be required.

Choosing the Development Sector

The three meetings that follow are with the entire community.  These meetings include various group activities that are aimed at helping the community understand and prioritize the problems that need to be addressed.  Once two of the five sectors are identified as priorities (for example, education and potable water), the community elects a development committee.

Elections take place over the course of an afternoon.  Half of the positions are reserved for women, and other “vulnerables” (members of the community who would otherwise be overlooked) are given chances to run for office, speak, and vote.  After the votes are compiled and totaled, the responsibilities of the elected are discussed in an open forum. IRC facilitators ask such questions as, “What will you, the community, do if funds are embezzled?”  At this point, the community and their elected leadership begin to realize that the future of the project is in their hands.

Later, villagers meet with neighboring communities who have chosen the same type of project so that grants can be combined for more effective and coordinated development.  As many as five communities may come together to pool resources and select a location or locations for the project.

• Phase Two: Proposals, Coordination

Phase Two begins with a self-analysis of conditions in the communities, leading to a formal proposal that outlines goals and available resources (both material and human). This process of putting aspirations into written form solidifies the community member’s understanding of the tasks at hand and their capacity to work together.

Elections - South Kivu

Phase Two continues with field trips for the local elected leadership to provincial government ministries to engage leaders in local infrastructure development via school recognition, allocation of health professionals, etc.  These meetings are one of the most important steps in the Tuungane project: local leaders not only learn the process of working within existing governance systems, but they also begin to hold their local ministries to account.

• Phase Three: Project Development

During Phase Three, communities begin to define the details of the construction project(s).  IRC representatives meet with the community to clarify the limits of the grant (between $12,000 and $19,000 depending on population).  If, for example, the community chooses to build a school, the number of classrooms, the materials choices, and the overall quality of construction are discussed. This means that the community can choose to build two classrooms with concrete block and iron sheets, or five classrooms with adobe brick and a thatched roof.  This exercise in cost/benefit analysis helps community members to make decisions about how they would like to spend their grant

Project Development

and to improve their community.

After materials are chosen and the scope of construction established, a bid request is issued in much the same way that it is done for any construction project in the rest of the world: construction timelines are outlined, and specific design drawings and material quantities are provided.  Contractors are notified via broadcasts on local radio stations, and through other local media. Once a minimum number of bids are submitted, elected officials meet with the community to open each bid to compare.  A rating system, provided by the IRC, helps ensure unbiased decisions.

If the community finds the bid estimates to be too high or otherwise undesirable, the community can opt to assemble its own construction effort.  IRC field personnel explain the pros and cons of these two options, along with the different financing structures.

By the end of Phase Three, everyone, from elected officials to each member of the community, has a complete understanding of what is expected.

• Phase Four “A”: Construction

The first half of Phase Four covers the execution of the project.  Construction is monitored by IRC technicians and by the construction manager.  After predetermined milestones are reached, the contractor or the community asks for release of funds.  If agreed-upon milestones aren’t reached, the community may fire the contractor and hire another.  Most of the contractual language and construction monitoring methods follow the same models as are used in privately funded projects in the west.

When construction is complete, the contractor, the community and the construction coordinator sign off on the project, authorizing the final release of funds and progression to the last phase.

• Phase Four “B”: Monitoring

The final phase begins with a series of monitoring exercises that take place 30 days after construction has been completed.  The community is given an outline that helps pinpoint any concerns about how the programs are being run.  Further, any staff that may be involved (for example, teachers or nurses) are given the chance to write their own reviews, one in response to the community and one outlining any administrative problems that have prevented them from doing their jobs.  This is followed by a series of meetings with the community, providing a forum for further problem solving.

It is the goal of the Tuungane program that these town meetings and election processes continue after the IRC staff have moved on to other communities. Some communities have since started subcommittees to address public health or maintenance of community spaces.  This unity has the potential to bloom into larger grass roots movements that can influence the national government.

Not every project has been successful. Since the IRC works with many communities in a very large territory, complete oversight is impossible. Money has found ways to disappear and contractors have abandoned projects.  When these problems occur, the communities are given a small time frame to come together to find a solution.  Some lose their chance participate in the program, while others commit to raising the funds themselves to replace what has been embezzled.

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As this blog continues, I will be writing not only to document the progress of the Tuungane program, but also to comment on it as an architect: addressing design, construction, and community involvement.

15,000 Bottle Caps for Africa

As a development professional working in Sub Saharan Africa, I always adhere to the ultimate goals of my client: the community.  As an architect, I try to bring new ideas and always push to raise the expectations of those I am working with, by working hand in hand with local artisans and community leaders.

A Maasai woman, Loita

The Maasai are among the most recognized of ethnic groups in East Africa due to their continued historic customs, unique social structure and beautiful aesthetic.  Their territory spans between Kenya and Tanzania, alongside the Maasai Mara and Serengeti.  As nomadic pastoralists, they exist within a patriarchal social system, share a religion unique to their tribe, and, contrary to many stereotypes, are very peaceful and hardworking.   They are also often eager to explain the details of what makes their Maasai culture unique.

The integrity of their culture has not been sustained by accident, but rather by a deep-seated sense of identity and pride within the Maasai community.  Since the early days of colonization, the Maasai have always kept western influences at arm’s length.   This pride sparked action in 1975, when Maasai leadership banned western cultivation practices in order to preserve their way of life.  While this ban was lifted in 1992, Maasai politicians still resist major development opportunities that would have brought roads and other infrastructure to the region.  Such drastic self-imposed limitations may appear stubborn to those in the west, but this proud sense of identity has undoubtedly preserved the beauty of the Maasai environment and culture.

Even with steps taken toward preservation, for better and for worse, the lives of the Maasai are changing.  The encroaching borders of game parks, the growing challenge of finding water, the emerging concern for maternal and community health, and concerns of the next generation’s future in this changing world have led many Maasai to put down roots.  As a result, many emerging communities have begun to organize the development of schools and clinics.  The remote community of Loita Hills is one such community.

Understanding the tribe’s customs and rich history, I realized that I was faced with an enormous challenge when I was offered the opportunity to create a library and internet learning center in Loita with Under The Acacia, an organization working on small scale development projects in Kenya.    UTA had already been working with this community for three years and had established a primary school of three classrooms, a clinic, and had set up food and water program resulting in the creation of seven new jobs.  The next step was to bring information – massive amounts of it – through thousands of books and a Wi-Fi internet connection.

In Loita, where education and western medicine are just beginning to take root, the idea of introducing something as foreign and as far reaching as the internet would be an enormous challenge.  While the younger generation was entirely ready (proven by the fact that many had well over 1000 friends on Facebook through their mobile phones), I was concerned about the elders’ acceptance of such a project.  A library is straightforward enough; the concept of the internet can be extremely difficult convey. Described as “a library in the sky”, the internet would allow the community not only to see out into this vast world, but it would also allow the rest of us into theirs.  This was to be a massive step, one that would have to be taken carefully and with the entire community on board.

The question for me then became “How to create a building that that will not only provide space for these learning programs, but will also work within a process that involves the community in the design to ensure that it is accepted as a project unique to the Loita Hills Community?”

The answer lay within the culture itself.

Schematic Rendering - showing incorporation of Maasai jewelry

It is the Maasai jewelry that stands out as the most iconic symbol of the tribe.  Jewelry is worn at all times by both men and women, and in great quantity during special occasions.  The jewelry can range from simple bracelets of solid color to elaborate headdresses of intricate patterns.  The jewelry is quite complex, in that each piece, and therefore each designer, must follow a distinct set of rules.  There are primary colors and secondary colors; and each color has a symbolic significance.  Further, each region of Maasai land tends to favor a specific color.  These regional differences lend to variations in design styles and preferred types of jewelry pieces.

I began to study this art form through various journals and textbooks, and even tried to design some of my own.  Clearly though, as a white American man, I have no place assuming that I have the skills necessary to be a designer of Maasai jewelry.  The only people qualified to design such a piece are those who have grown up in the craft: the Maasai women.  Jewelry making has woven itself into the social structure of the women of Loita, who come together after the day’s work is done.  The learning of the craft starts at a young age, and the best designers enjoy great recognition of their skills and beauty.  Their art permeates everything Maasai.  Here was an opportunity to bring the local women into the design process and literally make the learning center into piece of jewelry.  Not only would this became the driving force behind the community’s involvement, but the building as a whole would stand as a monument to the beauty of Maasai art.

A Maasai woman, Loita

A challenge emerged: what could we use as our beads?  I considered the possibility of small painted stones, but their inevitably inconsistent size could create a sloppy result.  I referred back to my previous projects in other parts of Kenya, and remembered that bottle caps are used quite often as washers, wheels on toy cars, or as units on an abacus.  Here was a consistent unit that had the unique shape that would stick into plaster and is available all throughout Kenya.

In initial sketches, I began to realize that if this was going to be a success, we would need thousands of caps.  Living in New York City at the time, I began a campaign to collect used bottle caps.  Over the course of five weeks, I got acquainted with servers at bars and restaurants within my neighborhood, taking home close to 2500 bottle caps per week.  I knew I wouldn’t have enough.  Some friends helped make a YouTube video that helped get the word out, and soon I was receiving boxes of bottle caps from people all around the USA.  Thousands from California, New Hampshire and Georgia arrived in New York.  In all we received caps from nine states.  After five weeks, we had too many to count.  Some strategic thinking brought us to FedEx, which upon hearing about our project, offered to send all of the caps to Kenya for free.  These bottle caps eventually met up with growing collections in Kenya, bringing our collection to a total of over 70,000 bottle caps.

But how to incorporate this art form into the design of the building?

Traditional Maasai Manyatta

I began by studying the local architecture.  In this nomadic society, architecture is largely limited to residential structures: manyattas, or bomas.  Further, these structures are built to be easily dismantled for transport and/or to leave a minimal footprint.  Only local materials are used, mainly tree trunks, branches, mud and cow dung.  These materials are then assembled using a method similar to the wattle and daub method of spreading mud and dung over a woven framework of sticks.  The typical plan also includes some unique features: tree trunk columns within to support the roof, a circular plan or rounded corners which provide structural rigidity, and entrances that turn in at 90 degrees to prevent cattle from entering the homestead.  While many African tribes build huts of various styles, these characteristics are unique to the Maasai culture.  In contrast, Under the Acacia’s architectural projects in Loita (3 classrooms, a clinic and 2 offices) were to be made with some of the best and strongest building materials available.  The use of stone, continuous cement mortar, reinforced concrete elements, and the best roof panels available will ensure that these structures remain standing for years.  The buildings are also accented with plaster finishes, pointing, and fresh paint.  As much as these buildings are vibrant examples of craftsmanship and construction and are the pride of the community, they stand in stark contrast to the surrounding manyattas.  Further, the stone block accounted for a large portion of their construction costs, as all materials had to be trucked into Loita from Narok, a two to four hour drive away.

This disconnect between the historic vernacular and the accepted “standard” modern building practices became the first conceptual challenge of the architectural project.  After establishing the square footage requirements for a twelve-unit computer lab and a 4000-book library within the limitations of a $20,000 budget, I began to work towards a scheme that would combine and resolve these contrasting building systems. After various iterations, a plan emerged that would employ some of the characteristics of the typical manyatta plan as well as introduce a new system of construction that resembles the wattle and daub method while incorporating modern building materials.  This method could then be blended with the standard confined masonry construction used in the existing

Learning Center Plan

classrooms. I opted to build the main body of the structure with standard stone construction.  This may seem odd, for the method was out of context, but this was the best possible approach for two reasons:  (1) as a proven method in which I had experience, we would be able to guarantee successful completion of the project and better estimate the construction timeline;  and (2) the masons would be working within a construction method they would be comfortable in for the majority of the project.  Therefore the method of stone construction served to secure the spaces in strength and constructability.

As the plan developed, it became clear that the reading/meeting area created a structural challenge.  At 24’x18’, it would be a large space, and require some special considerations to achieve the roof span.  It became apparent that columns could be necessary, which could potentially fracture the space I had originally intended for gatherings.  This challenge however, soon became another opportunity for further incorporating Maasai traditions and culture.   Oleng’oti meetings among elders are held regularly, and always under the shade of a tree, to discuss local issues and marriages and to settle disputes. With some creative structure, we would be able to create a permanent meeting space that would reference the Oleng’oti tradition while providing needed structural support for the large roof span.

This reading and meeting space and stone structure was then complimented by a curved feature wall of wattle and daub construction to define the circulation corridor between the spaces.  It was this curved wall that became the ideal palette to become a wall of Maasai jewelry.

At the beginning of the project, the women organized themselves to into groups to sort the bottle caps into colors and sizes and to prepare designs for the installation.

Bottle Cap Installation

The election of three group leaders , Nalepo, Memotie, and Kerembe, by all the village women not only ensured that the three women’s enthusiasm would spread to everyone, but it also gave the design team structure and direction.  Four weeks into the project, we had two designs for the wall.  Chosen for the outside was a common pattern that used all of the colors of the Maasai palette, and incorporated white, the most popular color of Loita beadwork.  The interior pattern emerged as an extremely traditional and unique geometric design that is found only in Loita.  Once the designs were completed, I got to work estimating the quantities of colored caps that we would need (20,000 white, 8,000 red, etc.), and used this information to purchase proper quantities of paint.  After one week of painting, we finally reached the convergence of the construction progress of the masons and the hard work of the women.  For four days, a massive assembly line went into operation, with the masons plastering one section at a time, and the army of women following installing thousands of bottle caps, one at a time.

Throughout construction, the women (and many of the men) were amazed with what was happening.  After five weeks of planning, designing and coordination, the Loita Learning Center had taken shape into something that no one had ever seen before, yet spoke a language that everyone understood.

A Maasai woman

Bottle caps used as washers Kibwezi, Kenya

Schematic Rendering

Traditional Maasai Manyatta

2 of 3 Classrooms of Loita Hills Academy

Learning Center Plan

Jewelry Wall Construction Detail

Seating Area and Oleng’oti Tree

Learning Center under construction

Carrying the Oleng’oti Tree – 4 Kilometers

Installing the Tree

A Maasai woman, Loita

Sorting Bottle Caps (9 days)

Women reveal their designs

Planning Transfer to Architectural Scale

Painting – 20,000 white

Painting – 7,000 black

Bottle Cap Installation

The Assembly Line

Bottle Cap Installation

The Construction Document

Progress

Interior Jewelry Wall

Traditional Loita Pattern

Interior Oleng’oti Space

Kerembe, Nalepo, Memotie

The Greystone Learning Center

The Costs

Materials and local labor costs for this project came in at $20,000, or $18.00 per square foot.   A relevant, yet challenging, cost comparison would be to a typical government-funded school construction project.  When the Kenyan Ministry of Education commits to building a classroom, a grant of $7,000 is provided, which translates to about $12.00 per square foot.  Thus, the Loita Learning Center project cost $6,500 more than a “standard” construction project in rural Kenya of the same size.

This project however, is far from standard.

It is always difficult to justify any increase in cost when working with donors and organizations that are faced with the challenge of raising money.  A skeptic may challenge a project such as this one by asking “Why build that building for the cost of ‘x’, when you could build two lesser quality structures and reach twice as many people at the same cost?”  This is a logical question – but the wrong one.  If we as investors in Sub-Saharan Africa allow ourselves to lower our standards for what can (and needs) to be achieved – such expectations can very well seep into the communities themselves.  Such a result would then undermine any and all efforts to initiate sustained growth.  Allocating additional yet measured funds towards a higher quality of construction, towards a process that involves the community in construction and design, and towards an elegant finished product can have long lasting effects that can improve lives beyond any statistical measurement.

Since completion of the GreyStone Learning Center in November of 2011, the community has declared the reading area to be the new and official meeting space for matters of Oleng’oti, and the women of Loita can point to their creative expertise as the driving force behind the building’s unique design; a design which has begun to draw numerous elders from over the horizon.  Once the internet and books arrive in Loita, news, information and learning software will become available, and word of something special in Loita will continue to spread.

As of January 2012, UTA’s partners are on the ground in Loita working to install solar panels, set up a Wi-Fi connection, and to ensure the internet café business model is off to a good start.  The funds for this equipment is possible by a grant from The Internet Society.  Adele’s Literacy Library is also in the process of resolving logistical issues in sending the thousands of books that will supply Loita’s new library.  Completion is scheduled for the end of February, 2012.

A Liter Of Light: Too Good For Only The Slums

Upon learning of the Liter of Light concept in July of 2011, I realized that this idea was so good that it could be applied well beyond the slum settings where it was introduced.  The concept is simple: fill a 1 liter clear plastic bottle with water (and a small amount of ammonia to prevent bacteria build up), then place the up-right bottle into a hole in the roof – allowing light to diffract through the water.   This not only prevents hot “sun spots” from occurring throughout the day, but it also distributes enough light to be compared to a 55 watt light bulb.

This simple method can be applied to larger buildings and is particularly useful for libraries and classrooms. In this project in Loita, Kenya, we installed a series of these “sky bulbs” throughout the building.  Since completing the structure, the community has collected more plastic bottles for installation in other spaces of the learning center and in their neighboring classrooms.

How to build an industrial sized wood burning stove:

In the previous post Building a Kitchen in Kenya: $0.00, I detailed the design and construction process of the project.   I also mentioned that many of the masons were taking notes throughout construction, and have since built numerous iterations of the smaller stoves.

Some of the neighboring school administrators have since stopped by and expressed interest in building a version of the larger industrial-sized stove, though I had not left a set of drawings detailing the design.  I have since sent this complete construction document to my friends in Usalama, which has allowed them to begin building large stoves in the surrounding communities.  Any comments that you may have would be much appreciated.

I take pride in creating sets of drawings that present clear and logical directions with minimal need for language.  This method of illustration has begun to find its way into other projects that are heading into construction.