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What does ‘self-care’ mean in Kenyan?

  • Writer: Jana Winterhalter
    Jana Winterhalter
  • 3 days ago
  • 6 min read

About the concept of self-care in rural Kenya


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There is something that I am noticing more and more in my life between German and Kenyan culture that I would like to tell you about.


Self-care is a topic that plays a big role in my life. Equipped with a highly sensitive body and nervous system, and at the same time always full of ideas and projects that don't always quite fit into an existing concept or norm, I established ways very early on in my life to make small or large spaces in my everyday life for myself, my inner peace and my health. Meditation, yoga, earth-based activities and music are, for example, part of my personal ‘self-care’ recipe, for which I prefer to have no one but myself with me.


And of course, I'm not the only one. For many years now, the self-care movement has been gaining traction even in hard-working, duty-conscious Germany. Taking time ‘just for yourself’ or ‘looking after yourself’ every now and then, finding the right work-life balance — all of this is becoming increasingly important and a matter of course for many. While most of my European friends and acquaintances are increasingly flocking to retreats, discovering yoga or other activities for themselves and seeking their own ways to set ‘healthy boundaries’, I find myself wondering more and more: how does self-care actually work in Kenyan?


How does Self-Care work in Kenyan?


I would like to write specifically about my experiences of rural village life in and around Kandongu. In metropolitan, multicultural Nairobi, the reality is of course very different.


So what does self-care, as we establish it in the ‘global North’, mean when applied to Kenyan village life? In short: it doesn't exist. Not in the sense that we would understand or practise it. There are no sports or music clubs where people can meet to unwind from everyday life. There are no cafés that invite you to linger and relax. I only know one person who regularly picks up a book to treat herself to a little ‘me time’ by reading. I gave her the perfect hammock for this, because even such an item, which is purely for relaxing and doing nothing, is unknown here.

I have never seen a signposted walking, hiking or cycling trail here. There are no ‘parks’ designed for relaxation in green surroundings, no park benches, no swimming lakes.


So, is life here dreary, busy and devoid of relaxation and leisure time?


To be fair, of course not. Even though ‘burnout’, ‘stress’ and “exhaustion” occur only to a fraction of what I have observed in Germany — the work ethic and attitudes towards success differ significantly — there are, of course, still practices of relaxation and balance. It's just that this ‘self-care’ looks very different here, and secondly, no one here would describe it as such.


Leisure moments from the life of a Kenyan


I would like to share a few examples from my immediate environment with you:


There is Brother Francis, director of our school project and a long-time friend. When he wants to really ‘relax’, he goes to play football or volleyball with the children at the school, whom he calls ‘his children’, or he organises discussion groups in which, for example, ‘his girls’ can talk to him freely about sensitive topics. ‘When I'm without my children, I get sick,’ he often says. During the holidays, when they are not there, he may catch up on some sleep, but otherwise he uses the time to get involved in various social groups and projects, mostly as a board member. These groups have dozens or hundreds of members and their main goal is to provide financial support to each other in difficult situations, such as illness or death in the family. So there is always some kind of ‘Harambee’, or fundraising, to organise and lead.


Then there is Coletta, my dear helper in the house and on the farm, with whom I live and am building our farm project. She refuses to take days off during the week because she doesn't know what to do with herself. So she cooks when she comes home from church on Sundays. If she has several days off, then it's clear to her: she fills them with time with her family. For example, she goes to visit her niece, her daughter and granddaughter also come over, and so 4 adults and 5 children spend a weekend in a 1-room flat, sharing beds, often three to a bed. She loves it. No matter how cramped, no matter how ‘uncomfortable’, after spending time with her family, she feels reborn.


All the ‘mums’ in our community love Sundays. Going to church, then spending time in various women's groups, planning trips to weddings or funerals of people they mostly don't even know personally, then making house calls with prayer groups — that's their way of recovering from a busy week at home.


And the men? They also meet in men's groups, sometimes of a religious nature, but mostly cultural, in which the traditions of the tribe are preserved, discussed and kept alive. However, plenty of food and beer are also part of such ‘men only’ gatherings.


Community-Care as Self-Care


If we understand ‘self-care’ in the sense of taking care of oneself, as time with oneself and for oneself, then I have to say: that doesn't exist here, or very little of it. Culturally, self-care has nothing to do with consumption à la ‘I'm treating myself to something for myself’ or ‘for my body’. And it has EVERYTHING to do with community.


Self-care and community care are one and the same here. One's own well-being never, or only in exceptional cases, takes precedence over the well-being of the community.

That does not mean that there are not also people who ‘only think of themselves’. But one must be able to afford to abstain from the network of communal care, and only a few want to do so, and even fewer actually do.


And so I am constantly reminded that the phenomenon of ‘taking care of oneself,’ which we take for granted, is a privileged concept. It is an idea that we apparently need in order to feel a healthy connection with ourselves again, in a life that we mostly manage on our own. Here in my village in Kenya, that is unimportant. It is always about nurturing and strengthening one's own position in the community and thus the community itself — so that there is a sense of togetherness that takes the burden off the challenges of life.


Which concept is better?


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I don't know. And I don't think that's the point. Personally, I need regular oases of peace ‘just for myself’, but since I've been living here, my need for community has increased significantly. Sometimes I can't help but treat myself to a trip to Nairobi for a good massage or a good coffee, but at the same time, the desire for this is becoming less and less and the fulfilment of community care is becoming noticeably more important for my self-care.


When visiting Germany, I often ask myself: is it really self-care that we need, or are we using it to fill an inner void that arises from insufficient experience of community? Are we buying happiness when we feel lonely?


I am grateful to be able to experience and witness this kind of care concept before the shift towards greater individualism takes hold here too. In cities, community care is already visibly disappearing. People in salaried jobs with their own flats can afford to care more about themselves than about the community and believe in their own independence from a strong social network.


Your Advent season: How much community care is part of it for you?


As Advent begins, I naturally hope that you don't neglect your self-care. That you create moments of calm and oases of well-being that your body, mind and soul may need after a turbulent year.

And: I hope that you experience ‘community care’ as an important core part of your self-care. That you may experience the healing and fulfilling — if not always relaxing — effect of belonging. Perhaps this time, the turn of the year is not so much about worrying too much about ourselves, self-awareness and self-optimisation, but about becoming aware of the importance we have, or could have, for the community around us.


I wish you fulfilling moments of self-care, whatever that looks like for you!


Thank you for being part of Njoki, accompanying me and helping to support and nurture this community!


Best wishes from Kenya!

Jana


PS: I will soon be writing to you with the end-of-year newsletter, where you can find out all the latest news about the projects!




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