By Njoki Chege

Unless we are dropping or picking up our kids from there, we normally dismiss them with just a passing glance.

They might seem small and insignificant, but day care centres — some fair priced and others ridiculously costly, have become a booming business.

Children at a day care in Korogocho slums, with the owner, Naomi Mwangi, [PHOTOS: Joseph kiptarus/Standard]

The facilities come in handy during desperate times, regardless of a parent’s nature of work.

As we are ushered into a tiny stuffy room by a day care ‘teacher’ somewhere in Korogocho, I cannot help but wonder how difficult it must be to have tens of screaming children to attend to.

We are welcomed by the sharp noise of a crying child…and soon all the attention has shifted from us to the inconsolable toddler.

There are several toddlers in the room — possibly fifteen or more — all busy; either sleeping, playing with toys, staring at the ‘huge’ camera and others crying for attention.

I turn just in time to warn our photographer not to step on the toddler several inches away from his feet. The toddler is seven months old, I’m told.

This is a typical scenario in a day care in Korogocho slums, where parents can have their children taken care of for a fee as low as…get this, Sh10 a day.

Naomi Mwangi, a health worker and the owner of Mother of All Children Day care Centre has been operating the facility for the last three years.

This day care, as she explains, began merely by chance.

How business started

"As a health worker, many children who had run away from home, or had been raped or assaulted were brought to me for help. While most of them were adopted or returned to their families, some remained with me and slept in my house. As I worked during the day, I would take them to a local day care centre, but they became too many and the day care fee was too much for me. I needed a way out."

She therefore decided to rent a room to place the kids while at work during the day. Soon, other parents started bringing in their toddlers, and before she knew it, Wanjiru was running a day care business.

"The parents pay Sh10 per day and leave a snack or a meal if they can afford. However, most parents bring their children here empty handed as they go out in search of a living for their children. Some don’t even leave anything for their kids to eat and I have to dig deep into my pocket to provide lunch for these kids." Says Wanjiru.

I can barely hear her…as her voice is drowned by the endless screaming and yelping of the toddlers. She picks the one with the loudest scream, places him on her lap and the baby quiets instantly — much to our surprise.

The day care is open from 8am to 6pm, although some parents bring their children as early as 6am and some fail to pick their children in the evening, but thanks to Wanjiru’s generosity, the children sleep in her house till the next morning.

The centre is opened on Mondays to Fridays, although there are some parents who insist on bringing their children on Saturdays.

While they spend most of their day playing with their brightly colored toys, the kids also sing and the ‘teacher’ teaches them the alphabet from a chart hanging on the wall.

The ages of the children here range from seven months to three years. At the moment, the youngest child in the day care is Adobi — a seven month old toddler, who can barely walk.

Out of the many we found there, only five pay the Sh10. This means Wanjiru pockets approximately Sh50 in a day, but since most parents don’t leave their kids with a single snack, this money is spent on their lunch — a humble meal of plain fried rice. Besides paying the ‘teacher’ who assists her, Wanjiru also has to pay rent of Sh1,200 for the room. But as she explains, the money is barely enough.

not enough

Says she; "On average, I get about 21 children per day. But out of these, only five pay the Sh10. I barely raise enough money to cater for all those expenses."

The youngest baby ever handled by Wanjiru’s day care was only two weeks old, whose mother was admitted in hospital for several weeks. It was probably Wanjiru’s most trying time, but she was happy to do it — even without pay.

At the upmarket estate in Lavington, we are ushered to a day care safely tucked in the leafy suburb amid a serene and quiet environment.

When we arrive, at around 10am, it is break time and the children seated quietly are eating snacks from their minute lunch boxes. On their menu, they have wholesome milk, packed in 200ml packets which the institution provides on request.

To top it all up, children are placed under the ‘Montessori’ programme — which believes in placing learning materials within a child’s environment for the child to interact with them according to their different interests.

There are four members of staff chaperoning the children as they eat. This, by all means, is a far cry from the day care in Korogocho.

Different ages

Ruth Maina, a former high school teacher began the day care and kindergarten nine years ago. The institution is divided into four groups; the day care class of children below the age of two years, baby class of children aged three to four year, middleclass of children of four to five years and pre-unit of children of six years.

Children here graduate by the age of six years to class one in another school. By June, most children are prepared to join class one in various schools the following year.

According to Maina, the day care business has always been in existence for a long time — only then, it was a preserve of the up market.

She explains the stark differences in the motivation behind parents leaving their children in a day care.

"The motivation for parents in the upmarket is different from that in other areas. While parents in the upmarket seek company and the interactive environment for their children, in spite of having a house help, parents in other areas seek to cut the cost of employing a house girl by taking their children to a day care."

Parents in upmarket areas have the choice of leaving their children under the care of several house helps — but feel that their kids would be safer and more comfortable with their peers in a day care under several chaperones. For the parents in the not-so-upmarket areas, it all about killing two birds with one stone — saving money on the house help and having their kids interact with other children for better growth and development.

At Maina’s facility, parents pay Sh16,000 per term for their children in the day care, who are put under a structure and programme to aid in their growth and development.

Says Maina; "When children come here, we seek to accommodate their age, individuality and cultural background. We pay individual attention to the kids and put them under two major programmes— the feeding programme and toilet training for children of two years and above."

Younger children

While the institution’s policy dictates that they accept children of one year and above, there are some parents who bring younger children — but with solid reasons. "Others bring months old children for about a week as they run their own errands or before they find a nanny. We have heard enough children of ‘crazy ages’ such as six months, although some parents require us to watch their kids for several hours."

Besides the feeding and toilet training programmes, children here are introduced to art, music, dance structured play and free play.

At a separate fee, children have several extracurricular activities such as piano lessons, swimming, horse riding, taekwondo and even playing the recorder.

"Our aim is to normalise the child and instill in them confidence as well as self-esteem. Children need that feeling of security and happiness in the company of others. They need to feel the genuine interest in them and also someone to answer their numerous questions," says Maina.

While the school provides two 200ml packets of milk everyday on request, parents are expected to pack snacks and lunch for their kids. In the event that a child gets hurt within the institution, the children have a health insurance which covers them until their parents decide otherwise.