Vasey Housing Scheme, nowadays Majengo, in Thika. Houses in the front row are some of the original stone houses. In the back are the recently built multi-storey flats. @Martina Barker-Ciganikova

Where is Vasey?

 

 

Martina Barker-Ciganikova

“Where is Vasey?” In search of a colonial housing scheme    

Digging through the Kenya National Archives files on colonial housing in Thika, my primary focus soon became the Vasey Housing Scheme. While, in general, the housing shortage in Kenya was described as “acute” in 1945, by 1949 the responsible officials even talked of a “state of emergency” having a “serious moral effect”. It is in this context that in 1950 Ernest Vasey, the then Minister for Local Government, issued his report promoting, specifically, owner-occupied housing as a partial solution to the problem. Home-ownership was believed to stabilize the working class, promote social mobility and create a responsible middle class (to which power could be handed over at independence). The Vasey pilot scheme was to be implemented in Thika and the construction works were to be given “immediate priority”.

The colonial files allow a detailed insight into the hard facts, origins and evolution of the Vasey scheme and reveal the plethora of actors directly associated with it. Paging through the files, expressions of euphoria give way to frustration. While at its inception in 1951, the scheme was celebrated as an alternative answer to Kenya’s housing difficulties, only a couple of years later, in 1954, the District Commissioner complained: “The scheme is a menace not only to public health and morality but to the security of the Township”. In 1957, the demolition of 90 per cent of the houses was contemplated due to their dilapidated state…

The historical detail and nuances provided are spectacular. Sitting in the dusty archives, I can almost feel the bewilderment of the responsible European Housing Officer (posted in Thika for the first time in his life and left on his own by the Central Government) trying to supervise a scheme of more than 200 houses being erected by the same number of African contractors and no two houses of the same pattern or size.

The subsequent research step to be undertaken was obvious: I wanted to know what became of the Vasey Scheme, what had remained of the houses and homes. Were the physical structures still present or did the scheme survive in memory only? Even if it was still extant, how to find it? Thika of 1951, a small township, bore only little resemblance to Thika of 2018, one of the busiest bustling industrial hubs of Kenya. The only indicator as to the precise location I had was a small map of the scheme, actually only a sketch of individual houses from the archives, indicating that the scheme lay close to the St. Patrick’s Primary School.

With my Kikuyu driver/guide Henry, we entered Thika and circled the town. Houses everywhere. Old, new, fancy, shabby. We managed to locate St. Patrick’s Primary School, but there were too many houses in the vicinity and we did not know whether to look east or west of it. Our presence attracted considerable attention and soon we were encircled by a group of men, both young and old. “Vasey? Never heard of it!” Henry undertook to explain our undertaking in Kikuyu, not only the scheme but also why we were interested in it. Things got lost in translation. Puzzled glances in our direction. Then the suggestion: “Lets go and ask the wazee” (the elders). We marched through the market into a small food kiosk offering a selection of the entire Kenyan cuisine. According to the young men leading the way, the mama cooking there was supposed to know her way around and remember. She did not. The sun was high, sweat covered our faces. “Try Makongeni,” she suggested. We hopped back into the car and drove to the close-by neighborhood of Makongeni. Explanations, puzzled glances: “Vasey?...Try Magoko”. In Magoko, a tuk-tuk driver, absolutely convinced he knew all about the Vasey Housing Scheme, sent us to Ziwani. It was past midday already, stronger sun, more sweat. The wazee of Ziwani explained, Ziwani was built in the 1960s, this was not what we were looking for. “Why don’t we try the County Council?” Henry suggested. In the County Council’s compound we explained for about the 20th time that day what we were looking for. “Try the town planner’s office”. And finally, then and there, thanks to a phone call to a fellow town planner we got it – “Vasey? That’s Majengo today!” It was said with such certainty, that this time I knew we had found it at last. Finally, someone who remembered.

We drove to Majengo and there it was, rows of stone houses with roofs of corrugated iron sheets. Some dilapidated, others taken care of. Some impeccably clean, others with rubbish lying all around (the Council is responsible for the collection on a weekly basis, but often they do not come, I learn later). Some demolished, with empty lots turned into aspiring businesses, such as a car wash, or just standing vacant with a sign on the half-broken fence: “This plot is not for sale”. And behind the rows of the original houses, the landscape was made of high-story flats - nicer, neater, bigger, and of course more expensive. These were built some 10-15 years ago. Majengo is developing. As one of my interview partners put it during one of my return visits: “Majengo is undergoing a face-lifting”.

I wonder how Ernest Vasey would judge “his” scheme today. Would he be pleased, disappointed? And which indicators can be used to measure the success or failure of a colonial housing scheme?  Is it the mere survival of its physical structures till the present day? The number of people housed? Available services? Though running water, electricity, and sewerage are present in current day Majengo, their quality is sub-optimal. Families of five share one single room and it is not uncommon that up to 40 people share one bathroom.

There is one particular aspect that I imagine Vasey himself might have remained disillusioned about. One of his ultimate hopes was that home-ownership would make the Africans “feel at home” in towns, that they would develop a sense of self-respect and pride of property. The vast majority of owners however are “not around” in Thika, sub-letting their houses to tenants, who do not take particular interest in maintaining their transitory homes and keeping up their surroundings. This one target failed.

The Vasey Housing Scheme, as every housing project extending over a time span of several decades, has turned into a mixture of achievements and setbacks. Though people might not remember the name Vasey, the scheme exists and provides accommodation for thousands of workers and their families not only from Thika, but from all neighboring districts. Its successes and failures are to be judged primarily by them.

 

April, 2018