Day 1: Saturday – The Journey Begins (Kind Of)

The plan was simple: fly from Birmingham, England, to Amsterdam, Holland, then onward to Nairobi, Kenya. One smooth journey with an overnight hotel stay before heading out to begin our volunteering mission.

What actually happened was… not quite so simple.

We arrived in Nairobi late in the evening, feeling a mix of excitement and exhaustion. But that buzz quickly shifted to confusion as we began collecting luggage. Out of the 56 volunteers, 89 bags were missing. Yes—eighty-nine. Either still in Birmingham or stuck somewhere in Amsterdam. The mood dropped instantly. There were worried faces and lots of phone calls. A logistical nightmare.

Not the start we hoped for. But hey, this is volunteering. It’s never just about the plan—it’s about the response.

Day 2: Sunday 18 May 2025 – Long Day, Heavy Lifting, And A History Lesson

After a night in a Nairobi hotel, Faye and I volunteered to stay back another day while the rest of the team moved ahead. The mission? Track down the missing luggage.

We made two more trips to the airport. Each time, sorting through bags, lifting heavy suitcases off conveyor belts, checking names, moving everything onto trolleys. Hard work in the Nairobi heat, but we were determined.

We also had to pay £150 in Customs duty for the donations we brought—frustrating, but necessary.

Our driver, Sam, became our unofficial guide to Kenya. In between airport runs, he told me incredible stories:

• In 1898, two lions near Mombasa attacked and killed 28 Indian workers building a railway.
• Just last year, on 25 June 2024, thousands of protesters stormed Kenya’s Parliament over new tax bills. Fires were set. Tragically, 19 people died as police responded with gunfire.
• China built Nairobi’s new bypass under the Belt and Road Initiative, aiming to connect African markets to Chinese trade routes. Kenya’s mineral-rich land is a big part of that story.

Exhausted, sweaty, and still short on luggage, we finally called it a night.

Day 3: Monday 19 May 2025 – From Lost Luggage to Found Joy

Two hours of sleep. That’s all Faye and I managed before heading back to the airport—one last try to retrieve the remaining luggage.

Together, we collected 73 bags. Still, 16 were missing. Kenya Airways promised to look for the rest and deliver them. But I couldn’t help feeling gutted. I’d wanted every volunteer to have their bags. I felt like I let them down.

Then came the next leg of the journey: the four-hour drive to Nakuru.

On the road, I saw a different side of Kenya—one of hardship and hope. Children walking long distances to school. Families washing clothes in rivers. People selling goods from small wooden stalls. Yet, there was also beauty—wildebeests, zebras, and even a lone giraffe in the distance.

Sam, always full of knowledge, continued to share:

• Runners we passed were training at high altitude (1,500m above sea level). No wonder Kenya produces such incredible athletes.
• He spoke about farmers walking their cows over 200 km from Nakuru to the Masai Mara—an epic journey for grazing that takes days.
• The train line from Nairobi to Nakuru was built in the colonial era as part of the Uganda Railway. These days, the Kisumu Safari Train runs just twice a week.

Finally, we arrived in Nakuru and rushed to West End Academy.

Despite being sleep-deprived, I was overwhelmed with emotion. As we pulled in, children came running, shouting my name. Sara—a girl I’ve seen for four years—jumped into my arms, smiling from ear to ear. I missed the opening ceremony with singing and dancing, but that moment… it made up for everything.

By the evening, I was running on empty. Struggling to think, to speak. But my heart was full.

Day 4: Tuesday 20 May 2025 – Building and Belonging

Today was my first full day back at West End Academy—and I’m proud to say it’s my fourth year returning here. There’s a special kind of joy in seeing the double-storey classroom that we’ve helped build over the last three years now standing tall. It’s more than just a building—it’s a symbol of hope, progress, and community.

However, it was disheartening to learn that half of the school’s playground has been returned to the landlord for sale. In a place where space is already limited, losing even a small portion of the playground feels like a big loss for the children.

I spent most of today helping build a new firewood storage area. Until now, firewood has been left scattered on the playground, reducing the already limited space for the children to play. And in any school—especially here—play is vital. It’s not just about fun. It’s about development, social learning, and joy. Clearing the playground means giving the children their space back.

We also walked to the timber yard and hardware shop for supplies—an eye-opening experience. In Kenya’s slums, these places are so different from what we’re used to in the UK. No big commercial warehouses here—just small, informal setups, often run by families, where supplies are stacked sky-high and sold by weight and negotiation. The timber we ordered? Delivered by a man pulling a cart. That’s real graft.

On the way back, I had the chance to speak to a local furniture maker and admire his handcrafted wooden beds. Each piece was made with such pride and precision. No machines. Just hands, tools, and heart. A true craftsman at work.

Day 5: Wednesday 21 May 2025 – Hugs and Hard Work

This morning, as I arrived at West End Academy, little toddler Ria came rushing towards me, arms open wide. A hug was clearly on her mind. She soon fell asleep in my arms and I learned she had the flu. It reminded me how, when children are unwell, they instinctively seek comfort and security—sometimes just a warm hug can make them feel safe enough to rest and heal.

The double-storey classroom is nearly there, but today we hit a snag. The ceiling boards need to be installed, but the wooden trusses built last year weren’t straight. It meant a full day of reinforcing the structure with new planks—hard work under the hot sun. Still, every nail and plank we place brings us closer to giving these kids a better place to learn.

It’s in these small tasks—correcting crooked beams, carrying supplies—that the big changes happen. One board at a time.

Day 6: Thursday 22 May 2025 – Paint, Phonics, and Purpose

There’s something truly special about the babies and toddlers at West End Academy. Today, little Morra—always full of life—shouted “Jambo!” and greeted me with her signature sunshine smile. As we cuddled, I took one of my favourite selfies of the trip. She’s definitely not camera shy!

We spent the day painting ceiling boards in glaring white. By the end of it, my eyes were sore—the sunlight bouncing off the boards was blinding. White reflects a lot of light, and when you’re surrounded by it under the intense Kenyan sun, the glare can be brutal. Still, it’s all worth it to bring the classroom to life.

In the afternoon, I stepped into the classroom to teach phonics to the youngest students. Learning to read is the foundation for all education. Phonics gives them the tools to decode language—a gift that can change the course of their lives.

Later, I joined a session on HIV/AIDS with the older students. These discussions are so important. They create a space for honest questions and help break the stigma. Awareness is a powerful tool in fighting misinformation and empowering the next generation to protect themselves and others.

To top off a busy day, I decided to finally get my hair cut. I’ve been growing it since last June for this moment. Let’s just say, the Kenyan barber gave me an experience—and a very unique haircut. My fringe has a whole new angle to it… I’ll be fixing that as soon as I get home!

Day 7: Friday 23 May 2025 – Fires, Foundations and Friendships

Today we continued building storage for the firewood at West End Academy—this time, we even tested it by pretending to capture a few children inside (they thought it was hilarious).

The firewood is crucial here. It fuels the fire used to cook daily lunches for the students. Electricity isn’t something they can rely on—it cuts out too often, and even when it works, it’s expensive. These small practical solutions make a big difference to daily life at school.

Later, we began demolishing the old concrete base of the flagpole to create more space for the children. Every extra metre of space is a chance for play, sports, and learning outdoors.

As we were picking up volunteers from a nearby school, I jumped off the bus and purchased chips from a stall seller opposite. They were so nice!

This evening was incredibly special. We had dinner with Diana, Joseph, Alice and Aedlaitexian—students we first met over a decade ago. Seeing them now, all grown up with families of their own, is overwhelming in the best way. From little children in classrooms to confident adults—it’s a privilege to have witnessed their journey.

Day 8: Saturday 24 May 2025 – Reflections at Lake Nakuru

Today, we visited Lake Nakuru National Park. The guilt of not being with the children at West End lingered a bit, but rest is important. And this place—nestled in Kenya’s Great Rift Valley—is truly breathtaking.

We saw giraffes, baboons, impalas, waterbucks, hippos, and even a lone male lion. Being in the presence of wild animals, in their natural habitat, has a humbling effect. It reminds you of your place in the world, of the importance of conservation, and the need to preserve these magnificent species and their fragile ecosystems.

Lake Nakuru covers 73 square miles and was established in 1961. Sadly, since 2021, the rising water levels due to climate change have led to major challenges—displacing animals, submerging park infrastructure, and changing the ecosystem’s balance. The average depth is now just one foot in places.

Today was about stepping back and soaking in the beauty of Kenya’s landscapes. Monday, it’s back to the children, the building, the mission. But for now, I’m thankful—for nature, for moments of peace, and for the chance to be here.

Day 9: Sunday 25 May 2025 – A Rest with Restless Thoughts

Today was a rest day — something vital for both physical recovery and mental clarity on a trip like this. We spent the day by the poolside at Merica Hotel, one of the rare luxury places in Nakuru. It felt indulgent, almost like stepping out of the reality I know here. The sun was warm, the water inviting, and the quiet time was needed.

But even in that calm, I couldn’t shake the heavy guilt. While we lay in comfort, just a few miles away, children live with the bare minimum — some with no electricity, running water, or even secure shelter. Rest is important, yes, but so is perspective. The contrast was jarring. That kind of guilt… it doesn’t fade, and maybe that’s a good thing. It keeps you grounded and reminds you why you’re here in the first place.

Day 10: Monday 26 May 2025 – The Loss of Shock

This is around my 20th week in Nakuru over the span of ten trips. And today, something really struck me — I’m no longer shocked by the poverty, the conditions, the things that once made me stop and stare with wide eyes and a broken heart. And that scares me.

I’ve grown used to sights that should never be normalised: children walking barefoot on rough ground, makeshift homes built from scrap, and the resilience people have just to survive. I miss being shocked, because being shocked means you’re not okay with the way things are. It means your heart is still raw and alert to injustice. I never want to lose that edge — that pain that turns into purpose.

On a brighter note, we arrived at West End Academy to discover that the electricity we helped fund had been successfully installed in all classrooms over the weekend. This is life-changing. It means lessons can extend into the evening if needed, that students can use technology, and teachers can prepare in better conditions. Education thrives with light — literally and metaphorically.

One little soul, toddler Morra, ran up to me as soon as I walked in. We sat on a step, and I pulled up Peppa Pig on YouTube. Her face lit up with a joy that hit me hard. Just a short clip of a cartoon, and she was mesmerised. It reminded me of what children deserve — simple pleasures, stimulation, and wonder. Morra doesn’t have electricity at home, let alone a screen. But her smile today told me how important access to such resources can be for development and happiness. Children’s programmes like that aren’t just entertainment — they teach language, emotions, empathy, and imagination. Every child deserves that.

Day 11: Tuesday 27 May – The Power of New Skills and Old Faces

Today I stepped out of my usual comfort zone and into something completely different — tiling. Helping to tile the classroom floor was oddly satisfying. It’s physical, it’s practical, and you see the results of your efforts almost instantly. There’s something healing in doing things you’re not used to — it brings growth and presence.

The day became even more special when, in th evening, a young man approached me with a beaming smile. It was James. I met him during my very first trip here in 2014 — he was a small, shy 10-year-old back then. Now, he’s 21, confident, and working in the events industry. Seeing him reminded me why we do this. It’s not just about bricks and buildings — it’s about nurturing human lives. James is proof that with care, support, and opportunity, children can rise beyond circumstance.

Day 12: Wednesday 28 May – Little Joys, Big Impact

We continued tiling today — there’s something about seeing a classroom take shape from the floor up that feels deeply rewarding.

At the hotel, chocolate doughnuts had been set out for breakfast, but no one was eating them. I asked the manager if I could take them to the children — he agreed. The kids at West End Academy don’t often get sweet treats like that. Watching their faces light up with joy over something so simple was beautiful and humbling. It’s a reminder of how far even the smallest gestures can go.

Ben, another volunteer, mounted a basketball hoop and net he brought from the UK. Watching the children laugh, run, and shoot hoops for the first time was incredible. Sports create unity, confidence, and fun. It gives them a chance to just be kids.

We also delivered material for twenty brand-new tables and chairs, made on-site by local Kenyan craftsmen. Watching the furniture come together was fascinating — it’s more than functional; it’s empowering to invest in local skills and economy.

Later, we handed out 2–3 outfits per child during our donation day. Each piece had been carried over in our luggage. Watching them receive their clothes — some for the first time that truly fit or felt “theirs” — was emotional. Clothing brings confidence and dignity. Their faces told stories I won’t forget.

Day 13: Thursday 29 May – Hope in Full Bloom

One year ago, I met Mercy Nash, the mother of two students, Millicent and Brigette. I gave her a pair of jelly shoes and 2,000 Kenyan Shillings (about £13) to help her start a small stall. Today, she’s still running that stall — but now it’s stocked with fruit, vegetables, and boiled eggs. She’s grown her business and is now able to support her children’s education. Her journey symbolises resilience, and I’m incredibly proud of her.

This morning, we walked with the students to a nearby school for a joint sports day with Jubilee School. Tug-of-war, athletics, football — the joy was contagious. The cheers, the laughter, the healthy competition. It reminded me how universal play is. It’s not about winning; it’s about feeling alive.

As we walked through town, locals greeted us warmly. That wasn’t always the case. In the early years, many were skeptical — unsure of our purpose. But now, they recognise us, welcome us. One greengrocer even gave me a hug — I bought fruit from her last year. These relationships matter deeply.

In the afternoon, the team reinstalled the playground swing and slide. Seeing the kids’ excitement was worth every drop of sweat. Then, it was back to tiling — one more corner of the classroom completed.

Day 14: Friday 30 May – A Heartbreaking Goodbye

Today was our last day at West End Academy for this year — and it never gets easier. Saying goodbye hurts.

Morra clung to me this afternoon. She wouldn’t settle for anyone else, and not long after, she fell asleep in my arms. When we had to leave, she reached for me, crying. I had to walk away with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. These moments break you and rebuild you at the same time.

We completed the upstairs classroom — a huge achievement. It was especially meaningful doing it alongside my dad, my brother, and amazing volunteers like Chippy. There’s something incredibly bonding about building something together — a legacy of hope, layer by layer.

The day ended with a beautiful presentation led by Valentine, the school’s director. Her words of thanks were heartfelt, and every smile in that room reaffirmed the impact of what we’re doing.

Later at the hotel, we celebrated. Representatives from all five schools we supported this year shared their achievements. It was a powerful way to close this journey — not just a goodbye, but a celebration of progress and resilience.

As I reflect on this tenth trip, I’m filled with gratitude. The stories, the friendships, the moments of joy and sorrow — they stay with me. Nakuru has shaped me more than I could ever shape it. I’ll be back. Until next time, Kenya — thank you for welcoming us, for teaching us, and for reminding us what really matters.

The Power of Collective Action – Reflections on My 10th Humanitarian Trip to Nakuru, Kenya

Over the last two weeks in Nakuru, Kenya, during my tenth humanitarian trip and my fourth time supporting West End Academy, I’ve been reminded once again of the incredible power of community, determination, and heart. It’s easy to look at a list of what we’ve achieved and see accomplishments—but when you’re on the ground, each of those tasks tells a story, each improvement is a life changed, and every effort is a brick in the foundation of hope.

As a team, we rolled up our sleeves and left nothing untouched. The upstairs classroom is now fully tiled—a far cry from the dusty, unfinished space it once was. New ceilings in four classrooms have helped to create brighter, safer environments for learning, and two new wood stores have brought practical solutions to an everyday challenge. A giant bookcase now stands proudly in one of the classrooms—home to an ever-growing collection of stories, facts, and dreams.

We made a small but important change by building a pathway to the kitchen door, and another by relocating the flagpole—small details that create more space, more flow, and more safety for the children. The swing and slide were reinstated, and the sound of laughter quickly returned to the playground. It reminded me that children need more than just education—they need to play, to feel joy, to just be kids.

Three classrooms were freshly painted—not just for aesthetic, but with an educational focus, bringing vibrant energy and functionality to the learning spaces. Thanks to the incredible work of our team and supporters back home, 120 school girls were gifted beautifully made dresses. And if that wasn’t enough, every single student received 2 to 3 new outfits, toys, teddies, and stationery supplies—items that might seem small to us, but mean the world to them.

A particularly emotional milestone was seeing electricity installed and fully operational in all classrooms, thanks to the generous donation from Ashbrook Junior School. It opens up a world of opportunity—lights for reading, power for devices, and a connection to the outside world. It also means more moments like toddler Morra watching Peppa Pig, her face lit up with joy—an experience every child deserves.

We hosted a sports day alongside Jubilee School—an incredible celebration of teamwork, unity, and spirited competition. Twenty brand-new tables and chairs were constructed onsite by local craftsmen, giving students a solid and respectful place to learn. We also provided essential books aligned with the Kenyan syllabus for grades G1 to G5 and PP1/PP2, laying the groundwork for a stronger academic future.

This trip also focused heavily on individual care. We supported young Samuel with medical costs and provided orthopaedic boots, with fundraising ongoing for his much-needed surgery. His resilience is inspiring. Girls aged 8 and above were given reusable sanitary towels handmade by Lilah—something so fundamental, yet often inaccessible—thanks to the care and generosity of Wendy and her family.

We conducted live video calls to Derby Pride Academy and Silverhill Primary, creating a bridge between two worlds, and inspiring young people across continents. We provided food donations to five family households, shared a celebratory meal with all students (again, thank you Wendy and family), and introduced teaching models for art and geography to support the amazing educators at West End.

And something as simple as a chalkboard—50 of them—were provided to students, tools they’ll use every single day to write, learn, dream.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: humanitarian work is not about saviourism. It’s about partnership. It’s about mutual respect, cultural understanding, and recognising potential where others see limitation. West End Academy is bursting with potential. The children, the teachers, the community—they rise every day and work with what they have. We’re just here to help extend that reach, to add our support, to say: we see you, and we believe in you.

As I close the chapter on this 10th trip, I am deeply grateful. To the volunteers who gave their time, the donors who gave their money, the schools and families back home who never stop showing up with love and supplies—to each of you, this was your achievement too.

Nakuru, asante sana. Until next time.
With love and solidarity,
Luke Newman