basket glass sisal
somethingfromafrica
Hand-made sustainable items, supporting local people in Kenya
basket glass sisal
somethingfromafrica
At this time, products on this website are only available to purchase from certain Craft Fairs in England, apologies for any inconvenience caused.
Business location
United Kingdom
Not long after I was standing in a warehouse in Nairobi looking at thousands of baskets, I become concerned about the working conditions....... after many adventures, I found out!
“They are such a happy and productive group of ladies, they made the best out of everything they have, they didn't ask for anything and were absolutely overjoyed that I came with ample supplies of maize flour"”
This journey began when a friend introduced me to a small but resourceful warehouse in Nairobi, showcasing beautifully designed baskets and bags made from Sisal fibre. The space wasn’t expansive, but every corner was effectively utilized.
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Curious about the origins of these products, my first thought was, What are the working conditions like for those crafting these items?
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A few months later, I had the chance to visit one of the artisan communities. What I discovered was heartwarming: the workspace was welcoming and filled with happy, friendly individuals. Most artisans worked from home, enabling them to balance their craft with family life. Their primary concerns were providing essentials such as food, water, and education for their children. To save on transportation costs, the artisans would gather weekly or fortnightly to exchange ideas and materials.
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I then met a talented artist who hand-etched and repurposed used glass bottles into stunning glasses and bowls. Additionally, I discovered another artisan creating eco-friendly boxes from banana leaves and other natural fibres, perfect for packaging these glass products sustainably.
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My passion for sustainability grew as I uncovered innovative ways to reuse and reduce waste, such as finding “green” bubble wrap made from biodegradable materials to protect the glasses. While sourcing similar materials locally in Kenya remains a challenge, my commitment to eco-friendly practices continues to guide every aspect of this endeavor.
Visiting the ladies who make the baskets
The next chapter of my journey began with a visit to a wholesale factory in Nairobi, Kenya, where baskets from various rural areas are delivered in large quantities. The factory was vibrant, with cheerful staff who made my experience unforgettable. While purchasing a few baskets, my curiosity was piqued: Where do these baskets come from? How do they transform from a plant into such stunning creations?
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This curiosity set me on an adventure. After visiting the factory a few times with guests, I obtained contact details for one group of basket-making artisans and arranged a meeting. Early one morning, I embarked on a journey to Matuu, a town 120 km northeast of Langata.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by two radiant women at a fuel station, their smiles as bright as the Kenyan sun. One of them, Janet, stood out with her warm and welcoming demeanor. Janet and many others in the area belong to the Kamba tribe, who speak the Kikamba language, part of the Bantu family.
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Matuu, located in Kenya's eastern region, experiences a dry climate with limited rainfall and frequent droughts. This environment is ideal for cultivating the Agave Sisalana plant, the source of Sisal fibre (pronounced "size-all"). These plants grow to about a metre in height, with sharp, pointed leaves that yield a creamy, durable fibre.
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Sisal fibre has a remarkable range of uses, from crafting carpets, ropes, and bags to clothing and materials for the building industry. Before the proliferation of cheap and environmentally harmful plastics, sisal was highly prized for its durability and versatility. A single plant can be harvested up to 20 times, making it a sustainable and invaluable resource.
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This journey not only deepened my appreciation for the artisans’ craft but also reaffirmed my commitment to showcasing and supporting these beautiful, sustainable products.
Janet guided us toward her village, casually mentioning it was "just down there." At the time, I didn’t think much of it—27.5 kilometers later, I fully understood her interpretation of "just down there"!
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The journey from Matuu to Yumbuni Village was captivating. Along the way, locals waved cheerfully, and children ran alongside our vehicle, their laughter filling the air. Janet mentioned I was making history, as I was the first white visitor to the village. As we traveled, the landscape became increasingly arid, with trees and crops thinning out and traditional village huts dotting the horizon. Surprisingly, unlike many areas in Kenya, where litter accumulates near towns, this route was spotless—a testament to the community's care for their environment.
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We passed through Ngangangi Market town, where villagers often rely on motorbikes for transport, as it is the only way to access essential supplies. Around 65 families reside in this area. Shortly after, we came across a well, which appeared to be a modern structure. However, Janet explained it had been dry for some time. She mentioned a second well closer to their village, but fetching water from it requires a two-hour round trip on foot—a journey they must make almost daily.
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Carts pulled by oxen were a common sight, used to transport tools to the fields and bring produce back. Janet shared that rainfall had not blessed the region since March, seven months earlier. Despite this, people continued preparing the fields, holding out hope for rain.
As we talked, Janet revealed more about her life. She is a mother of five and has been crafting beautiful Sisal fibre products for 12 years. The craft is predominantly undertaken by women, while men often seek manual labor opportunities. Both men and women, however, work the fields, preparing them for cultivation.
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Janet works alongside 14 other women in her village. While they gather weekly to collaborate, most of their weaving is done at home due to the prohibitive transportation costs—some women face a two-hour walk just to join the group.
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Primary education is accessible to all children in the area and costs approximately 2,500 KSH ($25 USD) per term. However, secondary education depends on a family's financial situation, with fees amounting to 8,000 KSH ($80 USD) per term.
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This journey not only deepened my admiration for the artisans and their crafts but also highlighted their resilience and the importance of supporting sustainable practices that empower communities like Janet’s.
The closest main town is Matuu, where an acre of land costs approximately 150,000 KSH ($1,500). However, here in the more rural areas where the ladies work, the price rises to around 300,000 KSH ($3,000). While this may not sound exorbitant, in a country where 40% of the population is unemployed and the average monthly wage for those employed is just $100, owning such a piece of land is either a lifetime achievement for the fortunate few or an unattainable dream for most.
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As we neared the village, dirt and rocky paths were bordered by Agave Sisalana plants, marking boundaries in a rustic yet charming way. The absence of litter stood out—a testament to the community’s care. Janet explained that strict rules forbid charcoal production and logging, preserving the environment. The main staples here are Githeri, a light vegetable stew, and Ugali, a dense maize flour dish resembling a cross between mashed potato and playdough. I was glad I had brought 10 bags of maize flour as a token of appreciation for allowing me to visit their village.
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In this region, waste is virtually nonexistent. For instance, maize stems are repurposed as cattle fodder, valued for their salty flavor. Wealth in these parts is often measured by livestock, and owning six cattle is considered a mark of prosperity. The land, predominantly rocky, once provided income from stone sales, but the market for these rocks has collapsed over the past year, significantly affecting the area’s economy.
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Upon arriving at the village, I was met with an overwhelmingly warm and cheerful welcome from the ladies. Communicating was a delightful process, albeit time-consuming. My words were translated from English to Kiswahili and then into Kikamba so that everyone could understand. Any inaccuracies in the details shared stem from this multi-layered translation process, for which I apologize in advance.
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The highlight of the visit was when the ladies offered to demonstrate the entire basket-making process, from start to finish—a wonderful opportunity to witness their craftsmanship firsthand
From the moment I stood in a bustling basket factory in Nairobi, wondering about the working conditions of the artisans who crafted these beautiful pieces, to the heartfelt experience of meeting them in person, the journey has been extraordinary.
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The women I met were a vibrant, happy, and resourceful group who made the absolute most of what they had. They worked with pride, creativity, and resilience, never asking for anything, but their gratitude was immeasurable when I brought them supplies of maize flour as a small token of thanks.
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Their warmth and joy were contagious, and the experience of being welcomed so wholeheartedly into their community left a lasting impression. What a remarkable and inspiring group of women they are, showcasing the true beauty of human connection and shared purpose.
