One Kibera family's farm,
now feeding many.

Kwamboka Ngesa grew up watching her mother raise chickens behind their home in Kibera — not as a business, but as survival. A few hens meant eggs for breakfast. A bird sold at Christmas meant school fees paid. That image never left her.

When the opportunity came to formalize what she had seen done informally her whole life, she started small: a brooder pen, 50 day-old chicks, and the conviction that Kibera deserved a poultry farm it could actually trust — one that wouldn't cut corners on vaccination, wouldn't pretend birds were healthy when they weren't, and wouldn't sell sick stock to neighbours.

What began as a personal mission is now the farm behind the chicks in hundreds of Nairobi households. We still raise every bird from day one — hatching in our own incubators, brooding under careful watch, vaccinating before any chick leaves the farm. No shortcuts.

The name Kwamboka means “one who has crossed over” — from struggle to something steadier. That's the whole story in a single word.