Quick update from work: cancel the hysterics. Yesterday, Odinga and Kibaki signed a power-sharing agreement allowing for the creation of three new positions, an executive prime minister (which will be Odinga), and two deputy prime ministers, one from each side of the coalition. It's not entirely clear to me what role the Prime Minister will play in parliament -- the newspaper tells me that the PM will "co-ordinate and supervise the affairs of the Government", which is pretty vague. But it's a very positive first step towards peace and reconciliation. Now the hard work begins. I'm sure that Kenya will drop out of international headlines now that an agreement has been reached, although this is where it really gets interesting. Constitutional reform just doesn't sell papers as well as church burning.
Parliament reconvenes next week, on March 6th. I'm anxious to see whether both sides will abide by the conditions of the agreement, and how effective they will be working as a coalition. It is now time to address the issues of widespread poverty, gross political and economic inequality and tribalism. Time to address the needs of the displaced, of the kids who have been missing school for weeks on end or who have lost their families. Time to implement free secondary school education. Time to sort out land rights issues. The cynic in me says that not much of this will come to pass, but at the very least, this is a good opportunity to push for desperately needed changes. This country will take years to recover from the upheaval, so it is crucial to build a stable basis from which that healing can take place.
Oh, and Nairobi has a mayor now too -- the ODM councillor, Geoffry Majiwa, was sworn in after he reached a power-sharing agreement with the PNU councillor on Wednesday. It seems that cooperation is now in vogue.
February 29, 2008
February 27, 2008
Everything is uncertain again; the mediation talks were suspended today, giving Annan the opportunity to meet with Odinga and Kibaki directly. Already running two weeks longer than the initial 15-day period, the talks seemed to be making good progress until late last week. Now, with PNU's refusal to concede any power to the proposed PM position, the two parties have reached a stalemate. Considering that ODM renounced its initial stance calling for Kibaki's resignation and agreed to a collaboration, one would think that PNU would also make some symbolic gesture towards reconciliation. But as George said this morning during one of our way-too-early, half-asleep political discussions, Kibaki is using the constitution as a shield. However, compromises must be made, and if Kibaki believes that he will be able to effectively rule this country by hoarding political power, he is a fool. At this rate, there will hardly be a coherent country left to rule. Anything could happen this week. Already, ODM has called for mass demonstrations, and called them off again. The mood is very pessimistic. Several bitter friends have told me that they will think twice about voting again. If a good chunk of the population feels the same way, voter resentment could effectively squelch Kenya's chances of building a functioning democracy. Then again, is democracy truly functional anywhere in the world?
On the municipal level, mayors were elected by councillors in cities across the country yesterday. ODM made huge gains, winning seats in all the main towns in Coast, Nyanza, Rift Valley and Western. Following the lead of national politics, the mayoral races in Nairobi and Nakuru remain unresolved. Councillors in Nakuru descended into physical violence, and the brawls resulted in the postponment of the election there. In Nairobi, the race ended in a tie. Arguments ensued; at one point, the PNU councillors walked out of the proceedings in protest and only returned after three hours. They were seen to have abdicated and the ODM candidate was declared the winner, but that decision was overturned. There was some suggestion that the winner should be determined by drawing lots, which would be just as absurd as flipping a coin to determine the mayor of the capital city. Eventually, the matter was turned to over to Uhuru Kenyatta, the son of the first president and the current Local Government minister.
In the meantime, the internally displaced people are still living off donations from aid organizations and well-wishers. Health issues are becoming a major problem, due to the lack of proper sanitation facilities and insufficient food and safe drinking water. A few camps have experienced cholera outbreaks, which is both immensely unpleasant and potentially fatal. A few days ago, I wrote an issue paper on indigenous peoples' access to improved sanitation and potable water, so the effects of living in an unhygienic environment are still fresh in my mind. I am positive that many of the people living in the camps are now being exposed to such lovely creatures as intestinal parasites. Access to medication has also been an issue, particularly for HIV positive people that have been cut off from their supplies of antiretroviral drugs. Of the 350,000 plus IDPs, it is estimated that at least 15,000 of these are HIV positive, many of whom had been using ARVs on a regular basis and are now without access. Suddenly stopping the course of medication can severely compromise the immune system, particularly for young children. Put thousands of people stripped of their regular defenses in an unsanitary environment, in very close, constant contact with others and deprive them of essential nutrients, and you've good a pretty substantial health crisis on your hands. It's not that I think that a political resolution would solve the IDP crisis, exactly; I don't have enough faith in either of the parties to believe that any intervention they might make at this stage would be terribly effective. But at the very least, an agreement would prevent the resurgence of widespread violence and destruction of property, which would create an even larger population of refugees. I just wish the politicians could see that this is about much more than parties and tribes and the Presidency -- it's about the future of Kenya as a whole, and thousands of lives hang in the balance.
Of course, Kenyans have an eye on American politics these days as well. Barack Obama, whose father was Kenyan, is a popular fellow around these parts. I've seen his smiling face many times on the road, beaming out from the side of matatus alongside Tupac, Nas and Snoop Dogg. But I'm told that Obama supporters mostly come from the Luo community, his father's group of origin. While Kenyans of other tribes would also be happy to see a black man in the White House, particularly one with Kenyan connections, it's the Luos who would be the most proud, or so they say. But black identity politics thrive in Nairobi, borrowing heavily from African-American movements. Civil rights figures such as Martin Luther King, Malcom X and Rosa Parks are well known and respected. African-American entertainers, from hip hop artists to actors to comedians, are absolutely everywhere. I'm sure that a win from Obama would be very welcome.
On a more mundane note, recently my morning commute has been rerouted, due to the outrageous traffic along Jogoo road (Rooster road), which is the most direct path to town. It's not consistent because the matatu routes change depending on the whims of the driver, which can be a bit tricky if you don't know exactly where you're going. But I do love it when we stay off the main road, as it means that we pass through a hectic little neighbourhood called Jericho. Many of the neighbourhoods in Nairobi have these evocative place names. In addition to Jericho, there is also Jerusalem, Kosovo, Baghdad and Soweto. Jericho is a 'project' community; most of the housing was government-built, short concrete flats painted cheerful colours and all lined up in a row, and larger, grey apartment buildings. Wooden shanties with corrugated iron roofs are crowded in between the government housing. And then there are the markets, the sprawling network of stalls selling jiko stoves, pots and pans, bike parts and clueless live chickens. There is also a nauseating section where huge quantities of raw meat is divided up and driven off to its various vendors, right there on the side of the road with the dust and the flies. I try not to think of where my neighbourhood butchery gets its meat. The best part of driving through Jericho is passing by all the shops with their quirky hand-painted signs and charming names. Mercy Butchery is decorated with blood oozing in great gobs from every corner. Jesus is Lord Hair Salon features somewhat frightening religious iconography, red crosses and angry-looking doves. Yoghurt and Jazz Bar II intrigues me every time, and makes me wonder about the first Yoghurt and Jazz Bar. But my absolute favourite is a simple little shop with a sign that reads Laundry and Ironic Services.
In work news, I may be heading to Burundi in a few weeks to help out with/act as a translator for a preparatory meeting for the 9th Conference of Parties on the Convention on Biological Diversity. Representatives of indigenous organizations from Burundi, Rwanda, Uganda and DRC will be in attendance. It will only be for a few days, but it should be interesting.
As always, I am staying as safe and informed as possible, and will try to keep you updated on the situation as it progresses. At least my neighbourhood is very secure, and I can hole up at home or even take of to Tanzania if need be. But, fingers and toes crossed, it won't come to that.
On the municipal level, mayors were elected by councillors in cities across the country yesterday. ODM made huge gains, winning seats in all the main towns in Coast, Nyanza, Rift Valley and Western. Following the lead of national politics, the mayoral races in Nairobi and Nakuru remain unresolved. Councillors in Nakuru descended into physical violence, and the brawls resulted in the postponment of the election there. In Nairobi, the race ended in a tie. Arguments ensued; at one point, the PNU councillors walked out of the proceedings in protest and only returned after three hours. They were seen to have abdicated and the ODM candidate was declared the winner, but that decision was overturned. There was some suggestion that the winner should be determined by drawing lots, which would be just as absurd as flipping a coin to determine the mayor of the capital city. Eventually, the matter was turned to over to Uhuru Kenyatta, the son of the first president and the current Local Government minister.
In the meantime, the internally displaced people are still living off donations from aid organizations and well-wishers. Health issues are becoming a major problem, due to the lack of proper sanitation facilities and insufficient food and safe drinking water. A few camps have experienced cholera outbreaks, which is both immensely unpleasant and potentially fatal. A few days ago, I wrote an issue paper on indigenous peoples' access to improved sanitation and potable water, so the effects of living in an unhygienic environment are still fresh in my mind. I am positive that many of the people living in the camps are now being exposed to such lovely creatures as intestinal parasites. Access to medication has also been an issue, particularly for HIV positive people that have been cut off from their supplies of antiretroviral drugs. Of the 350,000 plus IDPs, it is estimated that at least 15,000 of these are HIV positive, many of whom had been using ARVs on a regular basis and are now without access. Suddenly stopping the course of medication can severely compromise the immune system, particularly for young children. Put thousands of people stripped of their regular defenses in an unsanitary environment, in very close, constant contact with others and deprive them of essential nutrients, and you've good a pretty substantial health crisis on your hands. It's not that I think that a political resolution would solve the IDP crisis, exactly; I don't have enough faith in either of the parties to believe that any intervention they might make at this stage would be terribly effective. But at the very least, an agreement would prevent the resurgence of widespread violence and destruction of property, which would create an even larger population of refugees. I just wish the politicians could see that this is about much more than parties and tribes and the Presidency -- it's about the future of Kenya as a whole, and thousands of lives hang in the balance.
Of course, Kenyans have an eye on American politics these days as well. Barack Obama, whose father was Kenyan, is a popular fellow around these parts. I've seen his smiling face many times on the road, beaming out from the side of matatus alongside Tupac, Nas and Snoop Dogg. But I'm told that Obama supporters mostly come from the Luo community, his father's group of origin. While Kenyans of other tribes would also be happy to see a black man in the White House, particularly one with Kenyan connections, it's the Luos who would be the most proud, or so they say. But black identity politics thrive in Nairobi, borrowing heavily from African-American movements. Civil rights figures such as Martin Luther King, Malcom X and Rosa Parks are well known and respected. African-American entertainers, from hip hop artists to actors to comedians, are absolutely everywhere. I'm sure that a win from Obama would be very welcome.
On a more mundane note, recently my morning commute has been rerouted, due to the outrageous traffic along Jogoo road (Rooster road), which is the most direct path to town. It's not consistent because the matatu routes change depending on the whims of the driver, which can be a bit tricky if you don't know exactly where you're going. But I do love it when we stay off the main road, as it means that we pass through a hectic little neighbourhood called Jericho. Many of the neighbourhoods in Nairobi have these evocative place names. In addition to Jericho, there is also Jerusalem, Kosovo, Baghdad and Soweto. Jericho is a 'project' community; most of the housing was government-built, short concrete flats painted cheerful colours and all lined up in a row, and larger, grey apartment buildings. Wooden shanties with corrugated iron roofs are crowded in between the government housing. And then there are the markets, the sprawling network of stalls selling jiko stoves, pots and pans, bike parts and clueless live chickens. There is also a nauseating section where huge quantities of raw meat is divided up and driven off to its various vendors, right there on the side of the road with the dust and the flies. I try not to think of where my neighbourhood butchery gets its meat. The best part of driving through Jericho is passing by all the shops with their quirky hand-painted signs and charming names. Mercy Butchery is decorated with blood oozing in great gobs from every corner. Jesus is Lord Hair Salon features somewhat frightening religious iconography, red crosses and angry-looking doves. Yoghurt and Jazz Bar II intrigues me every time, and makes me wonder about the first Yoghurt and Jazz Bar. But my absolute favourite is a simple little shop with a sign that reads Laundry and Ironic Services.
In work news, I may be heading to Burundi in a few weeks to help out with/act as a translator for a preparatory meeting for the 9th Conference of Parties on the Convention on Biological Diversity. Representatives of indigenous organizations from Burundi, Rwanda, Uganda and DRC will be in attendance. It will only be for a few days, but it should be interesting.
As always, I am staying as safe and informed as possible, and will try to keep you updated on the situation as it progresses. At least my neighbourhood is very secure, and I can hole up at home or even take of to Tanzania if need be. But, fingers and toes crossed, it won't come to that.
February 21, 2008
Somehow our computers at work have been infected by a political virus. When you open an internet browser on any of the machines on the network, the first page that opens is brimming with Raila Odinga propaganda. How tiresome.
Weeks later, ODM and PNU are still in discussions. The latest news is that Kibaki is dragging his feet about the proposed formation of an executive prime ministerial position. He says that he would prefer to reach an agreement within the current constiutional structure and work out the PM position and constitutional reforms within a year. Of course he would prefer that. From what I can tell, the President's powers over parliament and the country are such that any agreement formed within the current structure would be mostly for show. Amazingly, although he is constantly in damage control mode since politicians continue to issue public statements after he has asked them repeatedly not to do so, Kofi Annan remains publically optimistic. The guy deserves an award for remaining absolutely calm, focused and on message in the face of such chaos, greed and immaturity. That's real leadership.
Condoleezza Rice came to town on Monday to add the Americans' call for power-sharing to the international pressure. Bush himself is on a mad dash around Africa, visiting five countries in six days. Kenya is not on the itinerary, though it is one of the major topics of discussion on the tour. Oddly enough, Kenya was also skipped on the last tour of Africa. The purpose of the tour appears to be mostly self-promotion, though he is also taking the time to give aid money. You can't do much more than that with six days. I believe he was only in Uganda for four hours. Here, Rice's presence was not met with much welcome. There were quite a few articles and letters in the papers to the effect of "don't tell us what to do" and "the US isn't in charge here", which is fair enough. People are tired of donors and 'well-wishers' and Western powers telling them how to run their country. There's also a great conspiracy theory going around that Air Force One is equipped with technology designed to disrupt the communication systems of any country that the President is visiting. Apparently it was designed as such so that any potential terrorists in the area would be unable to organize an attack. Obviously it must be true, since last time Bush was in Uganda, the mobile servers crashed!
Recently I've been working on my languages -- at work I'm translating articles related to the Covention on Biological Diversity (for which a Conference of Parties is coming up soon) into French for a Batwa organization in Burundi, as well as any other French-speaking indigenous groups that may be in attendance. The translation is a bit funny because the papers were originally written in English by a woman whose first language is Tagalog, I think; they are being translated by me, whose first language is English; and will be read by people whose first languages will be indigenous languages, with French as their second or third or fourth language. So we're all a bit out of our element, I suppose. It's been slow going, and I'd feel a bit more confident with someone to proof-read, but I'm happy to have the chance to improve my written French. Perhaps I'll meet someone to speak it with as well. I've also finally signed up for Kiswahili lessons through the Anglican Church of Kenya. They teach English, Kiswahili, various local languages and foreign languages to prepare local and foreign missionaries for work in all parts of the world. I should be starting at two hours, twice a week next week.
Meanwhile, I've been reading a great book by journalist Michaela Wrong called In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz. It's an account of the rise and fall of Mobutu Sese Seko, the former dictator of the country then known as Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of Congo. I haven't gotten very far yet, but so far it's been extremely interesting. Last time I was in Kenya, I read a book by the same author about the Eritrean revolution, called I Didn't Do It For You. It was absolutely fascinating, with tales of espionage, building railroads through impossible terrain, and learned revolutionaries performing piano concertos underground. That book kindled in me a desparate desire to visit Eritrea, though I understand that it's not exactly safe for travel at the moment. I would recommend either book to anyone interested in African history and politics, or just a damn good story. For that matter, another book about the history of the DRC, this one about horrors suffered by the people of Congo during the colonial era, is King Leopold's Ghost by Adam Hochschild. It's very disturbing, but well worth a look.
We're continuing to search for an apartment further West, though it's proving slightly more difficult than anticipated. It turns out that the people who post ads for apartments in the newspaper are con artists. They don't actually rent out apartments directly, but act as agents, taking you around to different residences. Which is great, until they start demanding fees for each apartment that they show you. It's hard to say whether you will find an apartment or run out of money first. For this reason, most people find apartments through friends, but unfortunately we don't have many connections in South B or C. My former landlady in South C did say that she would call me if she found anything suitable, but I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, we'll be staying in Buruburu, making the long commute, resisting seduction by the second-hand clothing market and eating the best mangos of our lives.
Weeks later, ODM and PNU are still in discussions. The latest news is that Kibaki is dragging his feet about the proposed formation of an executive prime ministerial position. He says that he would prefer to reach an agreement within the current constiutional structure and work out the PM position and constitutional reforms within a year. Of course he would prefer that. From what I can tell, the President's powers over parliament and the country are such that any agreement formed within the current structure would be mostly for show. Amazingly, although he is constantly in damage control mode since politicians continue to issue public statements after he has asked them repeatedly not to do so, Kofi Annan remains publically optimistic. The guy deserves an award for remaining absolutely calm, focused and on message in the face of such chaos, greed and immaturity. That's real leadership.
Condoleezza Rice came to town on Monday to add the Americans' call for power-sharing to the international pressure. Bush himself is on a mad dash around Africa, visiting five countries in six days. Kenya is not on the itinerary, though it is one of the major topics of discussion on the tour. Oddly enough, Kenya was also skipped on the last tour of Africa. The purpose of the tour appears to be mostly self-promotion, though he is also taking the time to give aid money. You can't do much more than that with six days. I believe he was only in Uganda for four hours. Here, Rice's presence was not met with much welcome. There were quite a few articles and letters in the papers to the effect of "don't tell us what to do" and "the US isn't in charge here", which is fair enough. People are tired of donors and 'well-wishers' and Western powers telling them how to run their country. There's also a great conspiracy theory going around that Air Force One is equipped with technology designed to disrupt the communication systems of any country that the President is visiting. Apparently it was designed as such so that any potential terrorists in the area would be unable to organize an attack. Obviously it must be true, since last time Bush was in Uganda, the mobile servers crashed!
Recently I've been working on my languages -- at work I'm translating articles related to the Covention on Biological Diversity (for which a Conference of Parties is coming up soon) into French for a Batwa organization in Burundi, as well as any other French-speaking indigenous groups that may be in attendance. The translation is a bit funny because the papers were originally written in English by a woman whose first language is Tagalog, I think; they are being translated by me, whose first language is English; and will be read by people whose first languages will be indigenous languages, with French as their second or third or fourth language. So we're all a bit out of our element, I suppose. It's been slow going, and I'd feel a bit more confident with someone to proof-read, but I'm happy to have the chance to improve my written French. Perhaps I'll meet someone to speak it with as well. I've also finally signed up for Kiswahili lessons through the Anglican Church of Kenya. They teach English, Kiswahili, various local languages and foreign languages to prepare local and foreign missionaries for work in all parts of the world. I should be starting at two hours, twice a week next week.
Meanwhile, I've been reading a great book by journalist Michaela Wrong called In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz. It's an account of the rise and fall of Mobutu Sese Seko, the former dictator of the country then known as Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of Congo. I haven't gotten very far yet, but so far it's been extremely interesting. Last time I was in Kenya, I read a book by the same author about the Eritrean revolution, called I Didn't Do It For You. It was absolutely fascinating, with tales of espionage, building railroads through impossible terrain, and learned revolutionaries performing piano concertos underground. That book kindled in me a desparate desire to visit Eritrea, though I understand that it's not exactly safe for travel at the moment. I would recommend either book to anyone interested in African history and politics, or just a damn good story. For that matter, another book about the history of the DRC, this one about horrors suffered by the people of Congo during the colonial era, is King Leopold's Ghost by Adam Hochschild. It's very disturbing, but well worth a look.
We're continuing to search for an apartment further West, though it's proving slightly more difficult than anticipated. It turns out that the people who post ads for apartments in the newspaper are con artists. They don't actually rent out apartments directly, but act as agents, taking you around to different residences. Which is great, until they start demanding fees for each apartment that they show you. It's hard to say whether you will find an apartment or run out of money first. For this reason, most people find apartments through friends, but unfortunately we don't have many connections in South B or C. My former landlady in South C did say that she would call me if she found anything suitable, but I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, we'll be staying in Buruburu, making the long commute, resisting seduction by the second-hand clothing market and eating the best mangos of our lives.
February 15, 2008
a test of patience
While attempting to fit in somewhat to Kenyan culture, one of the challenges for me has been learning to be flexible with my plans, both socially and at work. In Canada, I consider myself to be a fairly laid-back and flexible person. I like spontaneous adventures, I like wandering and seeing where the day takes me. If there are last-minute changes to plans, hey, no problem. I'm sure that I've also frustrated many a friend with my cavalier attitude towards punctuality. Now I really know how they feel.
Here it seems as though everything is last-minute and spontaneous. This goes both ways: planning anything in advance is completely fruitless, and when unexpected activities come up, you just have to go with it. If you had arranged to meet with someone for a meeting or at a bar, expect them to show up hours late or not at all. A few days later, however, they'll be calling you up demanding to know where you are and insisting that you come over right that instant, no matter what you're doing. Short excursions easily turn into day-long trips as people drag you around to see this or that place and to meet so and so.
At first it was a bit difficult not to take it personally when plans changed suddenly, especially when it had been something that I was looking forward to. But I've also had some great times as a result of letting go of my expectations and just going along with things. Getting angry with people won't help -- they're not really being rude. They're just operating with a different sense of time and scheduling. It's my cultural baggage to deal with, since it's not something that's about to change no matter how much I pace and curse. Of course, there are situations, particularly when it comes to work, when being patient and waiting for the other person to come around is not appropriate. Sometimes you have to push in order to get things done. But for the most part, it's time to let go of expectations. Live in the moment. And until I adapt, all I can do is smile, grit my teeth and say hakuna shida -- no problem. Really.
On the political front, negotiations continue at a game lodge in Tsavo National Park. Everyone involved is remaining tight-lipped, but that doesn't stop wild speculation from everyone else. From what I've been reading, the country has been peaceful for that past few days. The worst stories have been coming from the displaced peoples' camps, as the media has begun to explore the potential long-term effects, particularly on children. Many of the kids in these camps have not only witnessed neighbours, classmates and family members being attacked or killed, but have also experienced violence, sexual abuse and destruction firsthand. Most of them have still been unable to return to their home schools or enroll in new schools, and there is simply not enough support in camps to provide them with any kind of real teaching. The form four (grade 12) students who were supposed to take their final exams this year may miss the registration date, and even if they are able to take the exam, it will be difficult to do well if most of their books and study materials have been destroyed. Without their final exam certificate, they will be unable to graduate from high school, which will hurt their job prospects and chances of getting a post-secondary education. Free secondary school education was also supposed to be implemented after the elections, but that has been put on the back burner while the government sorts itself out. And who knows how long that will take. It's yet another test of patience.
Here it seems as though everything is last-minute and spontaneous. This goes both ways: planning anything in advance is completely fruitless, and when unexpected activities come up, you just have to go with it. If you had arranged to meet with someone for a meeting or at a bar, expect them to show up hours late or not at all. A few days later, however, they'll be calling you up demanding to know where you are and insisting that you come over right that instant, no matter what you're doing. Short excursions easily turn into day-long trips as people drag you around to see this or that place and to meet so and so.
At first it was a bit difficult not to take it personally when plans changed suddenly, especially when it had been something that I was looking forward to. But I've also had some great times as a result of letting go of my expectations and just going along with things. Getting angry with people won't help -- they're not really being rude. They're just operating with a different sense of time and scheduling. It's my cultural baggage to deal with, since it's not something that's about to change no matter how much I pace and curse. Of course, there are situations, particularly when it comes to work, when being patient and waiting for the other person to come around is not appropriate. Sometimes you have to push in order to get things done. But for the most part, it's time to let go of expectations. Live in the moment. And until I adapt, all I can do is smile, grit my teeth and say hakuna shida -- no problem. Really.
On the political front, negotiations continue at a game lodge in Tsavo National Park. Everyone involved is remaining tight-lipped, but that doesn't stop wild speculation from everyone else. From what I've been reading, the country has been peaceful for that past few days. The worst stories have been coming from the displaced peoples' camps, as the media has begun to explore the potential long-term effects, particularly on children. Many of the kids in these camps have not only witnessed neighbours, classmates and family members being attacked or killed, but have also experienced violence, sexual abuse and destruction firsthand. Most of them have still been unable to return to their home schools or enroll in new schools, and there is simply not enough support in camps to provide them with any kind of real teaching. The form four (grade 12) students who were supposed to take their final exams this year may miss the registration date, and even if they are able to take the exam, it will be difficult to do well if most of their books and study materials have been destroyed. Without their final exam certificate, they will be unable to graduate from high school, which will hurt their job prospects and chances of getting a post-secondary education. Free secondary school education was also supposed to be implemented after the elections, but that has been put on the back burner while the government sorts itself out. And who knows how long that will take. It's yet another test of patience.
February 14, 2008
The Roots office is small, but manages to house a couch and a number of plastic chairs as well as a computer. This past Sunday we all crammed into the office for the meeting -- there had been a soccer tournament earlier in the day and it was simply easier to meet in the office after the match. It was a bit tight for the thirty-odd people in attendance; some shared seats, some stood or leaned against the wall. The discussion topic was the second anniversary celebration, which is coming up in a few months. Roots is run on democratic principles, so most of the decisions are made by holding discussions and then voting. It was decided by vote that the party would be held in a park, rather than in a bar or hotel, not only to save money but so that the younger kids could also attend. Transporting all those kids will be a challenge, though -- it's difficult to travel with a bunch of children by matatu, so that's one of the kinks they'll have to work out. There was also discussion about new soccer uniforms, since the Roots team has been using the same shirts for years, and they're getting pretty rough around the edges. Does anyone reading this have any sports connections at all? Even old used shirts from teams that don't want them anymore would be very welcome. Do let me know if you know of a team willing to donate their old stuff for boys in their teens and twenties.
There's also a tiny library in the office, really just a few shelves in the corner to collect any books that members come across. A lot of them are booklets published by the UN, the ILO and other organizations, but there are some novels and coffee table books as well. While we were waiting for the meeting to start, I came across a book on law and the status of women in Kenya. There I found something that I kind of knew already, but it surprised me to see how it had been written into the Constitution. It turns out that there are four different systems of family law in Kenya: Christian/statutory, Hindu, Islamic and African customary. It's really interesting to see how the legal system has dealt with different cultural groups as well as the urban-rurual divide, but the way that marriage is set up in different systems is very problematic from a gender standpoint. Both African customary and Islamic systems are potentially polygamous and the bride may be of any age, including infants. Women married under these systems are not entitled to any property if their husbands die or divorce them. Customary law allows for many types of marriage which are not consensual, such as surrogate, woman inheritance, child and forced marriages. The husband also had the right to chastise (i.e. beat) his wife for adultery, practicing "witchcraft", or failing to carry out her wifely duties (cooking, cleaning, fetching wood and water, caring for the children, having sex on demand, etc.).
While I see the importance of allowing cultural groups to carry out their traditions, it's also important to note that in patriarchal cultures, men are the ones to determine which traditions should be valued and honoured. In many cases, women are politically, economically and socially marginalized and have very little say in life-altering events such as marriage. I'm not saying that marriage is some kind of sacred institution that should always be based on love alone; that's just not realistic in so many contexts. But consent is very important. It disturbs me to see that women's status can vary so much depending on which type of family law is followed. And yes, there are reasons for practicing polygamous marriage in pastoralist societies, for example, but those women are still people who deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. I don't know any woman, no matter how traditional, who wants to be beaten by her husband.
Speaking of romance, today is Valentine's day and the city has been overrun by cheap fabric flowers, stuffed animals and knock-off chocolates. Even this morning while I was buying my paper, two different people asked me what my plans were for the evening and why I didn't have a rose. That's Nairobi for you: everything so over the top. In fact, though I don't normally care for Valentine's day, we are going out tonight. George and I have never had the opportunity to have a nice romantic meal together, so it's long overdue. Not gonna lie, I'm really excited about having a meal that doesn't involve ugli, sukuma (kale), beef or cabbage. We might even have dessert!
There's also a tiny library in the office, really just a few shelves in the corner to collect any books that members come across. A lot of them are booklets published by the UN, the ILO and other organizations, but there are some novels and coffee table books as well. While we were waiting for the meeting to start, I came across a book on law and the status of women in Kenya. There I found something that I kind of knew already, but it surprised me to see how it had been written into the Constitution. It turns out that there are four different systems of family law in Kenya: Christian/statutory, Hindu, Islamic and African customary. It's really interesting to see how the legal system has dealt with different cultural groups as well as the urban-rurual divide, but the way that marriage is set up in different systems is very problematic from a gender standpoint. Both African customary and Islamic systems are potentially polygamous and the bride may be of any age, including infants. Women married under these systems are not entitled to any property if their husbands die or divorce them. Customary law allows for many types of marriage which are not consensual, such as surrogate, woman inheritance, child and forced marriages. The husband also had the right to chastise (i.e. beat) his wife for adultery, practicing "witchcraft", or failing to carry out her wifely duties (cooking, cleaning, fetching wood and water, caring for the children, having sex on demand, etc.).
While I see the importance of allowing cultural groups to carry out their traditions, it's also important to note that in patriarchal cultures, men are the ones to determine which traditions should be valued and honoured. In many cases, women are politically, economically and socially marginalized and have very little say in life-altering events such as marriage. I'm not saying that marriage is some kind of sacred institution that should always be based on love alone; that's just not realistic in so many contexts. But consent is very important. It disturbs me to see that women's status can vary so much depending on which type of family law is followed. And yes, there are reasons for practicing polygamous marriage in pastoralist societies, for example, but those women are still people who deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. I don't know any woman, no matter how traditional, who wants to be beaten by her husband.
Speaking of romance, today is Valentine's day and the city has been overrun by cheap fabric flowers, stuffed animals and knock-off chocolates. Even this morning while I was buying my paper, two different people asked me what my plans were for the evening and why I didn't have a rose. That's Nairobi for you: everything so over the top. In fact, though I don't normally care for Valentine's day, we are going out tonight. George and I have never had the opportunity to have a nice romantic meal together, so it's long overdue. Not gonna lie, I'm really excited about having a meal that doesn't involve ugli, sukuma (kale), beef or cabbage. We might even have dessert!
February 12, 2008
a little hope
Just a quick update before I return to work. The Kenyan press has been going nuts lately with the news of an impending political solution. The news late last week was that ODM would no longer demand Kibaki's resignation and would cede to a power-sharing agreement. Details were to come early this week, and now we've learned that the negotiation team is heading off to some undisclosed location outside of the city to sequester themselves and hammer out a deal over the next 2-3 days. The anticipation is unreal. People are so tired of being in limbo, and I can't blame them.
There have been some other positive developments lately. The bans on public demonstrations and live broadcasting were both lifted this past week. I believe that the government's ability to control the media to that extent is one of the issues that will be brought up during the proposed discussions on constitutional reform. I'm really looking forward to those talks. If one good thing comes out of this disaster, it will hopefully be a push to reform the role of the President and the amount of power the person in that position is able to wield. I just wish that thousands of people didn't have to be killed and displaced in order for that to happen.
There have been some other positive developments lately. The bans on public demonstrations and live broadcasting were both lifted this past week. I believe that the government's ability to control the media to that extent is one of the issues that will be brought up during the proposed discussions on constitutional reform. I'm really looking forward to those talks. If one good thing comes out of this disaster, it will hopefully be a push to reform the role of the President and the amount of power the person in that position is able to wield. I just wish that thousands of people didn't have to be killed and displaced in order for that to happen.
February 6, 2008
On Saturday, we visited the displaced peoples' camp. The one that we visited was right on the border of Mathare, in a police station. We arrived at the Roots office in the early afternoon and waited for a few hours as members slowly trickled in. They brought clothing and blankets that they had collected from their own homes and from friends and family. With the donations received by well-wishers, they also bought soap and food supplies like bags of maize meal for making ugali. Ugali is the ubiquitous starchy white stuff that reminds me of cream of wheat that has been left on the stove for too long. When you're eating ugali, there's no need for cutlery; you just break off a piece from the stiff block with your fingers, squish it around in your hand to make it more pliable, and use it to scoop up the meat, sukuma (a green leafy vegetable like kale), cabbage, stew, or whatever it is you're eating. It doesn't really taste like much, but the texture is surprisingly nice. Ugali is extremely popular because it's cheap, filling and high in calories, which is great if you don't have a lot of food (but not so great if you're living the life of plenty).
Originally the plan was to drive the supplies from the office to the camp. George's brother Elijah is studying to be a journalist, and with his connections he arranged for a truck to help us out. Two British gentlemen showed up with their army green SUV and were all smiles, but disappeared moments later when they were called off to cover a story somewhere around Thika road. The amazing thing was that no one complained about this at all. We were just going to have to carry it ourselves, so that's what we did.
Though technically I had been in Mathare last week for the Roots meeting, the school where the meetings are held is right on the main road, so this was the first time this year that I'd really been in the slum. It's always a bit of a shock at first -- the sheer amount of garbage everywhere is overwhelming. Though there are no official population statistics for the slums, George estimates that there could be a million people living in Mathare. Imagine a million people living with no access to city services. There is no garbage collection and minimal plumbing. Some people have toilets in their homes, but others are forced to use communal toilets that you must pay to access. Those who cannot afford to pay either go on the street or in the river, or take part in the 'flying toilet' phenomenon, wherein one relieves oneself in a plastic bag and tosses it away in the street. Very risky business. The homes range from shanties built of corregated iron, cardboard and plastic bags, to large cement apartment buildings. There are a few water collection points, so people line up with their laundry basins and jerry cans. Those who don't have time to wait or who are too far from the collection points get their water from the river that runs through the slum, a place where garbage is dumped and people and animals defecate. Plastic bags threaten to overwhelm alleyways, and goats and chickens run freely. Here and there, men are sleeping on the street. "You see how good life is in Mathare?" my friend joked, pointing at a man who was lying with his feet dangling in the ditch, "There are beds everywhere."
Although it sad in a way, Mathare is also an inspiring place to visit because of the sense of community. Families who hardly have anything at all will invite you into their homes and prepare you food without expecting anything in return. People have always been very friendly and welcoming to me, and take care of each other as best they can. On this occassion we didn't have time to visit. We walked straight through carrying our bags of supplies. I passed my camera along to the youth group members and they also had a small video camera that had recently been donated by a documentary filmmaker from the States to record their activities. The greatest challenge of the journey was crossing the river with the supplies. In that section of Mathare, there is only one footbridge and it is quite far East. Another bridge was supposed to be constructed further up the river, but the project was abandoned halfway through, leaving useless rusted poles jutting out of the murky water. It's not worth it to walk all the way down to the bridge if your destination is directly across, so what residents do is hop over using strategically placed stones and piles of garbage. I'm always petrified that I'll slip and tumble in, and imagine that my body would be completely overtaken by bacteria, but I've managed to cross over without incident so far. Apparently when it rains heavily and the river floods, kids from the area go swimming there. The idea makes my skin crawl -- it would be like swimming in sewer water, though at least it's somewhat diluted at that point.
The camp we visited was not one of those where diplaced people are staying in tents. This one was in a police station, which the officers had cleared out completely in order to make space for those with nowhere to go. When we arrived, it was around lunch time. Members of local community groups and some of those staying at the camp were organizing the meal. They first rounded up the children, called out all their names, had them wash their hands and gave them a plate of ugali with vegetable stew. Then the adults lined up for their share. This camp was probably better organized than others -- with community members taking an active role in the running of the camp, we were assured that the supplies would be well distributed. But despite the small measure of comfort brought by community aid and police presence, life in this camp must be rough. Forget about privacy -- everyone is jammed into the one hall, and there are so many people that I don't know how they all fit in at night. There were some mattresses stacked against the wall, but many must have to sleep on the concrete floor. There were only a few toilets, plus a couple of makeshift outhouses to share amongst the masses. It was such a chaotic place, and the people staying there would have little to do all day. The kids had not yet returned to school (if they had been fortunate enough to attend in the first place). They were ecstatic to receive visitors, and were clinging to my hands and arms, dragging me off to play with them moments after our arrival.
I don't know what will happen to all these people. Many of them have no homes to go back to, and no money to build or rent new homes. There are still reports of high levels of sexual assault, violence and rape in camps, as well as stories of girls being recruited for early marriages (as their parents, desperate for money, would then receive a dowry), or to be used as house girls. This has led to the posting of signs in some of the camps that read "This camp is not a source for cheap labour!!!" I know that addressing the issue of internally displaced persons is one of the agenda items for the mediation talks, so hopefully more funding and planning will come of that. Perhaps the most difficult part will be the question of where all these people will be resettled. Would you rather move back home after your neighbour burned down and looted your house, or move away from the place where you've always lived? How do you overcome that trauma?
The following day was the Roots meeting. This time, we split up into groups to discuss topics suggested by members. Each group wrote a set of questions related to the topic, and these questions were passed on for the next group to answer. At the end, a representative read out the group answers and we all discussed together. The topics were drug abuse, early pregnancy, tribalism and unemployment. Inevitably, education came up as an important factor in influencing the choices one makes and where one stands in regards to these issues. Many children in Mathare are unable to attend school because they cannot afford to pay for school uniforms, books and other supplies, or because they are needed to work to raise money for the family. As it is still early in the year, these discussion groups were a great way of brainstorming which issues to tackle in upcoming programs. What works so well about the group is that it's so organic -- all of the members are from Mathare, so they've all grown up knowing people who deal with these issues and knowing what needs to be improved in the community. They don't need anyone to explain to them how the problems of Mathare should be approached; they are the experts. With more funding and resources I know that they would be able to do so much for the community, and they've already accomplished quite a lot in the short time they've been operating. The fact that this group was formed at all shows the connection that its founding members feel to Mathare, and their desire to help the community even if they don't live there anymore. They didn't just want to get out of the ghetto, they also wanted to make it a better place for those who remained. Somehow, that gives me a lot of hope.
The political situation doesn't seem to have changed much. Recently, South African lawyer and businessman Cyril Ramaphosa, who was part of the negocations team at the end of the apartheid era, came to join the mediation team. Though there was great hope that he could help the proceedings, he was promptly tured away by PNU (Kibaki's party), accused of having business dealings with Raila Odinga. The mediation team has now entered the phase in which they discuss what steps to take to resolve the contested election results -- whether that be a recount, a re-election, the formation of an interim government of some kind or a power-sharing agreement for ODM and PNU. Annan seems to be rather optimistic, and I hope that his good faith is not misplaced. These next couple of weeks will be crucial for securing a peaceful future for Kenya. In the meantime, people in the Western towns are still being killed, though it's true that the violence has diminished somewhat. Somehow even though the newspapers report all these deaths, when they speak of the total number of Kenyans killed, they seem to be stuck at 800 or 850. I notice that press from elsewhere reports over 1,000 deaths fairly consistently.
Finally, in the office, Lucy has been around this week and I now have a clearer idea of what I will be doing for the next little while. A Conference on Biological Diversity is coming up in the next couple of months, so we'll be preparing for that, and I'll also be doing some editing, writing and translating work. After the conference, I'll concentrate more on gender issues, do more fundraising work and hopefully travel to Tanzania, South Africa and possibly Burundi. Uganda had also been on the agenda, but because we would normally drive through Western Kenya to reach that neighbouring country, our activities there will likely be pushed back to the end of this year or to next year, which is really too bad. I'm already feeling eager for this travel, but that will be months away and I must be patient and remind myself that there is still important work to be done here. I also have a title now. I feel like a bit of a fraud saying it since I don't feel as if I've done much of anything yet (aside from working on website content, coming soon), but I'm officially IIN's program officer on women's issues. For now, that's a title to work up to.
I've managed to put some photos up on flickr and there are more to come, so go take a look. Hardly any of them were taken by me, they're mostly by Lucky or by Mathare Roots members. It's slow going trying to load them, so do bear with me as I try to get more up.
Originally the plan was to drive the supplies from the office to the camp. George's brother Elijah is studying to be a journalist, and with his connections he arranged for a truck to help us out. Two British gentlemen showed up with their army green SUV and were all smiles, but disappeared moments later when they were called off to cover a story somewhere around Thika road. The amazing thing was that no one complained about this at all. We were just going to have to carry it ourselves, so that's what we did.
Though technically I had been in Mathare last week for the Roots meeting, the school where the meetings are held is right on the main road, so this was the first time this year that I'd really been in the slum. It's always a bit of a shock at first -- the sheer amount of garbage everywhere is overwhelming. Though there are no official population statistics for the slums, George estimates that there could be a million people living in Mathare. Imagine a million people living with no access to city services. There is no garbage collection and minimal plumbing. Some people have toilets in their homes, but others are forced to use communal toilets that you must pay to access. Those who cannot afford to pay either go on the street or in the river, or take part in the 'flying toilet' phenomenon, wherein one relieves oneself in a plastic bag and tosses it away in the street. Very risky business. The homes range from shanties built of corregated iron, cardboard and plastic bags, to large cement apartment buildings. There are a few water collection points, so people line up with their laundry basins and jerry cans. Those who don't have time to wait or who are too far from the collection points get their water from the river that runs through the slum, a place where garbage is dumped and people and animals defecate. Plastic bags threaten to overwhelm alleyways, and goats and chickens run freely. Here and there, men are sleeping on the street. "You see how good life is in Mathare?" my friend joked, pointing at a man who was lying with his feet dangling in the ditch, "There are beds everywhere."
Although it sad in a way, Mathare is also an inspiring place to visit because of the sense of community. Families who hardly have anything at all will invite you into their homes and prepare you food without expecting anything in return. People have always been very friendly and welcoming to me, and take care of each other as best they can. On this occassion we didn't have time to visit. We walked straight through carrying our bags of supplies. I passed my camera along to the youth group members and they also had a small video camera that had recently been donated by a documentary filmmaker from the States to record their activities. The greatest challenge of the journey was crossing the river with the supplies. In that section of Mathare, there is only one footbridge and it is quite far East. Another bridge was supposed to be constructed further up the river, but the project was abandoned halfway through, leaving useless rusted poles jutting out of the murky water. It's not worth it to walk all the way down to the bridge if your destination is directly across, so what residents do is hop over using strategically placed stones and piles of garbage. I'm always petrified that I'll slip and tumble in, and imagine that my body would be completely overtaken by bacteria, but I've managed to cross over without incident so far. Apparently when it rains heavily and the river floods, kids from the area go swimming there. The idea makes my skin crawl -- it would be like swimming in sewer water, though at least it's somewhat diluted at that point.
The camp we visited was not one of those where diplaced people are staying in tents. This one was in a police station, which the officers had cleared out completely in order to make space for those with nowhere to go. When we arrived, it was around lunch time. Members of local community groups and some of those staying at the camp were organizing the meal. They first rounded up the children, called out all their names, had them wash their hands and gave them a plate of ugali with vegetable stew. Then the adults lined up for their share. This camp was probably better organized than others -- with community members taking an active role in the running of the camp, we were assured that the supplies would be well distributed. But despite the small measure of comfort brought by community aid and police presence, life in this camp must be rough. Forget about privacy -- everyone is jammed into the one hall, and there are so many people that I don't know how they all fit in at night. There were some mattresses stacked against the wall, but many must have to sleep on the concrete floor. There were only a few toilets, plus a couple of makeshift outhouses to share amongst the masses. It was such a chaotic place, and the people staying there would have little to do all day. The kids had not yet returned to school (if they had been fortunate enough to attend in the first place). They were ecstatic to receive visitors, and were clinging to my hands and arms, dragging me off to play with them moments after our arrival.
I don't know what will happen to all these people. Many of them have no homes to go back to, and no money to build or rent new homes. There are still reports of high levels of sexual assault, violence and rape in camps, as well as stories of girls being recruited for early marriages (as their parents, desperate for money, would then receive a dowry), or to be used as house girls. This has led to the posting of signs in some of the camps that read "This camp is not a source for cheap labour!!!" I know that addressing the issue of internally displaced persons is one of the agenda items for the mediation talks, so hopefully more funding and planning will come of that. Perhaps the most difficult part will be the question of where all these people will be resettled. Would you rather move back home after your neighbour burned down and looted your house, or move away from the place where you've always lived? How do you overcome that trauma?
The following day was the Roots meeting. This time, we split up into groups to discuss topics suggested by members. Each group wrote a set of questions related to the topic, and these questions were passed on for the next group to answer. At the end, a representative read out the group answers and we all discussed together. The topics were drug abuse, early pregnancy, tribalism and unemployment. Inevitably, education came up as an important factor in influencing the choices one makes and where one stands in regards to these issues. Many children in Mathare are unable to attend school because they cannot afford to pay for school uniforms, books and other supplies, or because they are needed to work to raise money for the family. As it is still early in the year, these discussion groups were a great way of brainstorming which issues to tackle in upcoming programs. What works so well about the group is that it's so organic -- all of the members are from Mathare, so they've all grown up knowing people who deal with these issues and knowing what needs to be improved in the community. They don't need anyone to explain to them how the problems of Mathare should be approached; they are the experts. With more funding and resources I know that they would be able to do so much for the community, and they've already accomplished quite a lot in the short time they've been operating. The fact that this group was formed at all shows the connection that its founding members feel to Mathare, and their desire to help the community even if they don't live there anymore. They didn't just want to get out of the ghetto, they also wanted to make it a better place for those who remained. Somehow, that gives me a lot of hope.
The political situation doesn't seem to have changed much. Recently, South African lawyer and businessman Cyril Ramaphosa, who was part of the negocations team at the end of the apartheid era, came to join the mediation team. Though there was great hope that he could help the proceedings, he was promptly tured away by PNU (Kibaki's party), accused of having business dealings with Raila Odinga. The mediation team has now entered the phase in which they discuss what steps to take to resolve the contested election results -- whether that be a recount, a re-election, the formation of an interim government of some kind or a power-sharing agreement for ODM and PNU. Annan seems to be rather optimistic, and I hope that his good faith is not misplaced. These next couple of weeks will be crucial for securing a peaceful future for Kenya. In the meantime, people in the Western towns are still being killed, though it's true that the violence has diminished somewhat. Somehow even though the newspapers report all these deaths, when they speak of the total number of Kenyans killed, they seem to be stuck at 800 or 850. I notice that press from elsewhere reports over 1,000 deaths fairly consistently.
Finally, in the office, Lucy has been around this week and I now have a clearer idea of what I will be doing for the next little while. A Conference on Biological Diversity is coming up in the next couple of months, so we'll be preparing for that, and I'll also be doing some editing, writing and translating work. After the conference, I'll concentrate more on gender issues, do more fundraising work and hopefully travel to Tanzania, South Africa and possibly Burundi. Uganda had also been on the agenda, but because we would normally drive through Western Kenya to reach that neighbouring country, our activities there will likely be pushed back to the end of this year or to next year, which is really too bad. I'm already feeling eager for this travel, but that will be months away and I must be patient and remind myself that there is still important work to be done here. I also have a title now. I feel like a bit of a fraud saying it since I don't feel as if I've done much of anything yet (aside from working on website content, coming soon), but I'm officially IIN's program officer on women's issues. For now, that's a title to work up to.
I've managed to put some photos up on flickr and there are more to come, so go take a look. Hardly any of them were taken by me, they're mostly by Lucky or by Mathare Roots members. It's slow going trying to load them, so do bear with me as I try to get more up.
February 1, 2008
Another ODM MP, David Kimutai Too, was killed yesterday in Eldoret. Some claim that he was killed in a "crime of passion" as the result of a "love triangle gone wrong". Others, including Odinga, insist that this was a political assassination with the goal of tipping the power balance in parliament. Whatever the motivation, the result was fresh violence in Eldoret. Meanwhile, unrest continued in Kisumu, Nakuru, Naivasha, and other Western towns. In Nairobi, the mediation team has agreed on establishing peace in seven days. Wonderful words, but how exactly do they plan on accomplishing peace in a week? So far most of the discussions seem to have concentrated on how the mediation will be conducted, with few concrete plans of action. Kibaki isn't even in the country right now; he's in Addis Ababa for an African Union Heads of State meeting. The fact that the AU allowed Kibaki to represent Kenya is somewhat troubling. Are they simply letting him in as an interim representative, or accepting him as the President of Kenya? If the latter is the case, they've succeeded in undercutting the mediation process entirely, which I find very odd.
Ban Ki-moon is expected to arrive in Nairobi shortly to join in the negotiations. I'm not sure how well-received his presence will be; most of the people I've spoken to seem to like the fact that Annan is leading the mediation team, keeping "African problems within Africa". But anything that helps speed negociations is probably a positive development. I do wonder, even if some political agreement is reached, how can the root causes of the violence be addressed so that this kind of crisis does not occur in Kenya again? While a free and fair democracy is crucial, this isn't just about vote rigging, nor just about "tribalism". And as this is a complex problem, it will likely take years to address, and years for the country to recover from the trauma of civil unrest. Democracy is not enough, and even peace is not enough. Kenya needs change from within.
When I was in Canada watching the political situation in Kenya fall apart, in denial about the extent and severity of the violence, I thought that if I just managed to return to Kenya, that somehow the situation wouldn't seem so dire. Now that I'm here, I feel as frustrated and as helpless as ever, perhaps even more so now that I am able to see some of the destruction firsthand. Though I'm no longer as worried about my loved ones here, I know that those who care about me back home are feeling the same anxiety that I did before I came. It's not a good feeling to know that I'm causing stress to others. And like so many of those who live here and love this country, all I can do now is shake my head, watch out for myself and my friends and wonder when this will end.
While I'm not feeling particularly optimistic about Kenya's future today, at least in the short term, Nairobi's resilience gives me a tiny bit of hope for the possibility of rebuilding elsewhere. It was only a few weeks ago that the city centre was the site of demonstrations, police brutality and shootings. Photos from that time were eerily post-apocalyptic, showing deserted shops and streets completely empty save for a few police officers. Now it's more or less back to business as usual. On the other hand, Nairobi is a cosmopolitain city with a large middle class, which allows its residents to bounce back more easily, and some areas such as Kibera are still sites of violence and instability. Small towns that have been the sites of large-scale looting and burning may not find recovery so easy.
Ban Ki-moon is expected to arrive in Nairobi shortly to join in the negotiations. I'm not sure how well-received his presence will be; most of the people I've spoken to seem to like the fact that Annan is leading the mediation team, keeping "African problems within Africa". But anything that helps speed negociations is probably a positive development. I do wonder, even if some political agreement is reached, how can the root causes of the violence be addressed so that this kind of crisis does not occur in Kenya again? While a free and fair democracy is crucial, this isn't just about vote rigging, nor just about "tribalism". And as this is a complex problem, it will likely take years to address, and years for the country to recover from the trauma of civil unrest. Democracy is not enough, and even peace is not enough. Kenya needs change from within.
When I was in Canada watching the political situation in Kenya fall apart, in denial about the extent and severity of the violence, I thought that if I just managed to return to Kenya, that somehow the situation wouldn't seem so dire. Now that I'm here, I feel as frustrated and as helpless as ever, perhaps even more so now that I am able to see some of the destruction firsthand. Though I'm no longer as worried about my loved ones here, I know that those who care about me back home are feeling the same anxiety that I did before I came. It's not a good feeling to know that I'm causing stress to others. And like so many of those who live here and love this country, all I can do now is shake my head, watch out for myself and my friends and wonder when this will end.
While I'm not feeling particularly optimistic about Kenya's future today, at least in the short term, Nairobi's resilience gives me a tiny bit of hope for the possibility of rebuilding elsewhere. It was only a few weeks ago that the city centre was the site of demonstrations, police brutality and shootings. Photos from that time were eerily post-apocalyptic, showing deserted shops and streets completely empty save for a few police officers. Now it's more or less back to business as usual. On the other hand, Nairobi is a cosmopolitain city with a large middle class, which allows its residents to bounce back more easily, and some areas such as Kibera are still sites of violence and instability. Small towns that have been the sites of large-scale looting and burning may not find recovery so easy.
I <3 matatus
On a lighter note, I just have to tell you how completely ridiculous the matatus have gotten since I was last in Nairobi. The music and lights on these mini-buses used for public trasportation were always a bit much, but now some matatu owners have taken it a step further by installing video as well. This can take the form of a large screen at the front of the matatu, or of a large screen plus small screens on the seat backs, like on an airplane. Now you don't have to settle for just listening to your hip hop like a sucker; you can watch the macho posturing and booty shaking in living colour. Don't get me wrong, I love hip hop when it's done well, but the kind you find in a matatu has more to do with making money and exploiting women than art or activism. Nevertheless, the video matatus are insanely popular among young people. Even if the video matatu is completely full and the next one is nearly empty, people will pile into the first one and stand in the aisle or squash themselves into an already full row just to be there.
It's time that I admitted my absolute obsession with matatus as a means of transmitting popular urban culture. I should just write a paper on it instead of constantly spamming you all with my love of absurd public transportation. My favourite matatu from Buruburu to town right now inexplicably has Osama bin Laden and Bill Gates on the side, leaning into each other as if they're about to share some great secret.
It's time that I admitted my absolute obsession with matatus as a means of transmitting popular urban culture. I should just write a paper on it instead of constantly spamming you all with my love of absurd public transportation. My favourite matatu from Buruburu to town right now inexplicably has Osama bin Laden and Bill Gates on the side, leaning into each other as if they're about to share some great secret.
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