Pied Crows, Politics and People on the Fringe

Thursday, 9th April 2009

I think they are called Pied Crows. There are two of them. And they have started a mission to steal the dog’s meat and biscuits every morning. They are the size of those dumb Ibis that fly low over rooftops (barely making it!) in Johannesburg. But that’s where the similarity ends. These two crows are seriously clever and quick. And defiant. They squawk a lot in the morning and at night. And like many of the birds hereabouts, they are seriously carnivorous, much to the dog’s dislike.

‘The dog’ – a Shepherd-cross, spotted on the street by Brenda - goes by the name of Moshoeshoe (he of the Mountain Kingdom) – and barks like crazy as they steal her food. The crows just couldn’t give a damn and squawk at Mosh in the same tone as she delivers. She runs outside after them. They just hop away, back turned, and squawk from a distance!

Heckle and Jeckle got a fantastic feast the other night when I tossed the remnants of a black mamba onto the roof, after finding it asleep at night on the hitherto warm rock that forms part of the wall at my bedroom door. The mamba was still a baby (where’s mom, I wonder?!) and was almost stuck to the rock a sheer twelve inches off the floor. How did it get there, I thought sweetly, but then felt almost instinctively compelled to chop in two with the garden shears!

Black mambas are reputed (among others) to be quite capable of biting during the throes of death. I watched, with nervous flutters as a disembodied head bit frantically for about ten minutes after I had chopped this beauty of nature in half (in three, eventually)!

Mosh had been lying directly below the little curled specimen and I worried that she had been bitten – particularly when she showed definite signs of poisoning the next day. Her reaction would have been a bit late, considering, but it turns out I had OD’s her a bit on Frontline flea fluid! She was simply bilious for two days. She recovered admirably on day three, taking my shoes, and dragging all my scattered clothes into the garden, and looking on proudly.

The two Black Kites I mentioned before (Kevin and Bevin?) are still flying low over the roof these days and they are both amazing to watch when they settle into the huge, sparse acacia tree on the next-door property (viewed from the front veranda). We’re talking settling down with a 2 meter wingspan here… There’s a smaller kite that resides near the office that I sometimes watch from the office balcony. This one is continually doing small dives – probably for rats and mice – between the pines in the property next door. From the balcony we watch each other eye-to-eye!

Carnivores everywhere.

Good Friday, April 10, 2009

Later today, in the gardens of Nairobi’s favourite restaurant – The Carnivore – Jamaican reggae artist Morgan Heritage will be performing. I might go see the show. The throng of Nairobi’s huge reggae-fan-base will be there – and given the typical exuberant nature of Kenyans during any holiday - we can expect “fire” at the gig (as the Jamaicans would put it). I’ll unfortunately probably be one of very few mzungu faces at the gardens. Reggae isn’t exactly a ‘mixed’ thing in the present culture of Nairobi. The R170 entrance price might herald a few mzungus though.

Hopefully Morgan can spread a bit of peace and love because this society might just be on the brink of trouble (again) right now…

There has been a spate of resignations from government with recriminations and counter-recriminations that are threatening to split the already-fragile coalition government down the middle. Today’s papers are using Easter symbology (some corny, like the ‘Cross’ roads) to implore the members of all parties to chill out and be careful of what they might foster through their discord.

But, if truth be told, in Nairobi I don’t feel any of the tensions that supposedly exist in this country … There’s just a lot of lurve, and people getting on with things as they normally do. To what extent the politicians’ statements and actions are just political maneuvering and vying for a better place in the order of things to follow, I don’t know. A bit premature maybe.

But change is a coming methinks. Slowly AND surely.

I suppose I will have to go to Kisumu (soon) and see the burnt-out shells of buildings to get some sense of what happened here just over a year ago. There’s a book that’s been published, called Kenya Burning, that has some brilliant press photographs of last year’s post-election violence … some of the contents are pretty hectic, but there’s little we didn’t see in South Africa over the years – across all sides of the multifaceted political divides there. But one thing we did not see was the use of arrows in the struggle. There’s one picture in the book of a man sitting, waiting for medical attention, with an arrow-head immersed deep into his cheekbone. Alongside his photo is a lateral x-ray of his head, showing three inches of what-looks-like bone stuck in his cheek! He survived.

Political resignations have been going on while local students have been demonstrating quite frequently over the past week or two – often over the smallest pretext - clearly displaying their utter frustration at the State at play. A few have been shot (one or two lethally, but it’s not allowed to be real news here). And, again, there are definite rumblings afoot among the youth but, so far, no student ‘leader’ to speak of … Stephen Bantu Biko, uko wapi baba?

I DO get the slightest sense of a government starting – just starting – to lose its iron grip on the public. The people are pissed Mr. President. The cracks are starting to appear…

The GNU (Government of 'National Unity’) is starting to fall apart and all Kofi Annan has so far managed to do is look on, smiling affably, saying everything is doing fine (Kenyans don’t like criticism from outside but it’s expected to come from within. Mostly, much ado about nothing, but this is the stated reason for Kofi’s tepid tone).

There are clear dividing lines being formed for what I fear may become an extended – and very factional - battle for the future leadership of this country. Anti-Kikuyu, and anti-Kibaki, sentiment runs high. But there is factional leadership everywhere. And even many Kikuyus concede that last year’s election was ‘stolen’ from Raila Odinga’s Luo-led ‘Orange Democratic Movement’. Hence, it looks to me like Raila is making moves to re-assert his legitimate place in the government (the position of President, no less).

(I am not going to repeat earlier stuff I said about the ‘stealing’ of the election, the violence that followed, and the lack of political will, and ability, to deal with the aftermath. It’s there in previous blogs and is largely accurate.)

These are all parts of a web that looks like it’s being slowly unspun. The extent to which the ‘Hidden Hand’ I see at work here will be able to control the affairs of the immediate future will indicate the extent to which we might see the current government continue to rule with impunity, with its book of Stock Phrases and Empty Promises. Watch this space for details. I want to write more about the ‘Hidden Hand’ but need some observation and reflection on this subject still.

Enough Politics! Commercial Break:

There are something like 62 radio stations that ply the radio-waves in Nairobi! The Communications Commission of Kenya has trouble allocating frequencies because there are so few frequencies left. All the way from 88 to 106 or so, there’s a station every .3 to .5 Mhz (or whatever it is they measure FM in). Scattered among the East African stations (lots of talk in Swahili, Luo, Kamba, etc. with old-school East African music played) are rock stations, a reggae station, ‘classic’ and 'light' rock stations, R&B stations and various top-twenty ‘black/urban’ music stations. So far I haven’t heard a rap or hip-hop station, those genres being still a little 'rad' for Kenya.

But one thing is for sure; whoever does the (anonymous) late night mix on Capitol is someone to listen for in future. He/she must be sourcing the latest remixes off the Net because it’s one helluva show. If you’re reading this in Nairobi, listen to Capitol after 10pm! You won’t regret it if you like your music a bit on the wild side.

Listening to Nairobi radio stations, unless you have a digital tuner it becomes very difficult to find the station you were listening to yesterday. I skip through stations a lot and there’s some very good radio to be heard. But to find it again is another issue ... I’m surprised at the lack of advertising and I wonder how many of the stations survive. Capitol Radio has quite a bit of advertising (Safaricom, Zain and Coke) while Kiss FM is similarly popular with the agencies. But few of the other stations carry much by way of commercial interference. Even Metro – the very popular local reggae station - carries almost nothing in advertising. I thought it was called ‘commercial radio’ for a reason.

While we are talking advertising, I have to remark on the size of one consumer brand in Kenya. Not being much of a user of their product range, I didn’t realize it at first, but Nivea is absolutely massive in this country. The tendency for black skin to dry out if not regularly moisturized with mafuta (oil of some kind) is what makes this brand so big. Nivea has stand-alone kiosks within many of the supermarkets and Nivea products often enjoy the luxury of two or three facings on the supermarket shelves on their own.

I have previously mentioned the popularity of various ‘sodas’ in Kenya – not least Alvaro and Novida – but I am still surprised to see how many people choose to drink a warm soda from the shelf over a cold one from the check-out fridge! A warm Coke simply doesn’t have much appeal to me! But the one ‘beverage’ that takes them all on is pure bottled water. There are about 30 different brands you can get in Nairobi, hailing from all over the country, and they are mostly very good. My favourite is the extra-oxygenated Aquamist brand. The oxygen bubbles are quite groovy. One of the biggest sellers is the brand of water marketed by the Coca-Cola Company. It is not ‘spring’ water but is labeled ‘purified and balanced’. It is a few Shillings cheaper than other brands and sells very well.

Previously, I have noted the size and penetration of Hindu culture, and people, in Kenya. I was surprised recently to see the results of a staff survey carried out among over three thousand employees of a large Kenyan parastatal. They were asked who the worst employers in Kenya were. First they responded “government” generally, then the “police”, then “Asians”!

A recent friend of mine, a journalist formerly with Deutsche Welle, and an impish Kamba by the name of Peter, says that Kenyan motor dealers always try sell small Suzuki mini-vans to Asians because there is no front-end protection for them … Cruel, yes, but looking around me, I’m beginning to see what his acerbic wit was aiming at.

You seldom see an Asian Kenyan over thirty sitting with anyone other than another Asian. Unusually, I did see a VERY mixed group of young turks the other night at the Nakumatt Ukay, their shiny faces perhaps indicating they had been out ‘chewing’ together. (Maybe it was just moisturizer I was seeing, because their heavy perfume discounted the likelihood that they were serious khat converts.)

But seeing these guys, I wonder if maybe the next generation of Asian Kenyans will be a little different. Their fathers, probably my age and more, follow a 'typical' pattern and walk around (often Sikhs wearing turbans) with a very aloof and possibly superior sense about them. And many of them are obviously very rich. There is an obviously lack of integration - over successive generations spent here - that probably stems from the strength of Hindu culture. This is not a bad thing in itself but there seems to be a certain disdain for black Kenyans that does them no good here.

They live ‘apart’ and are seen ‘apart’. Their condescension toward the local population is subject to ridicule. In their use of Swahili we can see the image of baas-skap.

Asian Kenyans seem to prefer driving Mercedes, as opposed to the UN and NGO preference for big-ass four-wheel-drive vehicles. In Nairobi, I guess the Hindi cruising ground is the inner-city, and the Westlands/Parklands area. They are probably a lot more likely to fly to Kisumu than drive there … I believe the Kisumu Yacht Club is comprised almost exclusively of Asian Kenyans (not many of whom sail, I hear). And I believe many Hindu-owned shops were the target of aggression and looting last year – especially in the West, in Eldoret and Kisumu, and generally across the Luo land near the Lake.

They came here to build a railway. They stayed and built empires …

Yesterday, while editing the minutes of a management meeting, and sipping a wildly expensive cappuccino at the Art Café, I heard a young Asian lass speaking on her mobile to a friend, telling the friend that Cherie (or some such), was going to Paris for the Easter weekend! I’ll say!

But I guess mzungu culture in Nairobi is also quite weird. I went and jammed with a local rock group at their rehearsal the other night. A weird bunch of pretty straight old dudes (like me) playing some quite heavy acid-inspired rock. They play occasionally at a local restaurant (owned by one of four guitarists in the band!) and still have quite a small repertoire of songs – but chosen with taste. Comprised of American, Dutch and Belgian musicians (with a Congolese bass player), their musicianship is quite good.

The American blues-harp player is very good, even though he works in some very senior contract-position with the UN (you should just see the rented house…!). I think that during the jam I gave their resident drummer a bit of a fright (and I didn’t like it at all) but he was somehow a lot less friendly when I finished playing than before I started. But anyway, we jammed some great songs by the likes of Pink Floyd (Breathe), Led Zeppelin, and James Brown (I Feel Good and Sex Machine) and one or two numbers by Spruce Springclean. I’d enjoy playing with them again if there was ever another chance. They are well-equipped and the Belgian guitarist, playing a vintage Fender Telecaster, absolutely ROCKS.

While I was waiting for my turn at the traps I sat on the lounge settee and paged through a coffee-table book on “Kenya: 1927 to 1940”. The book features the most startling array of old photos from Kenya. I am told they were personally collected from the remaining mzungu families, plus archive material, and were painstakingly dated and compiled. The book is beautifully printed (locally) and the pictures have a warm sepia glow that seems to radiate from the page.

What a place this was. It still is, but some fifty plus years ago, Kenya was something else entirely!

There are photos of Kikuyu warriors that, I would venture, would have struck fear into the heart of most Pondo or Zulu warriors of the time. These guys were seriously scary and are often pictured with long headdresses, or dreadlocks, that look like they are heavily coated in ochre (these parts of the pictures seem to glow a little more). With long spears, and standing in formation (even when some Colonist is standing on his farm, trying to act real casual), they are a sight to behold! A picture of majestic clear-and-present danger that left me in awe.

Colonial Kenya: The mzungu bwana kneeling alongside the three lions he just killed. Arrays of two to three hundred tusks lined up outside the Asian General Dealer. The girls on the grass, playing croquet in their pre-war pinafores … that kind of thing … And the WILDEST shots of Africa you’ll ever get to see. But the Kikuyu warriors – in quite a few shots - have left an indelible impression. There’s a shot of a standoff between Maasai and Kikuyu (I think) that depicts 800 to 1000 men on each side, separated by dust ... and posturing. And it wasn’t long ago! I’ll see if I can get a scan of one or two of these pics for later insertion.

And during the week I heard an interview with the head of the new Kenya National Youth Alliance (read KeNYA, aka the ‘new’ Mungiki). It was frightening to listen to and I even got to work late after hearing denial after denial - and the occasional veiled threat - in his utterances to two female Capitol interviewers (who tried valiantly, I must say). There’s something like a Kikuyu Warrior/ Mau-Mau/ Mungiki thing going on here right now. And I’m not sure what it is exactly…

Yet the more I drive around Nairobi, the more aware I am of the fantastic heritage of beautiful houses the Brits left when they split the scene during what is commonly known as the time of Uhuru – the Mau-Mau time – in the late 50’s/early 60’s. Some of the really old houses in Nairobi are often nothing short of spectacular, with the best among them exclusively sporting majestic stone work. A tour of Colonial houses would probably do well among overnight visitors to Nairobi (on their way to a low-flight balloon trip across the Maasai Mara). Many of these houses were the original farm houses - and others have meantime been built between them in their necessary subdivision. Even the latter architecture – 60’s and 70’s - is often quite elegant but more prone to Mediterranean styles than Colonial. Evidence of very serious money is never far away in the suburbs of Nairobi.

There is a charity drive being planned in the marketing industry here to climb Mount Kenya (at roughly 14 000 ft, 2000 ft less than Kili) over an upcoming weekend. I am tempted - perhaps as the start of turning over a new leaf in the health department - to enroll myself and raise funds for Kenyans in need. The e-mail came complete with training instructions and lists of gear one needs to buy - or preferably hire at base camp!

(This means another visa stamp for Tanzania due to the fact that Queen Elizabeth ‘gave’ Mt.Kili – from Kenya to Tanzania – because a nephew or someone had interests in Tanzania!)

I’m tempted to train, and climb, not least of all because of another picture I saw in that book. It was absolutely amazing … the mzungus skating on the icy surface of a frozen lake, somewhere near the summit of Mt.Kenya.

I wonder of there’s still enough water, and little enough temperature, for there to be such an experience today? I was an avid skater in my misspent youth - and still want to go down Mombasa Road, to the Panari Hotel, and skate at the Sky Rink on its roof. So, to somehow skate – or even feign skating – at the top of a mountain in deepest, darkest Africa, would be fun.

But as long as I’m in Kenya, I wouldn’t want to take any chances by skating on thin ice.

As always, with laughter, peace and love.

B-)