On 27 August 2010, Kenya’s President Mwai Kibaki enacted a new Kenya constitution that brought the country in line with some of the more liberal democracies in the world. I was in Kenya for its enactment and for two months beyond.
I was elated for Kenya for it heralded the complete overhaul of a fundamentally flawed statute book and promised – and still promises - fresh hope after nearly 50 years of decrepit rule.
Since the enactment, things have both started and stalled on the political front. But for the first time, corrupt dealings are being vigorously pursued by the anti-corruption commission. Kenyans are quietly hoping for some level of redress after being robbed of billions.
And, as I write this on Thursday, 23 December 2010, Kenyans are mounting a peaceful ribbon protest in objection to the recent self-serving behaviour of parliamentarians. It's the first of its kind.
Of course, nothing has changed on the material front for most Kenyans. It's early yet. A very small percent of Kenyans own almost everything in the country and redistribution is going to take some time to achieve unless deliberate restitution is enacted. And restitution should be enacted. So much has been stolen from Kenyans by so few.
***
When I first arrived in Nairobi, I was incensed by what I saw in the papers and on TV. I saw the country being bled to death by its own leadership.
This deals with the canvas upon which life in Kenya is painted; the stuff of the struggle for daily existence that marks life in Kenya – and in Nairobi particularly – and the stuff of exactly what needs to change here: It concerns the huge disparity that exists between the Kenya ‘that is’ versus the Kenya that ‘could be’.
Through the unfettered and insatiable greed of the ‘political class’, the people of Kenya have been robbed of their birthrights; they lack access to healthy environments – to land, to clean water and even to food - but they particularly lack access to opportunities for employment that would make Kenya somewhat different from what we see today.
If the billions and billions of Shillings that have been stolen from the Kenyan people had gone where they should have, Kenya would be an African success story of note. But the treasure trove has been raped and pillaged; blithely stolen from the people over three ‘eras’ of Kenyan governance. The people of this land have been systematically impoverished to the bone by their own leadership!
The fact of the above having happened tints – and taints – every aspect of life in Kenya; from the lack of maize meal to feed the nation, to the lack of running water, the lack of employment, to the prostitution that is a big feature of Kenya’s urban landscape.
There’s a sullen and hopeless mood that engulfs most discussions of Kenyan politics. Every single common mwananchi (citizen) I speak to says the same thing: that this government has to GO and GO SOON!
But, while Kenyans might not want their current government, a proud and patriotic people they certainly remain. Kenyans adore Kenya. Flags, stickers, bracelets and T-shirts bearing Kenya's colours or flag are seen everywhere. These are people rooting for their nation, but definitely not their leadership. As Brenda put it beautifully:
“I am very proud to be Kenyan but I’m not proud of Kenya”
The Kenyan people have really had enough but essentially have no avenues of legitimate dissent with which to secure the future they want. They are prevented from peaceful demonstration, intimidated in a not wholly conscious way by the ever-present policemen on ‘the beat’ wielding AK47’s in a casual but menacing way.
But the good news is that since I arrived in this beautiful country, there has developed a significant body of people calling for change. From everywhere they are coming. And coming fast. There’s a lot of change-talk on the go and it bodes well for the future of this nation.
Change … she is coming to Kenya and despite increasingly weak attempts by Government at curtailing the tide, the tide is clearly rising on the dry, dark and dusty horizon that is the Kenya of old. There’s a new uhuru (freedom) in the air. And I relish the thought of what might soon be happening here.
***
The amount that has been stolen via corruption in Kenya since 1963 is enormous. Corruption by people in government and parastatal corporations has cost ordinary Kenyans a few hundred billion Shillings in lost funds; funds that should have gone to the Kenyan people one way or another. The results of this wholesale theft are seen everywhere from the lack of infrastructure development, through food shortages to prostitution.
The current Shilling value of all the known scandals in Kenya’s near 50 years of independence would be staggering. No one has dared calculate it yet.
All the time I was in Kenya, almost every day's news would feature a report of some newly-unearthed corruption scandal. No sooner was the news out when that scandal would disappear from view as a new one took its place. And so on. I even jokingly hypothesised that this was a deliberate strategy of government: get rid of today's scandal by making an even bigger one tomorrow. Then no-one can keep track. And the press certainly wasn't following any of it up.
Only as I was leaving the country were some attempts being made to break 'the culture of impunity' that has dogged all Kenyans' hopes of just and equitable rule. As of writing this, there has not been a single successful prosecution of a senior Kenyan official on corruption charges. When cases were about to be brought to court, offices would be broken into and burnt out, or dockets would disappear and witnesses would be 'bought'.
I wrote a blog story about one particular night’s news coverage. What struck me at the time, and which I didn't adequately convey is that all the statements and denials by officials had an air of utter disdain – almost contempt - for the Kenyan people.
'Believe what I am saying or get stuffed' seemed the prevailing attitude. Even the reporting itself was so matter-of-fact it was like someone was reading today’s tide table. That is changing now.
But in early 2010 there were news broadcasts like I describe, quite typical of many at the time.
Last night on NTV - the more liberal of the TV stations - there were no less than four new items concerning the wholesale corruption that is the national leadership’s obsession.
There was an item saying that at least 87% of the transactions completed by the Kenyan national water company in Nairobi are fraudulent (figures by Transparency International from a customer survey)! The total value of the embezzlement is staggering, in billions of Shillings annually.
Most of the “water corruption” concerns water supplies that are diverted away from where they are supposed to go and given rather to someone who can afford to pay the bribe to have it diverted and can then sell it to his neighbours.
The next news item deals with an outbreak of cholera in Nairobi that has, in one week, claimed 81 lives. Sadly, no connection is made between the water company corruption and this water-borne disease. Of course, the corruption means there is no running water for most of the time in Nairobi’s slums. Black pools of shitty water lie everywhere. Ripe grounds for a cholera outbreak, I’m sure. Malaria too!
Then there’s a follow-on story where the head of the electricity company has his say: he simply can’t be called corrupt “yesterday, today and every day”. End of news clip. I ask, why can’t you be called permanently corrupt if you are? And so far, billions of Shillings have gone missing from the coffers of the electricity utility in Kenya. No wonder “stima bado?” (no electricity yet?) issues between ‘house girls’ on a daily basis and why commerce needs to invest in generators to keep their businesses going.
Then there’s a fourth item, concerning the Youth Development Fund and the fact that 1.5 billion Shillings (that's like 20 million Dollars) is unaccounted for. Of course, there’s no existing paper trail to indicate the private accounts into which the money was channelled.
No wonder the youth remain so lost in this barren environment. The total endowment to the youth fund was 2.5 billion Shillings – so they have lost more than half of what is due for youth development projects. Of course, the money has been stolen by exactly those people entrusted with developing the youth – so what hope can one hold? No wonder the sense of alienation and estrangement I feel among the youth in Kenya. More than tragic.
Then the news cuts to a brief follow-up on a ‘typing error’ that Uhuru Kenyatta (the new Minister of Finance and son of the late Jomo) seems of have made. The typing error is the reason for the 10 billion Shilling discrepancy between ‘what is’ and what ‘should be’ in the Supplementary Budget. Never mind that the ‘typing error’ was seen by no less than five sets of eyes before getting to Parliament.
The 'follow-up' to this 10 billion Shilling secretarial lapse comprises a statement from the parliamentary Select Committee (very ‘select’) which states, quite baldly, that it has examined the matter in detail (in one day, mind you) and is confident that no corruption has taken place. End of story.
This type of news coverage is so commonplace that the people of Kenya prefer sometimes to talk through the 'politics' on TV. They are left utterly sickened by what they see, totally unable to do anything about it, and frustrated to the hilt as a result. They would rather - and seem almost determined to - blah blah blah through the politics rather than actually hear what is going on....
I became very quickly, and acutely, aware of the dynamics driving Kenyans’ governance. The divide between the rich and the poor was enormous. The rich have everything in Kenya and ordinary Kenyans have very little, or nothing. I had really known nothing of this before. But within a week of arriving in Nairobi there were signs of serious dissent from some quarters and there would have been more if Kenyans could stage protests. But they were unable to, and only a few were actually brave enough to take a stand.
President Kibaki gave an address on Kenya's Independence Day (Jamhuri Day, December 12) at the national stadium. I watched suited 'heavies' struggling to extricate a journalist railing against the impending media restrictions. As the camera tracked around the stadium, all I could see were miserable faces. This was no festivity of freedom. The mood was dark and sombre. People were attending to express their dissatisfaction, nothing else.
Within a month I knew the simmering discontent. But Kenyans take things that way. They might simmer but they don't often explode.
***
But then I learned that Kenya had already exploded, a year prior to my arrival. The zenith of discontent came after the presidential election in 2007, and resulted in what became known as the ‘post-election violence’.
I wasn't in Kenya at the time but it sounds like they were difficult, decisive days for Kenya. And the aftermath is still being dealt with as I write.
***
The 'takings' from holding positions of power and prestige in Kenya are so huge that members of the so-called 'political class' will do many things to maintain their place.
The 2007 presidential election is widely believed to have been ‘stolen’ from the Orange Democratic Movement, a party led largely by Kenya's Luo people, by the Party for National Unity, led largely by the Kikuyu people. Old tricks of ballot rigging came to the fore and the man who everyone thought should win – Raila Odinga – didn’t win.
It was widely suspected that the poll was going to be rigged and when the election results were delayed, the youth erupted spontaneously. They wanted change and they saw it in Raila Odinga. But they saw it wasn't going to happen.
They started by rioting, burning and looting. Things escalated and from 30th December through to the New Year the whole country was rocked by unprecedented politically-motivated violence.
In order to keep what was illegally wrested, certain people hired a private army to enforce their illegitimate position. Those on the other side responded in kind and the whole thing got out of hand.
The final result was that over 1300 people were killed in three days, hundreds of thousands displaced, shops looted and women raped. Death and destruction came to Kenya in a way that Kenyans were unaccustomed. And today, Kenyans remain totally appalled that it could have happened in their country. It's just not a violent place.
Eight months after the violence and after international mediation, a coalition government was formed that included Raila Odinga as Prime Minister. I arrived a short while after that and politics seemed then to be dominated by squabbles between President Kibaki's party and the newly-appointed Prime Minister's party. And now still, Kenyan politics is focussed on this squabbling. Again, it seems almost as if these squabbles are a ploy to keep Kenyans away from the essential political reality: the 'political class' have everything while ordinary Kenyans have nothing.
***
Some months after the formation of the coalition government it was announced that the International Criminal Court at The Hague was looking at the possibility of crimes against humanity having been perpetrated during the post-election violence.
The International Criminal Court is due to act against certain (as yet undisclosed) ‘names’, placed in an envelope by (ex) Chief Justice Phillip Waki nearly two years ago. These ‘names’ belong to senior political figures (MP’s and others) suspected of having organized and sponsored Kenya's 'post-election violence' in 2007/8 - violence that left more than 1300 Kenyans (of all tribes) dead.
Luis Moreno Ocampo, the man who successfully prosecuted members of the Argentinian junta some years back, is the chief prosecutor at The Hague. He now has the envelope with the ‘names’ in his possession. He evidently loves horses. But you can see, just by looking at him, his loves aside, you wouldn’t want to face him in a court of law. The words gritty and tenacious come to mind.
Quite a few senior Kenyan officials must be terrified right now. They should be. The pursuit of justice at The Hague might not be swift but the results are likely to be enduring for the main protagonists of the post-election violence. You see, they are to be charged with genocidal acts and crimes against humanity! And Ocampo says he wants to make ‘an example’ of Kenya.
Ocampo came here a few weeks back to establish whether a ‘local tribunal’, to try suspects in Kenya, was going to be established. Word from Harambee House (the Sate President’s office) was that no, it was not going to happen. Fine, Ocampo said, and promptly jumped back on his plane to present pre-trial evidence at The Hague.
Kenyan politics can sometimes be so transparent that it’s laughable … I don’t think Ocampo’s plane had even landed back at The Hague when President Kibaki and others were backtracking and saying they WERE in fact going to establish the local option. Too late, Ocampo cried.
Aside from Kibaki’s sham statement, there actually have already been a few attempts to establish a local tribunal to try suspects. So far, the attempts have been without success: the scheduled debates are being boycotted in parliament. So far, there has not even been a quorum of members in attendance (for a variety of reasons, on both sides).
But the international community sees a local tribunal as the preferred option (rather than the ICC) and just two days ago, Kofi Annan bemoaned the fact that the local option had not been established. But if Mr. Annan knew anything about the reality of politics, and the current judiciary in Kenya, he would actually be rather glad … The most likely outcome of the local tribunal would be that the envelope containing the names gets mysteriously lost on the way to the prosecutor's office!
But, jokes aside (and I guess it’s not really a joking matter), if anyone were actually to stand trial locally (already a very doubtful prospect), it would be beyond 2012, for sure. You see, things here move slooooooowly. And 2012 is the year of Kenya’s next general election. Because the habit here is to treat parliamentarians like gods, the result would be that everyone of note (by then re-elected public officers) would be found innocent. And this would be for a variety of fabricated reasons.
Since the writing of the above piece, Ocampo has made known the names of 6 people he wishes to prosecute and has been steadily gathering witnesses and evidence against them. He has already played a very crafty legal game, into which the Kenyan government has played itself unwittingly.
But the ICC moves slowly, so the cases are likely to go on for a long time. The dynamics of the cases will be extremely interesting because they will uncover the workings of both a 'third force' and even a fourth one in Kenya!
***
There’s this ‘gang’, or ‘sect’ in Kenya called the Mungiki. Their precise origin is not known but they rose in the 80s, during Daniel Arap Moi’s era of rule. Supposedly, the original intention of Mungiki was to provide employment opportunities for the Kikuyu youth. However, they have steadily become a gang of extortionists and racketeers and are, literally, quite bloodthirsty murderers. In self-styled Mau-Mau mimicry, they like to behead and gouge the eyes of their victims.
The more devout, and no doubt dangerous, members of Mungiki wear thick dreadlocks and may be seen wearing a scarf of Kenyan colours - red, green, black and white - but the white is notably absent. During initiation they wear a poncho of animal hide, are reputed to drink blood and take an oath of allegiance. And they are certainly behind the more rampant aspects of crime in Kenya.
During the 'Michuki era' in the '90s, the police were given permission to kill Mungiki members on sight. So one doesn't see them around much – certainly not 'dressed'. But in my first month in Nairobi, I saw three Mungiki members downtown, walking on the island that separates the traffic on Tom Mboya Street.
We saw them walking downtown, fully dressed and looking the picture of scrawny wickedness. I watched them in the rear view mirror after Brenda and Erica had jumped under the dashboard and back seat respectively.
“Heh-Heyyyeeee …!. Mungiki …!” squealed Brenda.
“Kabi-sssssss-a …!” (Fullllly), hissed Erica.
Mungiki are sometimes replete with dreadlocks, which maybe answers my query as to why I didn’t see any dreadlocks at the reggae festival shown on TV: wearing dreadlocks could get you killed in Kenya. But it probably also accounts for some local confusion between Mungiki and the Mau-Mau who also wore locks. But don't be confused: the Mau-Mau were liberators of the Kenyan people. Mungiki are thugs.
Mungiki comprised the private Kikuyu army during the post-election violence. It's hardly surprising since senior Mungiki leaders are rumoured to be in government itself and the gang would anyway have a natural allegiance to Kikuyu interests; it's their tribe.
Mungiki were charged with the task of identifying the opponents of Kikuyu rule in various regions of Kenya. Mungiki inquisitors went around and found their primary targets. They painted red crosses on the gates of people that were considered the biggest threat. Mungiki foot soldiers then came round later to burn the houses and either beat or kill their occupants.
Brenda was my first girlfriend in Nairobi. She's a member of the Luo tribe and a strong and vocal supporter of Raila Odinga. Her house was branded with a red cross. Not a good thing. No one could venture out at the time and she spent a day and a night in abject terror with her young daughter, waiting for their punishment to be meted out.
But just as Brenda was expecting the visitation, she heard via mobile phone that the Maasai, on whose land her house stands, had called a meeting with Mungiki. What she heard was that the Maasai quite simply told Mungiki leaders that 'anyone living on Maasai land lives there as a guest of the Maasai'. And the caller quoted what they had said thereafter:
“If you have a problem with a guest, you have a problem with the Maasai.”
“Before you deal with the guest, you'll have to deal with the Maasai.”
Enough said.
And needless to say, Mungiki were not seen anywhere in Ngong Town, where Brenda still lives. It is an attestation to the respect afforded the Maasai and the dignity and grace with which they conduct themselves.
***
During all my time in Kenya, I heard regular reports (two or three a month, at least) of Mungiki actions and killings and in conversation I could gauge the dark, mythical status they had gained in Nairobi.
When I moved out of my house in Westlands I was assisted by Martin, a company driver, and the very first person to tell me about Mungiki. He brought his two brothers along. As we loaded the pick-up, his radio was playing Kameme FM, the local Kikuyu radio station. A song came on, and everyone froze. Martin whispered to me:
“This is the song the Mungiki sing.”
Work stopped as everyone listened in awe. Nothing moved until the song was over. Maybe it was just via the association, but the song seemed very creepy to me.
Legend has it that Mungiki members pay 1 Shilling a day into the Mungiki coffers and the sect is believed to have in excess of 2 million members. That amounts to large-scale self-financing! Enough to start a small war.
***
Mungiki are seldom identifiable in public because of the threat of lethal fire but their members operate in, and are known throughout the ghettos for their illegal activities, preying on the public. Sometimes Mungiki members take their extortion, racketeering and robbery too far and the people take the law into their own hands. The public knows full well the police are unlikely to act.
Lynching of Mungiki members does happen but in the event of any reprisal against them, Mungiki have a policy of killing two people for every one of theirs killed. The results are often scary. They use ruthless methods for spreading terror:
Two weeks or so ago, the residents of a few Nairobi ghettos started taking the law into their own hands and lynched 9 Mungiki members who were known thieves, extortionists and racketeers in various ghetto communities.
After the lynching, it took a week for Mungiki to react. They reacted true to form and took their usual “two for one”, massacring no less than 20 innocent people. The people were drawn in the dead of night to a fire deliberately started at a ghetto house. Simply, the first 20 to get there were mercilessly murdered. Many of them were beheaded. Some had their eyes gouged out.
The events were followed by the usual hue and cry over Mungiki’s actions in Kenya and highlighted the tiredness of the people in having to deal with the Mungiki threat – but to no avail and a conspicuous lack of comment from government.
So here was this 'third force', hunted by the police but strangely supported by the government of the day at the same time. It made for some interesting dynamics in the society.
***
On the very day I left Kenya, while waiting for my ride to the airport, three Mungiki members walked past as I stood outside the Ambassadeur Hotel.
The guy in front had dreadlocks that any devout Rastafarian would be proud of. Thick plaits of hair reached down to his shoulders and obscured his face in an unruly gesture. He wore plain khaki and walked in front with purpose.
The two behind him were interesting. The one was wearing something akin to a lab coat but had thick bracelets around his legs that were acting as an audible rattle; a swishing sound as he walked. The other, on the far side, was wearing a loose-fitting cow hide covering his shoulders and torso.
They were all wearing long scarves in the colours of the Kenyan flag but the white was not there. This, on my last day, was quite a scary sight. People stopped dead in their tracks as the three of them strode past, swishing for attention.
They seemed so brazen in their display that I wondered if this wasn't perhaps a part of the Mungiki initiation; where you ‘flash’ your new ‘colours’ and test your mettle against the possibility of being shot?
And maybe that was also what Brenda, Erica and I saw, so early on in my stay.
***
If Mungiki were indeed used by certain people to foment ethnic war during the post-election violence, and Mungiki members are ‘witnesses’ to this, no wonder then that there were ongoing ‘extra-judicial’ killings being perpetrated.
In February 2009, the EU’s Special Rapporteur, Professor Philip Alston was in Kenya to investigate, and report on, the spectre of so-called ‘extra judicial killings’ in the country. It seems the EU had become quite concerned about what it was hearing about lethal fire being levelled (more-or-less at will) at members of the Kenyan public.
You see, an 'extra judicial killing' occurs when someone dies at the hands of the security forces without recourse to due process in the law. No charges are laid. No evidence is led. The person is simply shot down and purposefully killed.
"Killings by the police in Kenya are systematic, widespread and carefully planned”, Alston said.
“They are committed at will and with utter impunity.”
The Kenya government's reaction was simply typical:
"The government finds it inconceivable that someone who has been in the country for less than ten days can purport to have conducted comprehensive and accurate research on such a serious matter".
I mean, what did Alston actually need to research? It's all pretty much in the open and freely reported. You don't need a Ph.D. to work out what is happening here...
I continued to blog these issues and a few weeks after Alston's visit there was a rather incredible report that I heard on radio. What was most incredible was the level of supposition on the part of the police, and the lack of follow up in the press. I became very disillusioned with the state of, or lack of, investigative journalism in Kenya.
Last week Wednesday is a case in point. It was a rather spectacular example that I woke up to on radio news (and was later reported in one or two sidebars in the newspapers):
Five ‘suspected thugs’ were gunned down and killed in the vicinity of the Delamere farm. This, after police received ‘an anonymous tip-off’ that they were ‘going to rob’ households in the area. ‘A pistol was found in their possession’.
'Suspected thugs' means, of course, that they could be anybody. ‘Anonymous tip-off’ means that the source cannot be traced and cannot be held accountable in any way. That they were ‘going to’ commit a crime means that no crime had in fact been committed. And the lone pistol that was found with them is perhaps the same pistol that has been ‘found’ on 'suspected thugs' before. No mention was made in the reports of there being any rounds of ammunition in the pistol.
It is widely suspected here that these killings are simply a means for certain people in Kenya’s government to rid themselves of unwanted opposition, spent resources, or ‘evidence’ in certain cases . . .
What bothers me the most in the ‘Delamere incident’ (other than the deaths themselves) is that there was absolutely NO report as to who the dead actually were. No names were released. No press reports detailed the grief of their families. No claims were made by family members themselves.
I would imagine that the ‘suspected thugs’ were actually ‘gunned’ beyond recognition and that the family members are simply too scared to ask what happened to their father or brother.
The victims might well have been senior Mungiki members. And, if so, I’d say that they might have had a few facts pertaining to the sponsorship of Mungiki by senior political figures during Kenya’s post-election violence in 2007/8 ... Facts that certain people in government don’t want out in the open right now.
Of course, there was clear and mounting evidence to me that some people in government had access to a hit squad - a "fourth force" - that was eradicating witnesses and evidence, and 'fixing' anyone who promised to be a thorn in their side. 'Suspected thugs' (read Mungiki) were being killed all the time during my stay but I felt I needed to clarify, if only for myself, who the real thugs were.
Extra judicial killings may be ‘aimed at’ (if I may use the term) slightly less desirable members of this society. But, if truth be told, the instigators of those killings (not the ‘executioners’ themselves) are perhaps a lot less desirable in this society. If this society is to break the shackles of enslavement from years of political, economic and social repression, it has to rid itself of the forces that purport to be its ‘elected’ leadership but which are really just nefarious individuals (and groups) playing a lethal game of power politics for personal gain.
Around June 2010, Mungiki’s second in command was gunned down in a downtown shop after an alleged ‘argument’ with an unknown gunman. The gunman was never apprehended.
In a society where guns are a rarity except among the security forces, for Mungiki's second-in-command to be gunned down by a citizen is too unbelievable for words. If not a citizen, then who?
Late in my stay, the ICC provided protective custody for many of the witnesses, Mungiki and others. It was a bit late because I suspect the killing of key witnesses had been going on for a while
***
But the really interesting case for me was that of Mungiki's leader, Maina Njenga.
Njenga had been languishing in jail and was due to face 28 charges of murder. No one knew where he was being held but then suddenly he's released without fanfare from a local jail for ‘lack of evidence’! Lack of evidence in 28 counts of murder? Not likely.
Maina lays low for a short while.
I'm watching the news on NTV On Sunday night when I see Maina Njenga being ‘born again’ at Bishop Margaret Wanjiru’s ‘Jesus is Alive Ministries’. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. But, quite quickly, it made sense to me. This was my sarcastic take on the proceedings:
‘John’ the Baptised
As of Sunday 6th December 2009 he shall be known as ‘John’ Maina Njenga; for he has been ‘born again’ and baptised such at Bishop (and Assistant Minister for Housing) Margaret Wanjiru’s ‘Jesus is Alive Ministries’ in Nairobi. Until recently, he was boss of Kenya’s horrific Mungiki sect. Now he says he’s “a fish”. ‘John’ is clearly a changed man.
Bishop Wanjiru took the trouble of telling us on TV that ‘John’ was ‘serious’ about his new self and that the landscape of Kenya was forever changed. I thought this was quite strange because never before have I heard of someone newly 'born again' being given high-level support regarding the genuineness of his delivery from sin. There she was, smile fixed on her face, eyes darting from side to side, making public her statement on ‘John’ the Baptised
John’s brief swim (in what looked like a cattle dip pen) was reportedly followed by a brief swim by a few hundred other Mungiki members (or should I say 'ex' Mungiki members?). Not all were dipped into the flock. Some will have to come back again next week.
Maina Njenga was released from King’ong’o maximum-security prison in Nyeri. He was previously at the infamous Kamiti Prison. While at Kamiti he had threatened to ‘name names’. Among those names were reputed to be senior government officials and MP’s responsible for sponsoring Mungiki in the post-election violence. Maina was moved to Nyeri but everyone thought he had disappeared. As in, permanently disappeared … But no, it seems he was safe in Nyeri, chatting with a few people.
Then Maina was suddenly released. And interestingly, he gets released on the same day that saw the release of Thomas Cholmondeley, grandson to Lord Delamere (now-deceased), and descendant of the “Happy Valley” group depicted in “White Mischief”.
Cholmondeley (pronounced “Chomly”) had been given a term of 8 months after being convicted for killing an alleged poacher. This happened on the 57,000 hectare Delamere farming estate near Naivasha and was his second charge of murder. The charge got dropped to manslaughter and he served a little less than the allotted 8 months he was given to 'think about' his behaviour.
It was of course hoped that by releasing Maina and Thomas together on the same day, the peoples’ outcry would surround Cholmondeley’s premature release and no one would notice that Maina had been sprung too. But the fact is there was hardly an outcry about either release. A bit on TV. A front page of the daily papers on the Friday they got out. But no follow-up. No analysis pertaining to why they might have been both released on the same day.
So what is one to make of all of this? ‘Street opinion’ is that Maina's threat to ‘name names’ was met, quite simply, with a very serious threat upon his life. But he could not die mysteriously in prison because Mungiki would have made one of their notorious revenge attacks – perhaps in Loresho or Karen – and perhaps one or two of local politician's family members would have been found, sans head, in the street.
Rather than face this possibility, it is widely believed that the guilty parties thought it wiser to organise the release of the Mungiki leader ... But with an offer he couldn’t exactly refuse.
If I were to make a movie, the script would go something like this:
“Maina, we are letting you out. And you must shut up. You will go with Margaret and get born again. Everyone will think it’s legitimate. Alternatively, someone will fix you in the street like we just fixed your second-in-command. We’ll say we got a tip off that you were about to commit a crime. And you see this pistol …? We will plant it on you after you are dead, to prove that you were up to no good...”
“Whaddya say Maina?”
[Maina nods in solemn agreement]
Nice scene in the movie.
Maina was facing something like 28 charges of murder. We are not sure exactly how many, because we didn’t get to hear the docket read in court. But he is contemplated with terror by a great many people here. People who know things. And there was no way he was going to defend himself successfully against all the cases (even WITH the threatening of witnesses by Mungiki).
And murder carries the death penalty in Kenya.
***
When I first arrived in Kenya there were quite a few reports of anti-government activists who went missing. And later in my stay some were found with single bullet wounds in the head. They were found in either the Karura forest or in isolated areas of the Ngong Hills.
While I was in Rwanda during March 2009, two activists were killed a few days after speaking to Alston. Student riots followed. The riots were quelled by killing one student and firing some tear-gas. The students were barricaded in their residences for a week by ever-present police and Land Rovers at the single entrance.
An eyewitness to the assassination of the two activists, and the only person who might have been able to identify the uniformed men who did the killing, was ‘taken to a local hospital’ and, to my knowledge, was never seen again.
It was going on all around Kenya. The hit squad was busy. And it was not something the Kenyan press followed up at all!
***
A year and a half after arriving in Kenya I was able to write the following blog entry, submitted to two Nairobi newspapers but not taken by either. When I wrote it I was certainly in a jubilant mood for Kenya.
And my jubilation wasn’t unfounded. Kenyans voted quite strongly in favour of their new constitution despite some strong opposition from the church on two ‘contentious clauses’: special allowances made for customary Muslim jurisdiction in family matters, and the existence of an ‘abortion loophole’ (abortion on advisement from a medical professional). I didn’t think either of the clauses should hold back heralding in the new. So I expressed my jubilation like this:
Twice in a Lifetime
We queued for hours to vote for Madiba because, after decades of repression, we knew our time had eventually come. We recognized being on the brink of a new age and we knew better times were ahead. The ‘struggle for freedom’ had been won.
It was a privilege for me to experience this in South Africa and I hope to experience the great privilege again, this time in Kenya. But today I can’t urge any Kenyan to vote in any particular direction. It is indeed a matter of personal conscience that should never have been a matter of campaign.
But IF Kenya’s new constitution is passed, it will achieve nothing less than the self-same ‘liberation’ I experienced in South Africa. Kenyans shall be similarly freed from decades of repression. And the nation will stand proud, simply by virtue of being ‘free’.
I think few Kenyans truly appreciate the effect that a simple ‘sense’ of freedom has. Stemming from the rough-shod ride they have had, and the so-called ‘culture of impunity’ all the way, ordinary Kenyans have a deep-rooted pessimism about all aspects of their past, current and future governance ... Many don’t believe that anything will change at all.
Yet in South Africa, just the idea of ‘freedom’ led to many ordinary people jumping up and down, complaining about their rights being violated. And when they took it to the highest court, they stood there with mouths wide open as they found their rights were consistently upheld and defended. There quickly grew a knowledge that the change really was ‘for real’ and nothing would be the same again. And the same will happen here. The courts had better be ready for it.
I hope and pray that within a few years Kenyans will shake their heads in dismay that things could have been so bad and that things are now so much better; simply because they feel ‘free’ and are free to act in their own interests. Things fall apart. And other things change radically for the better.
By voting at this stage in the nation’s history, Kenyans have nothing to lose and absolutely everything to gain. And by voting, they will have played a part in the future. Today I still feel proud of the fact that I was a small part of the change that came to South Africa. I urge Kenyans to do the same today – be a part of history and vote!
And really, that which is born of freedom is so much greater than the feeling of darkness and oppression that will remain while the ‘contentious clauses’ are dealt with. Paul Muite said it succinctly the other day: “The liberation of Kenya is not about abortion or Khadi’s courts”. It is about liberating Kenya from decades of hegemony. And the nation is on the brink of achieving this liberation.
Can the country stand another year of darkness just to renegotiate these ‘contentious clauses’? I don’t think so. I know the youth couldn’t stand it. And that is who the document is really intended for - the youth and their children’s children.
That there is an abortion ‘loophole’ I will readily agree. Abortion will be performed under advisement of a trained medical professional - perhaps even a psychologist. It is true that this will essentially legalise abortion. But, dogma aside, I see this as the only humane solution for every population- and poverty-strained nation in Africa. We know that the abortion will happen anyway, perhaps with lethal consequences for the mother. Is there not perhaps an argument in favour of pragmatic and humane tolerance in the face of dire need?
The churches can certainly rail against abortion anywhere they like. It is their right to do so. But is it their right to impose their beliefs on everyone else? Who wants to commit a young woman and her child to a life of misery for the sake of partisan beliefs? Destitution and prostitution don’t contribute much to a wholesome and healthy nation. And surely, a healthy nation, with humane treatment of its people, should be the long-term imperative of any state.
I also don’t think the Khadi’s courts should be mentioned in the new law at all. The courts should simply be protected under a Right of Religion and the right to practice such anywhere in the country (not just in the ‘coastal strip’). The Khadi’s courts pertain to family matters and don’t affect mainstream law in Kenya at all. Those that abide by the courts will always do so in accordance with long-standing (pre-Colonial) cultural and religious practices. So, let’s face it, no one else other than Muslims need to be concerned with the Khadi’s courts.
But, all in all, I believe that on this day good sense will prevail and the katiba will indeed be passed by an overwhelming majority. I believe Kenyans will vote unerringly with the interests of their fellows, and their children, at heart, and will very gladly usher in a new era. And those that have opposed the new era may well find themselves on the scrap-heap of history.
Kenya, I wish you every success for the future you deserve. For your future is indeed bright.
***
Political dynasties, if they are not overthrown, take time to be replaced. And there is at least some hope of this happening despite the long-standing tendency of Kenyans to see politics as the exclusive preserve of the few. As of writing this, Kenya is having a hard time with implementation. There are just too many vested interests in the old regime. And saboteurs.
In 2010 a few young Turks stood forward as the supposed 'new guard' and won. But it took just a few months for some of them to be banned from travel to the US for suspected drug trafficking. I was back in South Africa at the time and felt nothing but a huge wave of despair for the Kenyan youth but my friend William Kingi reminded me that they were all, in any event, just chips off the old political class block.
If the youth want their government out they need to start finding their successors now. A process of vetting – trial by media if you will – needs to be conducted. It's proven hard to find untainted candidates in Kenya so far.
***
At time of writing this, Ocampo has presented a list of 6 people he is going to prosecute. A big sigh of relief went up in Kenya as the people finally knew who was involved. And so far, the Kenyan people have strongly supported the international judicial process, generally not believing that justice would be served inside Kenya.
But then President Kibaki played another of his jokes and suggested the establishment of a local tribunal. This is perhaps to find everyone innocent and to throw doubt on the ICC outcomes. But it's a bit late now. And as I type, Kenya's MP's are seeking the country's withdrawal from the Rome Statute which adheres Kenya to ICC jurisdiction but, in retort, civil society has managed to collect a million signatures from Kenyans in support of the ICC action.
Slowly it seems, Kenyans are realizing their own power and are starting to vote with their hearts and minds, and online, if not yet via their feet and voices. The fact of the ribbon protest, held just before Christmas, may be the harbinger of things to come. The online 'petition' too.
***
The bottom line of all this is that Kenyans have actually had a very hard time of it since independence. Successive regimes have simply impoverished them more than the one before. Yet, despite it all, Kenyans have maintained their open and warm manner about and have somehow managed to smile through it all.
In houses everywhere you see a sticker that says:
“Najivunia kuwa Mkenya” (I am proud to be Kenyan)
But they are not so proud of Kenya. They want change. And they need it soon.
***
So that’s the recent background to Kenya, befitting a visit to Nairobi. It will probably help you to understand the newspapers, television, and general mood of Nairobi better. It's all there to be seen if you know what you are looking at!
The intrigue that has really gone on – and still goes on - is probably richer than most of us could imagine but whatever the case, it’s easy to see that the nefarious state of Kenyan politics is about power and access to the vast riches in what is one of the world’s most corrupt governments.
Very simply, the ill-gotten gains of the parastatal boss, or the salary of an MP in Kenya, are both so big that people will arrange to have others bumped off if the path to power and prestige is thwarted. Using understatement, typical of me sometimes, I used to say,
“Siasa Wakenya? Ni chafu sana!” (Kenyan politics? It's very dirty!)
This always used to get heads nodding and raise a few laughs. But I think the way I said it somehow got to Kenyans. They laughed bitterly, knowing it wasn't a joke at all.
***
I got quite outspoken with my opinions in Kenya. I spoke out against Apartheid and suppose I got taken by some of my erstwhile 'struggle' fervour. At one stage, online in my Kilimani apartment, I even attracted death threats on a Facebook news feed. The threats came from someone clearly familiar with intelligence work and most likely working for the feared General Services Unit (GSU). I forget his name. But I had criticised the GSU and he quoted blog pieces back to me about 'disappearing without a trace in Kenya', asking if I ever thought about that happening to me.
While I didn't actually get scared, it did get me thinking that this was not my country and perhaps I should leave things for the Kenyans to sort out. I landed up writing a lot less political diatribe after that. What I had seen – like the levels of poverty in some of the ghettos – versus the largely ill-gotten wealth of the leadership, was sickening. The attitude of Kenya's leadership towards the people of Kenya was despicable. And they were indeed despised. All these things concerned me.
But I had already let it all out.
-oOo-
