The Baragoi Massacre

On Sunday 11 November 2012, forty-two Kenyan police officers, including 12 members of the Samburu tribes’ “home guard”, were gunned down and killed by Turkana cattle rustlers –morans (warriors)- in Suguta Valley, situated in the Baragoi District of Samburu County.

The police contingent, numbering more than 100, was attempting to recover some 450 heads of cattle that had been stolen by the warriors 10 days prior. They were lured into a valley and died in a hail of automatic rifle fire from the ridge above.

One of the injured commented: “They were not so many, but the way they had organised themselves was like they had received information earlier. Most of my colleagues, including our commanders were shot. Some of them survived”. After the massacre, the Turkana morans recovered the dead policemen’s automatic arms, including “the big ones”.

Police Commissioner Mathew Iteere had the sense to admit that it was a strategic fail on the part of the police. “There was an ambush and even the best trained and armed officers anywhere in the world would find it difficult”. Among the Turkana, only four were injured but they went “in the bush to avoid arrest”.

It was described as the biggest ‘massacre’ in Kenya’s post-independence history.

http://www.africareview.com/News/Kenya-police-massacre-death-toll-rises/-/979180/1618480/-/fe5499z/-/index.html

John Munyes, a Turkana MP, denied it was a massacre. He gave the Turkana side of the story: they perceived the intrusion of the police as an act of aggression. And felt compelled to protect their women and children. It was simple self-defence in their opinion. Turkana leaders were later taken to court over their stance but it was later accepted and their cases were dropped. It’s a different world here.

In this part of Kenya, the pastoral lifestyle, in very arid regions, leads to constant conflict over grazing land. Hustling bits of cool moist grass is the way of life for herders on the Baragoi plain and elsewhere. It has been for centuries. But the way of life among morans is different. For centuries, their talk has turned to thievery. Cattle rustling is what morans often do; it’s one way that the tribe survives.

With this kind of age-old tradition, it’s likely that nothing will change anytime soon. These are people who have lived the same way for many centuries and for whom the regular laws of Kenya often don’t apply. They are wont to say they’re “going to Kenya” when they leave their tribal land.

With heavily armed morans, an encroaching force needs to know what it’s doing if it wants to get back what the warriors have taken such trouble to steal! In this case, the police were simply outwitted and outmanoeuvred. Maybe they’d have done better staying out of it all.  

http://www.the-star.co.ke/news/article-98557/baragoi-massacre-untold-story

I personally see no problem with the way of life, only with the choice of weaponry. The knives are still there but the spears and arrows are long gone, replaced by automatic weapons. In fact, the effect of this firepower in some pastoral communities has been such that few men are left. It’s the women who have become herders and they too have turned to the AK for their protection. 

The issue never once came up in news reports nor TV discussions about the massacre, but the important one for me is how the communities got so armed in the first place? Border security is a matter for the armed forces of Kenya, not for Kenya’s communities to enforce. For the rest, these are not war zones. These are Kenyans fighting Kenyans.

If only to protect the communities involved, disarmament  across the entire north and northeast of Kenya should be looked at. It is probably the most important way of reducing the much-hyped problem of ‘insecurity’ in Kenya. The devastation that comes with the AK47 is so much more than what the long range spears can do, or the damage from arrows off a bow. And the police should just stay out and get to controlling the borders of this country.     

Clean Water Exhaustion

Like much of Africa, Kenya has been experiencing severe drought. In areas to the north, like Garissa near the Somali border, and the regions of Samburu and Lake Turkana, even the camels have been dying from dehydration! The recent ‘short rains’ have relieved some of the pressure, but the drought is by no means broken.

In Nairobi, the effect of the drought has been the introduction of water rationing on a well-regulated, now-you-have-it-now-you-don’t basis. One minute you hear water gurgling through the pipes … next minute you’re carrying a bucket of water to flush the loo. Plastics companies have made a fortune through the manufacture and sale of storage tanks that stand everywhere in peoples’ houses. And when it’s been a-gurgling there’s a massive rush for everyone to fill up their tanks. One wonders if the rationing has any effect at all with the amounts that are drawn when there IS water.

Be that as it may, the rationing has heralded some quite discomfiting times. There have been days when some areas have been devoid of the sacred maji for more than two days at a stretch! And water needs treatment with Water Guard to prevent bacterial outbreaks while it stands stagnant in the house. Thankfully, PSI (Population Services International) from the US, sponsors much of the cost of the water treatment and it can be obtained for 20 bob a bottle at most small outlets.

Of course, many Kenyans can’t afford even the 20 bob and have had to suffer as a result. Several (thankfully, small) outbreaks of cholera have been experienced. Maybe 100 people have died. Many of them have been children.

Until recently, the outbreaks have been quite mystifying, affecting only small parts of a particular community or perhaps just one small residential area. But, after a while, the source of these isolated occurrences became clearer.

Let me explain as best I can …

There are three main types of tanker trucks seen in Nairobi. The first is the common-garden petrol tanker that takes petrol, paraffin and other flammable, petro-chemical products from Mombasa all the way through to the Ugandan capitol of Kampala or even Kigali, in Rwanda. Using what are sometimes extremely bad roads, these tankers are prone to capsize. Kenyans are incinerated quite regularly when the liquid cargo catches alight as scores of villagers busily fill their buckets from the tanker’s prostrate hull.

Now, because of the drought, it has become common to see ‘water tankers’ on the roads. These blue-painted behemoths bear the legend ‘Clean Water’, emblazoned in white on their sides. They are charged with delivering maji to houses, hotels, commercial areas and residential ‘estates’. And along Ngong Road, there is something of a Tanker-Stop where 20 or more of these tankers can be seen at any one time, waiting for the call to action.

Then there is the third type of tanker: the ‘exhaust tanker’. Because water-borne sewage systems are uncommon in Nairobi, septic tanks require emptying, and residential estates (what the US calls ‘projects’) have to rely on ‘exhaust tankers’ to come and relieve the build-up of human waste and effluents. Also along Ngong Road, one sees these exhaust tankers parked in their plenty too. Many of them carry the charming legend of ‘Honey Sucker’ emblazoned on the side. These tankers are painted … you guessed it … brown.

But, lo-and-behold, there has been the recent, anomalous emergence of a new style of tanker: ‘the hybrid’. This style of tanker is two-tone. It has a freshly painted blue tank that says, like all the others, ‘Clean Water’. However, the tank itself stands on a chassis and frame that is suspiciously BROWN …!

You work it out!

Ever-keen to make a buck where possible, it seems that many of the tanker owners have resorted to what Kenyans are wont to call ‘unscrupulous’ business practices. It’s amazing what a bucket of blue paint can do for an erstwhile Honey Sucker’s business!

I’m just glad that it wasn’t my child that fell victim to the stuff of the two-tone tanker!

With love.

B-)

Here ... There ... Everywhere

Resistance is mounting. Pimples of dissent are breaking out everywhere.

Last week one-or-other Kenyan women’s group mounted a campaign of denial of conjugal rights to their married men-folk (I kid you not). On the face of it, this was in an attempt to bring pressure to bear on the government and to have the men, now charged with pent-up energy, to demand change, if only in order to regain paradise lost. The call was, of course, the talking point of every radio station, cabbie and street vendor in town. The question on everyone’s lips was whether this applied to unmarried men – or were they allowed to carry on regardless. Talk shows were inundated with voices of indignation, with few, if any, of the callers seriously questioning the logic behind the call.

I wondered about the logic of the call for some time, until I met a serious feminist earlier this week – who was so well-informed she clearly had something to do with the call itself – and who told me quite plainly that there was no serious intent behind the call except to conscientise the men of Kenya that there are gender issues that need consideration too … Essentially she said “How can men have automatic conjugal rights that violate basic human rights”. And I guess she was right.

This place never ceases to amaze me with some of the people I encounter.

Two weeks or so ago, the residents of a few Nairobi ghettos started taking the law into their own hands and resorted to lynching a few (9, I think) Mungiki members who were known extortionists and racketeers in the midst of 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 started those same Mungiki members charged with exacting revenge for killings of their own. 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.

And last week some time, the State President and some senior MP’s had to flee a stone-throwing mob at a recent political talk-a-thon. They failed to appear at their next gig, obviously expecting the same, and were most likely to have got the same. The pictures of the ‘mob’ in the papers were of a very angry bunch of young people. Yes, kind sirs, the people are pissed off!

Raila Odinga, widely acknowledged – nay, almost universally acknowledged – to have won the last election by a vast majority (but having had it ‘stolen’ by the Kibaki camp) called for a snap election. He was simply put in his place by a government announcement – a government he is supposedly part of – and widespread news coverage to the effect that snap elections are not catered for in the constitution and therefore could not happen.

Funnily enough, corruption and stealing from the electorate are also not covered by the constitution but seem to be very much a part of the current government’s mandate. Raila tries, but his opposition - within the self-same government - is much too smart and wily for him. It’s exactly the same scenario as Mugabe-Morgan. Morgan got himself thoroughly Raila’d! (That is, given a position with title but with little effect!)

Raila also said that because his party dominated the legislature – which it does quite substantially – he should be appointed the Speaker of Parliament to properly handle the business of each day. He was talked down from this position too. He was even talked down from attending a certain inauguration in SA today – even though he was going to do this in his private capacity.

I have said it before – gladly – and I say it again … The days of this particular Kenyan government are coming to an end. Reform is on the political agenda but it seems likely it will take a few years to get from the menu to the table.

Kenyan politics is so fraught with platitudes and assertions of rectitude and justice in all its affairs that it beats me how the Kenyan people continue to stomach it all with relatively straight faces. But talk of significant change there is. Perhaps it will never amount to anything more than talk. For the next few years, the Kenyan people might just be dragged along in the ever-distant hope of a new political order…

Just a quick note about the extent of government corruption and the effect it has had (and still has) on the Kenyan economy …

I blogged a while ago about the fact that Kenyan coffee was amongst the best in the world and that coffee was once Kenya’s single largest foreign income earner. It turns out that it was not just Uganda’s aggressive marketing that lost Kenya its place in world coffee markets. It had much more to do with the fact that the State was paying so little to the growers that many chose to turn their land over to vegetables for local consumption instead! And when the coffee market started to fail, the government wanted to invest enough to resuscitate it, only to find that BILLIONS of Shillings had simply ‘disappeared’ from the coffee co-op’s coffers! And the coffee industry has never, ever recovered. The cost of this to the Kenyan people is inestimable.

There is a ‘culture of expectation’ in Kenya that is something of a sickness here. I have only slowly become aware of it. It is known as “halafu” – or “what do you have for me?” There is an expectation here that if you are earning well – or are simply perceived as such – you should ‘give’. Because you are in a better position than someone else means that you are supposed to give beyond the cost of services rendered, if any …

Don’t get me wrong. I am the first to support charity where charity might well be due. But what of people who are actually earning on a daily basis but who just want ‘more’ simply because you are perceived to have more. I can’t really support that. I say, Kenyans, call on your government to create minimum wage laws and to create jobs for you, the people. Don’t expect other, regular people to make up for the blatant shortcomings of your rulers!

Kenya’s Colonial history clearly has something to do with it. Colonialism meant that the rich were seriously rich and the rest were subjugated under the economic yoke. When uhuru (freedom) came, the new black ‘masters’ simply continued in the same vein, perpetuating the self-same order of subjugation and subservience. Today, still, what the ‘average’ Kenyan gets paid is a crime and, in Nairobi, is nothing less than a crime against humanity.

Moving swiftly on: Last week I moved out of the ‘mansion’ in Spring Valley, to share a place in the leafy Nairobi suburb of Gigiri, home to the UN and the US Embassy (now under very serious armed guard and protection since the terrorist attack ten years ago). Jenny said that if I blog her again she WILL kill me, so I can’t say at whose place I am staying!

Spring Valley was just too expensive, given that I had non-deposit-paying tenants and massive electricity bills to foot. I am quite honestly relieved as I sit and view the Karura Forest and the monkeys prancing on the roof next door. The forest is huge and quite spectacular, completely surrounding Gigiri and all its inroads.

Martin, a driver from the office, assisted me with the move, bringing two of his friends and a large diesel pick-up for the task. We had just arrived at the Gigiri house of ‘my friend’ when Martin alerted me to the song playing on the Kikuyu radio station he was tuned to. It was the song that Mungiki sing. Perhaps because of the association alone, the song was nothing less than chilling.

The forest is a favourite spot for the unmarked graves of political dissidents. On Thursday morning I was sitting on the porch doing some work when I heard a lone, high velocity gunshot coming from just a few miles away. I wonder …

I had not seen that day’s Daily Nation but it seems that the gunshot coincided with the publication of 21 photographs and mention of people who have simply ‘disappeared’ over the last few months. The state mechanisms of silent but ruthless oppression ARE in evidence. Dominic, a cab driver I have become well-acquainted with since last week, tells me that those who ARE found bear simple, single-wound bullet holes in the front of the head. There are obviously some experienced executioners around. Enough on that. I have said it … Change is coming and let’s just hope it’s not too slow.

Aside from the absolutely fantastic road that leads from town to Gigiri (paid for by the UN), there’s a lot of road re-surfacing going on in and around Nairobi. And how welcome it is. I have commented on the roads just a little already but it seems that budgets have now been released into the public works fund to do what should have been done a few years ago. The Uhuru highway has been resurfaced from Mombasa Road in the south to just short of Westlands (which is ostensibly in the west, but is kinda in the north). While the tarring is done it creates absolute havoc but what a relief when the road opens the next day! Far fewer small, Japanese compact cars are disappearing, unexplained, on the highway these days!

Living in Gigiri for this short time now has given me one or two insights that cause me to retract at least some of what I have said earlier about Asian (lack of) integration …

I was sitting at the Village Market food court last week, simply watching the crowd, sipping on a cappuccino from Dorman's (“The Coffee Experts”). It was a Saturday afternoon and the place was ‘jum-pucked’. There’s this water feature that surrounds the food court.

Standing next to the meandering water was a lanky Kenyan girl bearing obvious signs of adolescent self-consciousness. Standing next to her was her overweight mzungu friend (who was not the least bit self-conscious). The two were waiting for ‘something to happen’. It was about ten minutes later when something indeed happened. The ‘girls’ were joined by the ‘guys’ …

There were three … The first, a suave Kenyan Asian, sporting a suitably ‘gelled’ hair-aberrant coiffure. The second, a black Kenyan wearing a Dolce & Gabanna T-shirt. The third, an mzungu blondie who was probably the most sloppily dressed individual I have yet to see in Kenya!

Much laughter and fun jostling ensued between them. What was interesting was that the mzungu was flirting with the black chick; the Asian was flirting with the mzungu chick - threatening to throw her into the water - while the black guy just surveyed the crowd looking for something interesting. The latter was doing the right thing in that his good looks meant he could be a little selective. The table of young girls next to me was quite abuzz with the prospect of being noticed.

So, yes folks, there is indeed hope for a more racially integrated Kenya in future. And if it is to be seen anywhere it has to be in Gigiri where the elite and future-King Kenyans are to be found … It was really good to see.

I suppose, in a lot of ways, the honeymoon phase of my Kenya experience is over. I am more aware of the shortfalls of the country, of the problems that abound and of the changes that need to come. But it leaves me no less enamoured with the place. It IS an extremely beautiful country with lovely people – people I feel far closer to than many of the violent, negligent, gun-toting individuals back home …

There are 42 distinct ‘tribes’ spread across Kenya’s wide plains and there has been very little mixing over the years. So far, I have blogged a few details pertaining to a few of the tribes. Not long ago, I blogged about the Maasai and their ‘loan’ of land in Ngong to fellow Kenyans (but not to Mungiki).

I heard very recently that Nairobi is actually a Maa word meaning “place of clear waters” and that Nairobi is actually also Maasai land. This accounts for the fact that Martin and I nearly crashed into a cow crossing the road in Hurlingham the other day. This lone, leading cow was followed shortly by a great many others, and also by a Maasai herder that was taking them walkabout for a bit of grazing.

The Maasai have free grazing rights throughout Nairobi. Some years back, when the government of the day (Moi’s era, I think) tried to limit these grazing rights, the Maasai stated quite baldly that if the State wanted to limit their grazing, the State could quite simply give the Maasai land back! Did I hear the word “Whoa” emanating from Parliament Avenue?

And today, evidently, it is not uncommon for an informal, aspiring Keith Kirsten to lose all his potted stock to a Maasai herder’s hungry husbandry! Vooi tog!

One other bit of local lore ... I said before that the Kamba people are reputed to have ‘magic’. They are also reputed to be ‘lazy’, which is evidently why many Kamba men are gardeners and choose to loll around in the sun, in someone’s back yard! But as far as the magic goes, there is this story about the Kamba wife who was ‘fooling around’ a bit. She had this lover over one night (no doubt while hubby was riding his bicycle around town in the dead of night). They were kinda done with the throes of passion when the errant lover found that he could not ‘disengage’ … He was unable to ‘remove himself’ from his trespass! In time, the impish, round-headed Kamba husband returned home and scrutinized the scene to his satisfaction, issuing what were no doubt sufficient warnings to both parties. Once he was done with his diatribe he removed a cigarette lighter from his pocket and simply clicked it on … and the trespasser was freed of his bondage.

This story is so much a part of local legend that I have heard it separately from a few people already. Legend has it too that Kamba people don’t need to lock their doors at night. No-one dare enter their houses without permission!

You know it’s the rainy season in Kenya when there is constant advertising on radio for free mosquito nets and when all the supermarkets feature prominent promotions for anti-malarial potions and treatments. But the rainy season is truly beautiful, even if a little inconvenient at times … If you are walking in areas where there are no pavements (which are plenty) you have to slush around in the mud and have to beware each and every passing car and truck for fear of getting drenched in mud.

You know it’s rainy season in Kenya when one of your Meru staff gets constant calls from his Dad, imploring him to give up on the academic stuff and come help with the miraa farm. I told said researcher it might not be a bad idea considering the number of people I see chewing miraa (khat) these days! He declined.

I am toying with the idea of developing a ‘Kenya IQ’ test. Here are the first three questions …

Kikuyu is to money as Luo is to…

a) miraa
b) mosquito
c) mirror

Kikuyu is to money as Meru is to...

a) miraa
b) mosquito
c) mirror

Kikuyu is to money as Turkana is to...

a) miraa
b) mosquito
c) mirror

(Correct answers are c, a, b)

I suppose some indication of a country’s ‘spirit’ has to be drawn from the words one learns at the very start of one’s experience in the foreign land. In Kenya it has to do with the words themselves but also with the WAY in which these words are spoken. I have mentioned it before and give it brief mention here again: The Kenyan people speak beautifully, whether in their native tongue – Swahili mainly – or in English. There is music to their speak that is indescribably beautiful. So I won’t try to describe it … Just know it to be true.

The first word you learn in Kenya, because you hear it so often, is “Karibu” (you are welcome) or “Karibu sana” (you are very welcome). Then, quite quickly, you learn to say the appropriate “Thank you” (asante) or asante sana. Early on, you also hear “pole sana” (pronounced pour-lair), meaning “I am sorry” (for you and/or your experience) and the seemingly similar (yet quite distinct) “pole-pole” meaning “slowly”.

The personal pronouns of “you” (wewe) or “me” (mimi) follow quite quickly, as do …

Wapi? Where?
Nini? What?
Lini? When?
Nani? Who?
Gani? Which (type)?
Yakho You (different context to ‘wewe’)
Uko You (another context)
Hapa Here
Hapo There
Aenda I go
Twende We go
Mingi Big
Kubwa Huge
Kidogo Small
Kwa With
Kutoka kwa From
Na And/with/have (and a few other meanings)
Nzuri Good, fine
Poa(poh-ah) Very good, Beautiful, Pretty

Etcetera, etcetera.

And I absolutely love the use of the term “ni-nini” meaning a “what-what” - or what South Africans would call a ‘dingis’. Another expression that I love is “si ndyo?”, meaning “not so?”. Many a statement, on just about any subject, is followed by “si ndyo?” – “wouldn’t you say so, isn’t it true?” It is beautifully self-affirming and a statement to the effect that the orator is certainly being truthful in what he or she is saying.

I was fascinated by how the term “mumbo jumbo” got into English, realising it must indeed have come somewhere from Swahili. Both “Jambo” and “Mambo” are terms of greeting in Swahili, with the latter being the more informal. Eventually I think I have worked it out: I can only assume that the Colonials, being greeted, but not knowing what was being said to them, adopted the term to denote stuff they couldn’t understand …

Pole sana! (I am very sorry for you)

In case you’re interested, a typical start-up conversation in Swahili will go as follows:

“Mambo?” (an informal greeting that, formally, means “what’s news?” but is used as in “Howzit?”)

Your reply might be:

“Poa!” or “poa sana!” or even “poa-poa sana!” (if you are feeling exceptional)

Alternatively, you might reply that you are “not bad”:

“Si mbaye”

Or “bad”:

“mbaye” (although very seldom used!)

On Fridays, particularly, you will be prone to reply:

“Salaama” (at peace) or “Salaama kabisa” (entirely peaceful).

If it is good looking, as it walks away you might want to comment:

“Mrembo sana!” (you’re HOT) and then, possibly, you might add:

“Uko na matako kubwa poa sana” (your ass is huge and quite beautiful!)

(A particularly African compliment of the highest order)

The later comment might be more appropriate if “it” is female …

Needless to say, I love the language. It is quite beautiful, being infused with Arabic that gives it a softness that is quite distinct from the Zulu or Xhosa languages that derive from the same root, Bantu tongue.

The number of words in common usage that derive from Swahili is quite startling. Just three:

Safari Journey/travel
Maluumi Special person
Simba Lion (as in Simba chips)

(there are many more I have come across but can't exactly remember now!)

I have a Swahili dictionary but because I am learning more ‘street’ Swahili (‘Sheng’) from friends, a great many of the words I know are either not in the dictionary are in entirely different usage.

In the dictionary, the word “mrembo” is said to mean ‘a well-dressed person’. On the street it means “HOT” (in the personal sense - as opposed to “moto” (pronounced more-tor) which means ‘warm/hot/fire’ in a slightly less personal way).

Enough Swahili linguistic didactics.

On the weekend after SA’s general Zumalection the SA High Commission hosted a “South Meets East” concert at the Kenya National Museum grounds. The only SA artist on the bill was Lira and she was supported by two Kenyan artists, Eric Wainana and Valerie.

Eric was very good, performing a few tracks in Luo. Brenda came with me and she translated the Luo lyrics - all suitably tongue-in-cheek and infused with political innuendo. But I think Eric should probably stick to Swahili because from people I have spoken to it seems that a lot of Kenyans don’t “get” what he is saying ... The Luo double meanings tend to be understood at face value.

Valerie was OK and I would venture to say that there are a great many Kenyan acts that should rather have been on the bill.

But as for Lira … She was absolutely GREAT. She started the set with a slow, sultry jazz piece and opened her singing with the greeting:

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaammmbbbo?”

The crowd went absolutely WILD.

Her band was phenomenal and the drummer was so alive and funky he couldn’t stay in his seat. I had seen him in the gathering crowd earlier in the evening, with what looks like his brother (who plays keyboard and sax with the band). They were both dressed in Bosmont Hip-Hop Chic and memories of my friend, and fellow drummer, Ian Herman (ex Tananas, and now playing for Sting I believe), came to mind.

Lira finished her set with the award-winning “iXesha”. After she mentioned the title I was amazed to hear, all around me, Kenyans attempting the Xhosa back-of-the-tongue ‘click’ in the word (and largely failing). Kenyans REALLY LOVE the Xhosa clicking – at least some of the reason for Brenda Fassie’s popularity here.

Lira gave the song its introduction:

“iXesha means Time in Xhosa. And the title of this song really means …

Honey, baby, sweetheart, darling, honey-bunch, gorgeous ……

YOUR TIME IS UP!”

The response from the women in the crowd was nothing short of deafening and Lira had to wait a while before actually starting the song. What eventually followed was fantastic and I must admit to being just a little moved by her swaying, sassy performance (which I have on video).

At the end of the night I think Brenda was a little stunned by what she had seen. All she could say was:

“Wow, you South Africans have some GREAT performers!”

I’ll say.

I am specially fond of the old guy with the understated dance who wears the funky shirts. But I’m not so keen on the guy with the bipolar skull who is getting some kind of special place in SA society today.

Amani na mapenzi brothers and sisters.

B-)

Races and faces from various places (with apologies to Dr.Suess)

In the same way that Johannesburg is the melting pot of southern Africa, Nairobi is the melting pot for the whole East Africa region, being the most highly urbanized city in the region, and also bearing the same ingredients of plentiful crime and poverty that beset Johannesburg.

One regularly sees Somali, Ethiopian and Sudanese men and women plying their trade, or simply walking, on the streets of (particularly downtown) Nairobi. Eastleigh is the unofficial free-trade area for these people and driving in the area is fraught with duelling dusty busses that have just arrived from Mogadishu, Juba, and Addis Ababa. Somali women dressed in black are often refered to, jokingly, as "Isili" (as in 'Eastleigh')...

Ethiopian women (the younger ones) in Nairobi are sometimes seen wearing very long dreadlocks, and generalised legend has it that they are the most beautiful in this part of Africa. I can't say I always agree. There was a lone, fine-featured Ethiopian woman I saw at a club's 'Reggae Night' once. Her dreadlocks had obviously been growing since childhood and were wound around her head in a veritable ‘nest’ of hoops and swirling circles, with the occasional errant lock falling to the middle of her back. With a middle-Eastern, somewhat Judaic ‘look’, and semi-Caucasian skin tone, her hair was clearly a lot ‘softer’ than that of the Bantu-African peoples, and, in her case, had been bleached light brown by the sun.

The people of South Sudan are noticeable for their height and most are probably over six feet tall. The older men seem often to have trouble with their legs, perhaps because of this height. The Sudanese are a Nilotic people and their history runs parallel with the history of the Nile River Valley that starts at Lake Victoria. Many men from South Sudan (and much fewer women) are refugess from the fighting between the Dinka and Nuer tribes that seems to continue unabated, despite a few attempts at peace talks and mediation.

The diversity of what one sees in Nairobi covers all the above, aplenty. It is such that there is an abiding interest in who-is-who-in-the-Nairobi-zoo. Ambiguously-non-Bantu people (like, for example, a Somali woman not dressed in black) will walk past, and the comments will issue forth:

“… Somali…”
“… No, she’s Ethiopian”
“… Not tall enough to be Sudanese …”
“… No, she’s a Luo chick …”

(I jest but it's not that untrue)

One would notice Nairobi’s diversity that much more if it weren’t for the fact that so many people from neighbouring countries are not that distinct from Kenyans: On the whole this applies to the Bantu people of the region. For example, one won’t tell a Tanzanian from a Kenyan (I won’t tell, anyway) until the former starts to speak Swahili. I have noted before that it is a different Swahili, soft and lyrical. As I have noted too, the Ugandans are ‘bigger’ than the average Kenyan, and Ugandans speak Luganda, yet their ‘look’ is not that distinct that one readily sees the difference. Good looking men, on the whole.

It is among the non-Bantu people in this region that the differences are easy to see. The non-Bantu people are mainly ‘Nilotic’ in origin and in Kenya, first up are the Luo people who live (traditionally) on the ‘lake side’. They typically have the fabled ‘eyes of Cleopatra’. In Uganda, just the ‘other side’ of the lake, there are also Luo people. Initially this was surprising to me – and it was explained to me by reference to ‘travel’ - until I realized that the borders between the countries were drawn up by (largely ignorant) Colonists who saw nothing of the ethnic unity that existed across their imposed territoriality. The Luo of Kenya share exactly the same origins as the Luo of Uganda, the only difference today being that they have both undergone genetic changes as a result of their enforced association with other peoples (principally via the limitations imposed by the exigencies of cross-border travel). And in both countries, Luo surnames most often start with the letter “O”.

The Luo are known as 'proud people' and in Kenya, at least, there seems to have been very little deviation from the original genetic pool. They are particularly ‘dark’ in complexion – dark brown - but not quite the same dark colour as the ‘black’ African skin one sees in the west of the African continent. They are big people, and non-Luo women sometimes remark (slightly jealously) on the Luo women’s skin texture. Their skin is often very smooth and soft. The Nilotes of South Sudan (Nuer and Dinka tribes) are quite closely related to the Luo. The Luo, Dinka and Nuer peoples are all known as 'Lake Nilotes' as opposed to 'Plain Nilotes'.

The Plain Nilotes mainly comprise the Kalenjin, from where most of Kenya’s long-distance champions come, and the Maasai.

The Kalenjin, like the Maasai, are a 'warrior nation'. They are noted for smaller eyes and slight frame atop long, thin legs. Daniel Arap Moi, who was Kenya's president for 27 years, is Kalenjin and, at time of writing, 90-something and still very much alive.

Of course, this discussion of people in Kenya would not be complete without mentioning the Maasai. There are various ‘Maasai’ groups, all of which speak minor dialect variations of the Maa language. The Maasai are quite closely related to the Samburu and less so to the Turkana in the north of Kenya.

The Maasai of the Serengeti live on both sides of the Kenya-Tanzania border. On any day, one might find a few of them riding a bus from Arusha, Tanzania, to say, Namanga on the Kenyan side. When the bus is a little distance from the border, someone gets on to check their (usually shabby) travel papers (never a passport). When the bus stops at the border post, they don't get off but just wait for the bus to continue its ride, having already had their papers checked. The Serengeti is still their place and the drawing of arbitrary borders between Tanzania and Kenya never changed much for them.

The Samburu are often quite decorative in their dress. On special occasions (like when Moses the taxi driver came to my house for the first time), Samburu will be seen in full battle dress but also adorned with trinkets, bracelets, chains and talismans all over their person. It is exceptionally beautiful to see and it can be quite humbling to be in a Samburu’s presence.

The Maasai from the Mara seem to be more ‘down-to-earth’. They are pastoralists, famed for their drinking of blood and milk from the live cow. Some research I was exposed to recently cites the fact that the Maasai from Arusha liken the eating of vegetables to ‘being a goat’. It is not something they do with much gusto despite attempts by NGOs to counter rising malnutrition and develop a vegetable-eating habit among Maasai children.

These are bits of rural Kenya and surrounds that are seen in Nairobi. This, of course, says little of the rural Kenya that has remained the same for quite some time now. This is the Kenya that people call the ‘original Africa’… the image that comes to mind when one hears the Swahili word ‘safari’ (to travel). It is the land of lions (‘simba’ in Swahili), elephants, and plenty of giraffe. I have seen very little of this Kenya so far but we can only hope that it stays the way it is, at least until I get a chance to see it all! … Wild animals, warriors, tribes, and chieftainships.

So, what (really) is the point of all this writing? It is to say that Kenya is seriously diverse, and there’s a very high level of tolerance for other people and nations. People from all over Africa are seen regularly in Nairobi. Everyone is just getting on with life, doing their 'thing', whatever that is. Witnessing this is both illuminating and exciting (for me, anyway). The problems facing Kenya (internally) stem from an essential distrust between various of the resident people. That they have different ‘ethnic roots’ - on an 'ancient' scale - probably exacerbates the problems they experience.

It will all be okay in the end... it's all okaynow, really.

Peace and Love, Amani na Upendo, to everyone.

B-)