PHOTO | FILE Othaya MP Mary Wambui at a past press briefing. A recent
footage from Othaya showing residents scrambling for fish in an event
organised by the MP offered some timely comic relief and a break from
the din of politics that dominates the airwaves on normal days.
The footage from Othaya showing
residents scrambling for fish in midweek offered some timely comic
relief and a break from the din of politics that dominates the airwaves
on normal days.
The predominant reaction was: How could
this happen in Nyeri, supposedly one of the richest counties in the
country and in the constituency which has been represented for decades
by former President Mwai Kibaki?
The fact that those questions were being asked shows how strongly the country’s politics is shaped by popular myths.
There
is no “rich” or “poor” community in Kenya. There are only rich
individuals and sometimes families who take different paths to wealth.
It is an obvious point, but it bears repeating. There are no entire ethnic groups that benefit from the presidency.
The
low-hanging fruits of power, such as lucrative tenders and
opportunities to act as go-betweens for investors, go not to the
wananchi in Gatundu or Baringo but to a narrow slice of elites allied to
those in power.
The scramble for fish in Othaya,
including the sight of men in suits stuffing raw fish in their pockets,
was a dramatic civics lesson that should go some way towards
challenging the stereotypes that inform politics in Kenya.
Of course, it is not easy to debunk myths because they are sometimes very strongly held.
At
a conference in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia a few years ago a waitress told
me she had heard that when civil servants leave work at 5 pm in Kenya,
they are given five vouchers so that they can have a couple of beers
before proceeding home.
I asked who had told her that. She said the tale was narrated by an Ethiopian who had worked for a few months in Nairobi.
Public
sector wages are much lower in Ethiopia than in Kenya. And to answer
the puzzle of where Kenyans possibly found the money to guzzle huge
quantities of beer every day, the guy had concocted that story which the
lady earnestly believed.
In Kenya, the myth of boundless Kikuyu prosperity is one of the dominant features of the political
scene.
scene.
SIMILAR FATE
The
problem is that no attempt is made to distinguish between the benefits
the elite draw from power and the general fate of the ordinary mwananchi
who is in exactly the same situation as another peasant in any other
part of the country.
This reality was brought home to
me one time when I was sent to Lamu to cover a dispute between an
Australian oil firm and local community leaders.
The
community leaders had genuine grievances about environmental concerns
and the possible disruption of fishing routes, which I reported.
On
the other hand, the Australian company credibly countered that a demand
for more jobs in the firm that was conducting deep-sea drilling could
not be met because there were few Kenyans, let alone, residents of Lamu,
who had the training to take part in the exercise.
The
memory that stuck with me, though, was when one community elder pulled
me and the photographer aside and said that the real story was that the
Australians had already struck oil.
What they were
doing was constructing an underground pipeline so that the oil would end
up being the property of “watu wa bara kule Central”
Of
course, these may have been the wild musings of one old man. But they
spoke of a deeper myth which informs Kenyan political behaviour: That
when a member of a community clinches the presidency, the whole ethnic
group will benefit. This is the logic that drives voters from,
especially, the big five ethnic communities to vote almost to the last
man for “one of their own”.
It is the thinking that
informs the fact that no member of smaller communities from the Coast,
North- Eastern or the smaller pastoral communities can mount a credible
challenge for the presidency.
If wananchi could shake
off this logic and unite across ethnic lines, they would be in a better
position to press the elites to offer cleaner and more effective
government.
With the masses disunited, the politicians can happily continue to divide and rule.
The Othaya fish scramble was a powerful reminder of the folly of ethnically driven politics.
The
writer, an editor with the Sunday Nation, is a Chevening Scholar at the
London School of Economics. mmutiga@ke.nationmedia.com
No comments :
Post a Comment