I remember reading, almost a year ago, an article by the former member of parliament for Subukia, Hon. Koigi Wamwere, that spoke of a section of Kenyans retreating to high-walled complexes in search of solace and security. The fact is, there is a rise in the number of Kenyans who grow richer by the day, but who no longer feel safe and need to move to new neighbourhoods and invest in more security; it is these to whom Koigi referred.
Taking you back, while I was still living in Nairobi, a workmate told me that I was a nobody so long as I daily drove along Jogoo road and shopped on Tom Mboya Street. As he patted my back, I was told to grow up and find an apartment in Valley Road or Kileleshwa. Talk of holding fellow Kenyans in disdain and contempt! Where you live in Nairobi speaks volumes about your status and class. For my level, it made sense to move to the West and keep off the East side. Walking in Nairobi streets, there was a constant reminder that, in the CBD itself, there's a distinctive line drawn between two Nairobi dwellers; that line is Moi Avenue . For analogy's sake, think of this as the Footscray for those in Melbourne or Albert Park if you happen to be in Durban or Harlem and Queens for my countrymen in New York. Welcome to Kenya, the land of the Haves and Have-Nots.
Ladies and gentlemen, we aren't out of the woods yet. Not yet brothers and sisters. The election violence was a precursor to something bigger: a class war looms in Kenya. Yet, if we recognize this and put in checks and balances to contain the growing class divide, we might avert it. God help us, as the government seems not to recognize this growing divide. Emptying its purse, in the form of 400,000/- allowances to people who really don't need the money, only confirms that our government is out of touch with on-ground reality. There's reason to fear - really fear - my fellow Kenyans.
The usual picture in Nairobi is that the Have- Nots live and work in Eastlands, River Road, Accra Road, old Nation House Road and neighbourhoods along those lines. Well, the Have-Nots' area is far larger than that now - it extends to Mathare, Kibera, Kawangware, Majengo, Shauri Moyo and Ruiru. Whilst the Have-Nots' periphery is growing exponentially, the Haves aren't tiring either; while in the CBD, they prefer to stick around Kenyatta Avenue, Kimathi Street, State House Road, Upper Hill, Harambee Avenue, Valley Road and their environs; residential neighbourhoods new and old fall before their onward march - Kileleshwa, Loresho, Westlands, Kiambu Road, Runda, Muthaiga, South C and Ngong Road have all seen explosive growth. This is where they speak in low tones of apartments going for KES 8M and rentals ranging between KES 50k and KES 150k. That could well be an annual income for blokes living on the other side.
Kenya is ranked among the top 10 unequal societies in the world and is the most unequal in East Africa. According to a 2004 piece of research from the Society for International Development, for every shilling a poor Kenyan makes, a rich Kenyan makes 56 shillings! What's happening in Kenya is what led to the famous anti-immigrant street battles in South Africa a few months ago. Having lived in South Africa for four years, I knew it was coming. The truth though is that the South Africans hade built their own competing empires of Haves and Have-Nots over the years; the anti-immigrant sentiments were an explosion by extremely frustrated Have-Nots. Same thing happened in France a few years ago when some French suburbs went ablaze in anger, violence and rage. Recently, a similar thing happened in Canada, in the Haitian neighbourhoods, though it wasn't given much coverage by the media.
Comrades, I am not being an alarmist here. God forbid that Kenya explodes again! Unfortunately, though, the rate at which the Haves are growing at the expense of the Have-Nots, gives cause for worry. When you still have people who can't afford to put food on their tables, we need to get worried. When we still have people walking to work because they can't afford matatu fare, there's cause for alarm. When we still have fellow Kenyans who can't afford basic health care, there's cause for panic. When we still have a section of our society that's looked down as poor, needy and wanting, ladies and gentlemen, there's reason to ponder and rethink what we need to do to contain the situation. Whereas distributing handouts is not - despite our politicians' best efforts to convince their constituents otherwise - the panacea to this growing class divide, we can do more. The latest attempt to pass a bill that would make healthcare a more affordable commodity is encouraging. Suffice it to say that we are making good inroads with free primary education - I am yet, however, to comprehend the concoction which high school boys and girls have been on lately. We need to stretch our thoughts beyond healthcare and free primary education and pay more attention to job creation. There's constant talk of creating jobs for the youth, but unfortunately I am yet to be convinced that this is really working when we still have young ones idling in streets and parks, and when we see graduates passing their time as messengers, matatu drivers and other meagre jobs.
Ladies and gentlemen, fellow countrymen, there's a looming class war in Kenya, between the Haves and Have-Nots and only time will tell what's going to spark the first exchange of fire. The battle lines are drawn and the bunkers are built. When you invest in an electric fence or employ two more watchmen, think bunker. Without being controversial, what we need is not to employ more watchmen or move to higher grounds in search of security, but rather sit back and ask ourselves, what we can do for the Haves and Have-Nots to live together in harmony and narrow the gap. Kenya's no different from Brazil, France and South Africa, in terms of this great class divide. Rather than go their route, I pray and cry in my heart that as Kenyans, brothers and sisters, irrespective of tribe, class or race, we realize and recognize that there's a looming class war and we all need to join hands and contain it before all hell breaks loose.
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Suicidal statecraft is hurting the nation
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By Imre Loefler
Arnold Toynbee, the British historian, has written about "suicidal statecraft", a process whereby a ruler or a government can destroy itself and can damage the state. Were Toynbee alive, he could use the example of President Kibaki and his government to demonstrate his point. Suicidal statecraft is usually due to incompetence and hubris.
Mr Kibaki is a nice man, probably the nicest man at the helm of any country, certainly the nicest African president. In terms of education he is among the elite of world leaders and in political experience he is also in the top ranks of the presidential and prime ministerial class. Nevertheless he appears to be an incompetent president. It is difficult to understand why his regime is such a failure and such a personal disaster. Could it be that he is simply not talented for governing? Or could it be, that the stroke he suffered in January 2003 has caused lasting incapacitation?
The presidential stroke was a setback for everyone, except the ring of people around him, who kept him out of sight for a long time and usurped his powers and established a modus operandi in which, apparently, the recovering patient acquiesced.
Cronyism and tribalism
The high ratings of Mr Kibaki were certainly not proportionate to his performance. He did not keep any of his election promises, he seemed to be unable to govern, he was unable to make his ministers to do their work, the purported economic growth benefited only the rich, he earned the attributes of cronyism and tribalism. He did not mix with people with ease and he seemed to be comfortable only among his community’s millionaires.
The apologists of presidential behaviour resorted to the time honoured excuse, they said that the President was given bad advice. To seek advice is wise, yet wisdom also recommends to choose the advisor well and to sift the advice. At the end it does not make any difference whether the bad ideas, the omissions and the blunders of Kibaki’s presidency were his own or were due to bad advice heeded by him. Taking bad advice is a form of incompetence. In addition, Kibaki’s advisors seem to be driven by hubris, the hubris of the elite, the hubris of the rich and even if he, personally, is not prone to hubris, the hubris of his advisors tainted him.
He allowed himself to be captured by the latter day Mau-Mau. The 21st century Mau-Mau did not have to endure the hardships of the Aberdares and did not have to risk their lives, neither were they poor, landless and humiliated, but their aim was the same: to establish supremacy. Instead of oaths Banana resorted to brainwash. Eventually just as the ultimate victims of the Mau-Mau were the Kikuyu, the victims of the Banana campaign were also the Kikuyu, the millions of God fearing, law abiding and hard working Kikuyu, who now find themselves isolated.
Cohesion threatened
Kibaki had his comeuppance. He took it badly, surily even and when he came on television after the referendum he tried to change the subject: shift attention from constitution to development. His short speech was strained and uninspired, he lost a unique opportunity, for if he said: "Kenyans, you told me your wishes, help me to lead you in that direction, I am proud of how you deported yourself, this is the kind of behaviour I was hoping for when I founded the Democratic Party!" Kenyans from every corner of the country would have gathered to give him another chance. Then Kibaki’s governing slipped from the bad to the worse. He does not seem to understand that the nation increasingly resents his friends and that trust in his word, not only in his judgement, is eroding fast – see the manner of bargaining for top jobs. If suicidal statecraft would hurt only Kibaki and his circle, one would say, so be it, they deserve it, but it hurts the nation, its cohesion is threatened yet again, institutions are further devalued, political morality is at its lowest point and development is postponed. Most ominous is the double oath ministers had to take: the oath of allegiance to the laws of the Republic and to Kibaki himself.
During the Banana campaign, Kibaki ignored the law and acted in contempt of court. Suppose he would do so again, which of the two parts of the oath will ministers be expected to uphold?
What undid the Mau-Mau was hubris: they underestimated the adversary and they overestimated the sympathy of the emerging nation. Then after the "change the constitution" group failed to prevent Moi from succeeding Kenyatta, their hubris cost the Kikuyu dearly. Banana was driven by hubris too, so is Kibaki’s post referendum behaviour and hubris ends in nemesis. If he is unable to change his stance, his employment must be terminated one way or other. He ought to realise that the 153 districts in the seven provinces, who said "No" to his designs did do so because of the lack of trust in him and his circles. The President’s nemesis must not become the nemesis for the nation.
The writer is a surgeon and social commentator