I had my first encounter with institutional injustice almost
40 years. Two friends and I took the ferry and headed off to London for summer employment. We eventually
found jobs in kitchens and toilets of one of the city's most famous hotels in Oxford Street.
However, after three weeks, we were hauled into the
supervisor's office and interrogated over the disappearance of the hotel's
silverware the previous night. London
bobbies and private detectives spent most of the day attempting to confuse,
confront and intimidate us. We stepped out of the hotel's basement that night
determined to rebel.
We returned the next day with our letters of resignation,
and proceeded to demand our salary for the previous week's work. However, we
had naively failed to consider that injustice can also fight back. Payment was
delayed for 10 days and we spent the while walking the streets looking for
other jobs while surviving on bread and milk.
Lesson number one learnt is that injustice will always fight
back. The truth will set you free, Jesus told us. However, he omitted to say
that it will first of all make you miserable and burden you. There is a price
to be paid for taking a stand, and denial and compliance are frequently the
easier options.
These memories came back to me as I reflected on the fiasco
that was the Kiambaa funeral service. I felt angered listening to one group of
politicians give pathetic excuses for their failure to attend, and appalled by
the other side's "holier than thou" stand as they hijacked the mass burial. We
are a long way from reconciliation in this country.
State of denial
In fact, the undertones coming from the Kiambaa experience
is that we are very much in a state of denial about the post-election violence.
Denial is an unconscious defence mechanism for coping with
guilt, anxiety or other disturbing and painful emotions. We would prefer to
block out information that is unthinkable and unbearable than face up to the
demands of truth.
That is why we are witnessing such revisionist thinking about
what happened in Kiambaa, Naivasha, Nakuru and elsewhere. The latter of course
is not unconscious denial but open political denial that is cynical and
calculated.
Such denial is not confined to our borders. Between 1915-17,
one-and-a-quarter million Armenians were massacred by the Turkish army. Despite
thorough research and documentation on the same, the Turkish Government
continues to date to deny that the massacre ever occurred. Similarly, research
done among villagers living near the Auschwitz
concentration camp during the extermination of hundreds of thousands of Jews in
the Second World War showed another form of denial. Locals admitted that they
heard rumours, saw smoke coming from the furnaces but claimed they did not
really know what was going on. Is it any wonder that the Austrian and German
parliaments have passed legislation that criminalises denial of the Holocaust?
At times, we must be forced to admit and acknowledge painful truths and to
remember what we would prefer to ignore or forget.
We all know of examples of denial in our communities; the
alcoholic in denial; the woman in an abusive relationship who protects her
husband. These examples demonstrate how we choose to live a lie. That is why so
many object to opening up old wounds in Kenya claiming that the truth will
hinder reconciliation. Denial, however, may postpone the pain but cannot remove
it.
Messy stage
Still, the Kiambaa burial and memorial has definitely
sparked debate about denial, memory and reconciliation. Perhaps we are only at
the first messy stage of arguing about a hierarchy of victims. Even claiming
that "our people" suffered more than "your people" at least is an admission
that there are victims on all sides.
No single community has a monopoly on "victimhood" and every
life lost in political violence is a tragic loss to the whole country. There is
no possible justification for the killing of a single individual. Could we
begin by acknowledging this?
To admit that you and I are both hurting is a necessary
first step in a long slow process of healing. We really need to debate as a
nation about what happened after the elections and why, what have we have
learned from that experience and how we wish to memorialise it in a way that is
satisfactory to everyone.
That could be a very healthy, rigorous debate providing it
is neither initiated nor dominated by the political class. The denial,
revisionism and trivialisation of the post-election violence are very much
structured to protect political interests.
In the process, whole communities are stigmatised and
condemned to protect the interests of mtu wao. Put another way, denial benefits
the perpetrators and planners of violence but further alienates the victims. I
think that there are enough good people out there who can lead that debate and
they should initiate it long before the TJRC process begins. The truth will
indeed set us free and it is worth suffering for.
My two friends and I never regretted our decision, and
Kenyans won't either if they just begin to talk and listen to one another.
____________________
This piece was first published in the May 29th edition of The Nation. It is republished here with the author's permission.
Gabriel Dolan
About the author:
Father Gabriel Dolan is a Catholic priest, ministering to a parish in Mombasa. He has been a member of the Catholic Peace and Justice Commission
it seems easier to deny written by jaya wardene , June 02, 2009
Thank you for this piece. It is quite obvious that Kenyans of all walks of life are in complete denial about many if not all aspects of the monster called PEV. I call it a monster because there is no other way of describing the events that followed the disputed elections of 2007. Most Kenyans may have feared that there would be some level of violence in the heated frenzy of electioneering but the bloodletting and ethnic forced evictions of former neighbours and the orgy of wanton destruction was totally beyond all predictions: then ofcourse there was Kiambaa.
These were traumatic events; The mind cannot cope and it is easier to deny. The denial taking place right now is akin to that of the alcohol or drug abuser who whilst realising their steady descent down the slippery slope still find it much easier to bury their feelings in the comforts that their stupor brings. Much easier to pass out every night than to confront my daily demons...
Kenya will never be free from the dark shadows of 2007/8 until we are ready to face up to the events that took place. It will not be asy to do this whilst we still have in office serving cabinet members, parliamentarians and administration officials who are accused of taking part in the planning and financing of these murders.
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... written by mkosakabila , June 08, 2009
Thank you, Father Dolan. Despite having their credibility somewhat compromised over the elections, I think religious institutions should take leadership over the debates that you suggest. The political class is incapable. Ditto the so-called civil society, which takes its cue from the different political factions. The work of individuals is important, but that needs to be aggregated somehow.
These were traumatic events; The mind cannot cope and it is easier to deny. The denial taking place right now is akin to that of the alcohol or drug abuser who whilst realising their steady descent down the slippery slope still find it much easier to bury their feelings in the comforts that their stupor brings. Much easier to pass out every night than to confront my daily demons...
Kenya will never be free from the dark shadows of 2007/8 until we are ready to face up to the events that took place. It will not be asy to do this whilst we still have in office serving cabinet members, parliamentarians and administration officials who are accused of taking part in the planning and financing of these murders.