Of gods and monsters

The border crossing into Kenya said a lot about life, I had to bribe the guard in order to bypass the conventional law of things. It raised a serious moral question in me; who was corrupt? Was it the guard or myself? I hadn’t waited for the man to ask for a bribe I had simply slipped in the cash in order to speed up the process. What impressed me the most was how he extracted the money with such skill that even his colleague inches away failed to see it. It was like a magician’s slight of hand; now you see it, now you don’t. I sat on the bus and thought about my actions; I realized it takes two to tango or to be corrupt, one to bribe and one to accept it. How could I ever be indignant about corruption when I was party to it? One the hand I could have been delayed several hours missing my bus and costing me another $20 and endless heartache.

When I crossed I had expected civilization as Kenya is the most Westernized African country after South Africa. The road up to Kisumu was perfect, as smooth as butter on hot toast, we stopped in the capital of the Western Province and used one of the usually foul toilets that are a fixture in Africa, you have to hold your breath otherwise the ammonia will sting your nose and eyes. As I haggled over the price of fake mineral water (which was most likely lake water or sewerage packaged in a neat bottle) I met two dogged travelers that informed my opinions of East Africa. One was a short stubby White South African with an Amish goatee. The other was an Australian Greek called Spiros as brown as the people around him. Both were looking for opportunities in the heart of darkness.

They had traveled separately along the same route more or less, from the Congo, to Rwanda, to Uganda. They were amazed by the Congo and the utter chaos they saw. The South African had hoped to bring high-speed internet connection but found that basics such as electricity were lacking. He still had a fear of being eaten that he wasn’t able to either appease or articulate without sounding racist, so he squirmed around the topic. The Australian was a happy go lucky chap who had the misfortune of being a hypochondriac in the middle of an ebola epidemic, suddenly all the economic opportunities didn’t seem worth it. His exact words were, “I said sod this for a laugh! And left pretty sharpish.”

I was pleased to hear one thing they agreed on “The one place I liked was Rwanda, the man in charge is a serious chap. They got good order, it’s clean. That place is going somewhere. It shows what a bit of planning can do.” The Australian said as he pulled out his anti-bacterial soap to have another wash. I gave him a look that made him feel obsessive but he reassured me. “When I was in the Congo mate, some kid cut his self and the next day he was dead.” And Pilate was off for serious hand-washing. The South African waxed lyrical about his favourite place in Africa. “Cyangugu, is the most wonderful place I have seen, I almost died when I saw it. I have to die and get buried there.” The Boer had a near-religious experience there, in a place that is kind of secluded and few people in Rwanda have been there but it took a foreigner to see its true beauty. I was embarrassed by the praise he had for the country.

The road was so bumpy after Kisumu, and dusty, the trip was truly ruined. The conductor kept himself entertained by picking fights with the passengers. He was picking up passengers along the way and taking the payment for himself, therefore people were traveling for a fraction of the cost of the official ticket. When he was asked about this he went on a 2-hour tirade about the lack of respect and etiquette, as he repeatedly insulted this young lady. When I interjected to try and rescue the damsel I became the focus of his ire, I told him that he shouldn’t insult customers when he was a representative of Akamba bus but he then questioned my mothers parenting skills. I wished I had an i-pod because I was lambasted from Kisumu to Kericho, which is a fair way. The sleepy towns we saw along the way highlighted the neglect of provincial areas by the centre.

The road was going to be bad till girigil or gilgil and the dust was terrible, when we got past the road works, we had the nuisance of roadblocks set up by police to elicit bribes from traveling motorists, luckily Akamba pays protection money to the top to avoid such inconveniences. The Rift valley is an awesome geographical feature that divides and defines Kenya, it is ever-present as a depression and its ridges are always in the backdrop like a wall. We climbed it and rose into the highlands, which were colder and look like the Home Counties in England. This is what caused the Mau Mau rebellion and ultimately Kenyan independence as after WWII thousands of Kikuyu were marched off their land to make way for veterans and settlers. This resulted in the killing of white settlers and the internment in camps of almost the entire Kikuyu populace. This still has consequences today.

By the time we got to Nairobi it was dark and the city lights blazed, there were a lot more buildings but the roads were neglected and the Jam was horrendous. When I arrived I was happy to see Lucy, my host, then another jam as we went home. Lucy had just been to court for a minor traffic offence and failure to pay a bribe. Her Christianity forbade her to pay it, and it was then that I decided to never pay a bribe myself. It will make my life hard and I will suffer as a consequence but I will be rewarded in the end.

Nairobi has a one thing I like, you don’t see idiots walking around with mobile phones stuck to their ear, shouting and pretending to be important. This is because thieves would relieve you of it quicker than a flash; the government had made a point of cleaning up the city of thugs but had relented in the wake of the up-coming election. Hawkers were also back in town; this was to elicit votes as hawkers are voters. But with hawkers comes all the scum of muggers, pimps, pick-pockets, conmen and idlers. The government needed these thugs to control the population, besides there are more thieves than middle-class in Nairobi so it was a vote-winner.

In Kenya the political system is polarized between two camps, the voters vs. the political elite. These two utterly despise each other but have to tango every 5 years in elections. It doesn’t matter who you vote for, the party is irrelevant, and you will get the same. Imagine if the British voted for Cameron but he did a deal with Brown to rule, or if the Republicans did a deal with Hillary to take over. That is the situation in Kenya, the ground is fluid and all parties are out to plunder the treasury as swiftly as possible. The voter is screwed because you will get the same whatever choice he or she makes. This is because the system is not corrupt, corruption is the system. Whereas in other systems, the parties fundraise from the masses, in Kenya the masses expect bribes from the parties who will later recoup this money from corruption.

Watching the Kenyan version of Question time, I saw this first hand, the voters were disgusted with the politicians while the politicians were equally disgusted with the voters. I was impressed with the Trade minister Kituyi, a man who is as educated and articulate as he is arrogant. He was disappointed by the corruption in society “When I go to rallies, the citizens expect me to give them more money than I can afford.” Others on the panel where engrossed in the pedantic definitions of corruption. “Corruption is the systemic abuse of public funds.” No, no, no. “Corruption is the misallocation of public funds.” No, no, no “Corruption is the conscious abuse and misallocation of public funds”

The truth is that even a child knows corruption when they see it and that is the obvious. When you look at Kenya, it is a miracle because even after the Moi regime plundered $ 5 billion, the country is still fully operational. The thieves always leave just enough to keep it going. But the nation has tremendous luck to have a tourist industry that is one of the best in the world, Tea and Coffee that are the envy of the world, Flowers that save marriages all over the world, a port that is the gateway to 5 countries. It somehow ambles along. Despite one of the best educated populations, they cannot break free of the political elite.

This is the result of 40 years of KANU, it ruled with a grip of iron using tribal blocs to build its power base, now these big-men still prevail and the merry-go-round of marriages of convenience ensue. All the politician are vampires that have been bitten by the curse of corruption, they need an over-haul of the political class. The Kenyans are beginning to be wise to this and realizing their power are tax-payers, they are the most heavily taxed of all Africans but they are still bound to tribal loyalties when it comes to voting.

Majimbo is the latest buzzword gripping the nation, in Swahili it means Federalism, but others see it as regional devolution, others see it as tribalism and the definition is taxing on the brain. There is a need for fairer distribution of the national pie away from Nairobi and Kikuyuland but the question is how to do it without destroying the Union of the Nation. I await further developments.