Korogocho slums in Nairobi. The area is sub-divided into nine zones,
each of which is dominated by people from a specific community. PHOTO |
FILE
NATION MEDIA GROUP
When Jackson Anyore’s uncle invited him
to Nairobi in 1995 to come and look for a job, the young man, who had
just completed primary school, was apprehensive.
However,
on arrival in Kawangware from Vihiga, his fears quickly melted away, as
life in the shanty-town was like an extension of the village.
Apart
from his relatives, the place was mostly populated by fellow Luhyas, so
he mostly communicated in Luhya, ate traditional Luhya foods and
attended Sunday services at the nearby Pentecostal Assemblies of God
Church.
Anyore is among the millions of Kenyans living
in low-income areas, whose lives in the cosmopolitan capital city
closely resemble that in their villages. Indeed, many low-income areas
in Nairobi are carved out into tribal villages.
NOT JUST A LOCAL TREND
Remarkably,
this trend is evident not just locally, but even abroad. In the United
States, for instance, the Abagusii, have a huge presence in cities like
Houston, Atlanta, Dallas and Cleveland.
Meanwhile,
Kikuyus predominate in Massachusetts. So it is not surprising that there
was some unease when former prime minister Raila Odinga attended a
service at St Stephens Church in Lowell, Massachusetts, during his
two-month visit to the US earlier this year.
Mr Muthui
Mwangi, a member of the church, said: “When I saw the post on Facebook
[that Raila would be attending the Sunday service], I doubted. Agwambo
at St Stephens? That, to me, was not real.”
Anthropologists
say that this tendency is not uniquely Kenyan. Besides, it is not
restricted to tribe. It is common in other countries and does not
necessarily have tribal undertones, as happens in Kenya.
In
the United Kingdom, for example, it is largely racial. Thus some areas
are predominantly black, says Dr Olungah, director of the Institute of
Anthropology and Gender Studies at the University of Nairobi. Dr Olungah
has studied urban ethnicity for several years.
He adds
that in the United States, there are China towns based on “some degree
of Chinese solidarity”. In such areas, there is high emphasis on
commerce and business, and commodity prices are slightly lower. So, the
poor, most of whom are black, also find refuge there, more because of
their social class than their racial background.
This
settlement pattern in urban areas can be explained by the fact humans
are social, and therefore, ill-equipped to live on their own. So
tribalism and ethnocentrism help keep individuals committed to the
group, even if personal relations are not that cordial.
In
Kenya, specific tribes occupy particular geographical areas, where they
speak their language and follow their culture, but it is not until they
move from their rural homes that ethnicity becomes more significant.
Most
urban settlement patterns in Kenya, and particularly among the poor,
respond to tribal identity. Anthropologists say the practice is grounded
on certain concepts.
SOLIDARITY
However,
Dr Olungah insists that it is important to understand that negative
ethnicity only occurs in urban areas, not rural ones, which are
homogenous. As a result, the place where a person settles in an urban
area depends, first on solidarity, where solidarity means who else lives
there.
In Marjorie Oludhe Macgoye’s book, Coming to Birth,
when the protagonist, Paulina, first comes to Nairobi from Kisumu, it
is at the invitation of a relative living in Makongeni Estate. This is
not accidental. Makongeni was — and still remains — highly welcoming for
a newly arrived Luo in the city.
Dr Olungah notes that
on landing in an urban area, a person will first struggle with the
bright-light theory. Such a person, the theory says, will most likely
prefer a place where he or she is socially accepted and can integrate
easily.
“That integration can only be in a place where
you have people who, first of all, identify you as one of their own and
give you the comfort and orientation of urban life,” Dr Olungah says,
adding that before you get a foothold in the new environment, you can
comfortably be around those you are familiar with.
“You
require a situation in which you feel safe, where you have safety in
numbers. And those numbers, unfortunately, are in terms of tribal
conglomeration,” he explains.
For Paulina, Makongeni,
with its predominantly Luo residents , must have been safe haven. Here,
she could feel safe and thus easily integrate.
In
other words, Paulina was going to “communicate with other individuals
effectively”, says Mr Shilabukha Khamati, a research fellow at the
Institute of Anthropology and Gender Studies, at the University of
Nairobi.
Meanwhile, Bahati Estate is predominantly
Kikuyu. Its residents, besides speaking their mother tongue, also speak a
version of sheng that borrows from the language. Some of the pubs bear
Kikuyu names, and a tour of the estate reveals that some of the older
folk farm just the way they would in their rural homes.
In
Kawangware, the constellation of Luhya sub-tribes predominate, so it is
not unusual to hear stereotypes of how the Abasamia are proud, or the
Maragoli are self-centred.
A more interesting situation
exists in Korogocho, which is sub-divided into nine zones, each
dominated by a different community. Nyayo, Ngomongo and Kisumu Ndogo are
predominantly Luo and Luhya areas; Grogon A, Grogon B, Korogocho A and B
are predominantly Kikuyu; Highridge A and Highridge B are for Cushitic
communities and the Luhya respectively.
Mary Wambui,
77, says she was among the first people to arrive in Korogocho in 1978.
She invited her kin and friends, who gradually joined her there.
Soon,
some of the Kikuyus began renting houses to Luos living in
Ngomongo. Luos occupied a section of Korogocho in such large numbers
that they nicknamed it Kisumu Ndogo.
The Luhya,
probably due to their proximity to the Luo, both geographically and
culturally, followed. Today, Kisumu Ndogo is predominantly a Luo and
Luhya zone.
The second factor that determines where a
person settles in an urban area is opportunity, according to Dr Olungah.
A combination of solidarity and opportunity explains why these tribal
grouping exist mainly among the poor.
“The nature of
the jobs they do in urban centres means they have to live close to their
workplaces, preferably within walking distance,” says Dr Olungah.
SOCIAL CLASS
Then
there is the issue of social class. The poor cannot afford to live in
posh areas such as Karen, Muthaiga, Runda, Kahawa Sukari, Westlands,
which, Dr Olungah notes, are not tribally demarcated, but inhabited by
the moneyed.
“Living in Runda, Karen, Muthaiga, is not dependent on your ethnic background, but rather, on your financial status,” he offers.
The
greatest concern among the rich is security, which has given rise to
gated communities. Olungah says they are not bothered about ethnic
solidarity because it does not offer them the comfort they find in their
social class.
He says this is true even among
communities seen to be permanently at loggerheads like the Luo and the
Kikuyu, recalling an incident a few years ago, when former Prime
Minister Raila Odinga’s son, Raila Junior, was involved in a car
accident while in the company of former president Jomo Kenyatta’s
grandson, Joseph Muhoho.
Moses Mutua, a psychology and
sociology lecturer at Moi University, says the rich have this mentality
that they can make it on their own.
“They have an ‘I’
feeling, unlike the poor’s ‘We’ feeling,” he explains, adding: “The rich
have this idea that they do not need any help, so they depend more on
economic rather than tribal solidarity.”
This “we
feeling” among the poor comes in handy in moments of distress
(bereavement, hospital bills) or celebration (marriage), mostly through
their social and welfare associations.
For instance,
Anyore now belongs to a chama. Members help one another whenever there’s
a problem. “When a member is bereaved, other members contribute Sh550
each to facilitate transportation of the body to the deceased’s
ancestral home for burial. And, should one of my children fall sick, I
can always count on members to help me settle the hospital bill,” he
offers.
Such associations, Mutua says, have been very
instrumental, and have even helped people educate their children up to
university. Some of these welfare associations have since grown into
Savings and Co-operative Credit Societies (Saccos). For instance, Luhyas
in Korogocho have Hodi-Hodi, and the Luo, Moyie. The Akamba have
Matungulu Association.
'BECOME PARANOID'
Unfortunately,
politicians have misused these tribal groupings for selfish ends by,
first, dehumanising members of other communities. “The purpose is to
play on the mental fears of the group and instil fear into their
identity,” says Khamati.
“It is at that point that
ethnicity, which is not in itself a bad thing, degenerates into
tribalism, nepotism, favouritism, and the many other isms,” says Dr
Olungah.
“If there is no process, particularly a
political process, to make me feel a Luo, I will feel excluded from the
apparatus of governance,” he adds.
“And once you feel
excluded from the apparatus of governance, you become paranoid, so you
create a “them-versus-us” mentality, in which you feel safe only among
your own,” he explains.
And this paranoia can have
far-reaching effects, as evidenced during the 2007/2008 post-election
violence, when ethnic chauvinists attacked those they viewed as enemies.
Mr
Khamati says that, because in our case ethnic communities have definite
geographic boundaries, some people have used their position in
political office to actually channel resources to certain communities
while withholding such allocation to others. “So a whole group of people
are impoverished just because of their ethnic identity,” he laments.
There
is nothing wrong with people sticking with their own. However, such
groupings become counter-productive and defeat efforts at nation
building when they are used as justification to discriminate against
people from other communities.
So, is it wrong to take pride in one’s ethnicity?
Dr
Olungah’s sums it up thus: “I am a proud Luo. I don’t want to be
anything else. It doesn’t mean that I hate anybody. That should be the
starting point. But I become a victim of circumstances when I feel that
my Luoness is like a cornerstone of my insubordination. I need, first of
all, to feel safe in this country. I need to go to school. I need job
opportunities, and I need to get every kind of opportunity, including
business opportunities. I need to exercise my entrepreneurship in an
environment that appreciates that entrepreneurship.
“I
need an environment that appreciates the loyalty of the Kamba, the
acquisitiveness of the Kikuyu, the pride of the Luo. That cocktail of
ideas will make me feel Kenyan, and will, therefore, make me feel that
in terms of ethnic diversity, we are united in that diversity.”
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