Absorbing Teachers into County Workforce is a Crime Against the Poor!

“You know what? Before we start blaming outside forces, we must first look inwards and excommunicate the demons within...” Those are the sweet words from my late father, Mzee Lemukol Ng'asike Snr.

Now, let’s come closer home and put this thing called illiteracy into perspective. Is education failure in places like Turkana County as a result of some invisible satanic spirits, national government laxity or just a case of a non-interventionist approach from people we blindly call sons and daughters of the soil?

As much as we apportion blame to national authorities, I believe their local counterparts have serious questions to answer. 

I have moved around Turkana – to its deepest and remotest corners. Seeing children populating kraals during school days despite the presence of a school just across the road demystifies that old notion that children in pastoral lands don't attend classes due to lack of schools. There is something big. An ailment that is geared towards crippling the poor from the source. To lock their minds. To disempower them by building schools and “poaching” the few teachers sent by the Teachers Service Commission to teach them.

Listening to parents urging me not to condemn their children for being at home brought me to a new level. That of scanning public decisions no matter how good they may appear. These people told me that though inexistent school infrastructure could be an issue in other places, their major setback is lack of teachers. That “even the few that were initially posted there were taken by the county government”. I have heard this narrative not just in a single village. It is everywhere.

Which reignited my usual question: in whose side is the county government?  

This is purely a question of interests vis-a-vis politicians, teachers seeking “greener pastures”, society and the vulnerable – particularly the poor and their children. The hierarchical placement of each of these interests shows where exactly the weight lies and how far it will take to change things in favour of the pastoral child.

Let’s unpack this conundrum.

The politician wants to appear benevolent by hiring all professionals. He, undoubtedly, hinges not on the needs of the wider society. It is common knowledge. He is in it to win goals for his side. It is an open political market, you know.

The teacher, like any other creature, has his stomach as the benchmark for his decisions. He wants a full pocket. For your information teachers have created a niche for themselves as major village political mobilisers. Get this from me: in those places I have visited, the teacher is everything. He is a consultant, a mobile library and a trustee on anything public. Good attributes but deployed in poisoned grounds.

The society banks on both the politician and the teacher for support – mental and material. Its vulnerability has, however, elevated its risk status. It may complain and even point out all the problems afflicting it, but it is handicapped. It can't move far. It cries but acts not.

And so, if the society is handicapped, how then should we expect it to curtail the afflictions facing the children? That is where we must come in.

 

Well, there is this thing people call qualifications and the need to offer “any person” a chance to move to a “higher office” so long as he/she is qualified. Then there is this other aspect that remains at the periphery of this exodus. It touches on the impact moving to “higher offices” brings to the society. 

Though many people have argued that teachers have what it takes to be part of this “economic nomadism”, I still hold the view that this argument is hollow and suppresses the voices of the primary beneficiaries of the teaching profession – the children. I agree with people who say devolution has contributed in killing the education sector in the so called marginalised zones.

Then we come to what informs leadership. Should public decisions be informed by the urgency to elevate individual interests at the expense of public needs? Where is honesty in our preachings about promoting education among pastoralists?

Yes, teachers can serve in other capacities but we must agree that their initial postings play a central role in community development.

If the county government won't function minus teachers, then it should be ready to pay the price for its actions. Let it hire double the number of teachers it poached and facilitate their stay in those teacher-less schools. These new teachers should be made to feel that they are the pillars of the society.

By admitting that our people are poor and need special support, this county bureaucracy admits it’s guilty of a crime against the poor. It must reinvent its policies in support of interests of children so as to offload this guilty verdict.

Lemukol Ng’asike is an architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com . Twitter: @mlemukol. 

Pastoralists Land Rights Not Subject to Forced Sedentarisation

With dynamics like urbanization, mineral exploration, emphasis on legal documentation to prove private land ownership, adoption of other economic practices to supplement the diminishing economic power of pastoralism, and of course the power play surrounding the politics of land ownership in Kenya, the debate on whether pastoralists land rights really exist keeps on knocking on our doors.

Tied to this nebulous debate is another tricky concept that may prove to be a blow against pastoralists rights, and in particular the protection of their land. The thing seeks to introduce this requirement that “real” ownership of pastoral land should stem from “permanent residency”.

When distilled further, this requirement simply says for pastoralists land rights to exist, pastoralists must shun nomadism and adopt a sedentary lifestyle – a clear case of cultural substitution propagated as the “perfect way” to secure pastoralists land rights.

I think I know why such ideas have gained prominence. The definition of “real” ownership of land with regards to pastoralists’ lands remains a hidden subject only known to a few people – mostly government bureaucrats and politicians. The motivation behind this cover-up is equally not known to many. But this won't block some of us from poking holes on this skewed thinking.

One, what informs a person’s “permanent residency”? Is it owning a piece of land in say, a town? What about that herder who for the last forty years has been transiting between say, point A and B in search of pasture and water for his livestock? Should we rule out his demands for recognition as a land owner on the basis of him having no well-defined piece of land?

Concerning the existential threats emanating from mineral exploration, why should this particular herder remain optimistic that his views will be sought when land ownership is subject to possession of papers? Could this be a technical move to lock out those believed to be ignorant from profiting from mineral wealth? How can this lost optimism be regained?

Two, if paper ownership is that important to effect pastoral land ownership, does this translate to forced sedentarisation? What informs this belief that nomads are inferior to sedentarised folks? Could it be an advancement of that old narrative that banks on packing people into permanent settlements so as to administratively control them? Must governance be tied to sedentarisation? Does this mean that nomads have never invented their own governance systems that can be adopted by the state?

I can spot the demons who propagate this anti-pastoralists’ narrative. The first is the Kenyan state. It is guilty in many respects. First, it has refused – knowingly – to ask itself the question: “who is a pastoralist?” And by doing so, it has never and it will never know what pastoralism entails. As a result of having not this crucial knowledge, it will never create policies and all other legal instruments that will protect and advance pastoralists land rights. Call it a case of well-crafted sabotage.

The second demon is the county government – that mini-state that is legally mandated to stand with pastoralists. Should it surprise all of us that county governments where pastoralists control significant demographic majorities have taken a back seat on matters pastoral lands? Like the Kenyan state, these mini-states seem to understand one thing: That time to give pastoralists land rights the front space is yet to come. I fail to understand what informs their timing. It is definitely not the citizens’ grievances.

Some farcical propulsion of pastoralists land rights only materialize when the political class smells the presence of oil companies prospecting for oil in pastoral lands. Proactive defense of these rights are totally absent. Ironically, these are the same people we see as saviors!

But this state of hopelessness won’t last forever. Today’s pastoralist is not the same as that clogged-minded pastoralist of the past. The present one knows his rights. He knows who are the barriers towards full realization of these rights, and he hesitates not to explore other options to protect his rights.

The point still remains solid: Securing pastoralists land rights can never, and should never be tied to forced sedentarization. Any move to forcefully effect this skewed concept will be resisted. And so this is what I have to tell those who cling on this shaky perspective: Go try your luck in another planet, not among the pastoralists.

Lemukol Ng’asike is an architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com . Twitter: @mlemukol. 

Redeeming Turkana? First School Those Few Schooled Turkanas

For the past few weeks I have had an opportunity to move into the remote corners of Turkana County, and to interact with the populations found there. Apart from the usual observations about lack of this and this, there was clear evidence – (at least from the actions, talks and thoughts of these people) – that they are wiser than those we traditionally consider to be learned, informed and with that golden chance of residing around towns – places believed to be sources of information, power and government largess.

This observation was a case in point about mischaracterization of people living in kraals, and with little or no formal education to brag about. It also brought to the fore the role of the schooled members of a society in development. But above all, this tour left in me a solid mark which recreated the question on whether Turkana can be redeemed, and if yes, by who.

Within this question comes another point which I think should guide our thinking about redeeming Turkana. The point is: where should this Turkana redemption start from? Top, down or from both ends?

There is a big reason why I choose to entertain this matter. And it all revolves around Turkana development history, and why this history must be rewritten in favour of the people for something tangible to be felt across the board. By the way, I do not blindly buy this idea that Turkana redemption has come with devolution. No, Turkana redemption will only materialize when people, not offices, matter.

Let's first remind ourselves of some ignored facts. Turkana is poor yes, but its resource basket is NOT empty. It is full. The so called 'influential' sons and daughters of the soil are principally hollow and have no plan for the masses.

For your information, my encounters with members of these far-flung kraals have revealed to me that influence, according to them, is never about wealth. It is about being schooled. Though uneducated, they value education to the core. They know there is something juicy in this thing called school, and that is why they won't, and can't allow anyone to dilute it.

But therein lies the real problem. Their love for education has been used against them. Their absolute respect for the schooled has been turned against them. Their understanding of progress as having roots in education has been deployed not to further their collective interests but to bolster individual prospects.

This cancer survives in different forms. The first and the most deadly one is based on the notion that 'development ideas' must always emanate from 'professionals'. In short, a collaborative framework that must link the masses and these professionals is of no use. The people are only but recipients of these 'development ideas', their voices notwithstanding.

Then there is this poisonous philosophy that is evident in almost all NGOs operating in Turkana. The local population has been led to believe that 'to be helped means not to question the helpers'. This is what I mean: my people in kraals tell me that the 'free health services, education, food, money et al' belongs not to them but to those who use their names to source for the aid. They tell me this is what they have been told, and that which they believe is true.

What is absent in these exchanges is the very undisputable fact that this 'aid' appears only because those to be helped exist somewhere.

Which takes us to another level: why are these aid recipients sidelined when it comes to questioning the inadequacies of those purporting to help them? I smell something fishy here. The few schooled guys over there have their own mission. They see a robust social mass as an enemy. And this is why they find it 'anti-development' to inform the people that those NGO billions are there because someone used their names to source for them.

So, why should I be optimistic that things will be positive when this same reasoning has found its way into the Turkana County Government?

Now, back to Turkana redemption. I still hold the view that schooled Turkanas have no 'inherent right' to be respected and to be praised by the unschooled majority out there. I reject this practice that villagers should salute me every morning just because I happened to have gone to school. Respect, like good health, must accrue from many years of sacrifice. I must prove that I deserve to be respected!

This is not to generally condemn all schooled folks in Turkana. I know there are those few who stick to what is right. But there is that huge crowd that must be redeemed first. They are the ones blocking Turkana redemption from materializing.

Lemukol Ng’asike is an architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com . Twitter: @mlemukol.

Turkana cultural fete a perfect development foundation

Turkana dancers. Photo courtesy @ North Link Productions

It is a matter of fact that culture and people are one, and that for progress to get the right footing it must be mixed with elements of culture. That is, the said progress must appeal to the social makeup of the people. Another fact: progress and peace go hand in hand. Put another way, until peace becomes acceptable to the people, and stability is felt by everybody, any move to develop them will go nowhere. Hence the question: how can development agencies – governments included – invest in communities when peace remains a mirage?

What is my point? The just ended third edition of the annual Turkana cultural fete, dubbed Tobong'u Lore (Come Back Home) which was held in Lodwar has resurrected that old debate on whether culture – specifically African culture – merits to be listed as a useful resource which can be used to economically uplift our people.

There exists two sides. One for, and another against. There is this loud group that thinks that any investment in promoting culture is akin to misusing public wealth. Their reasoning is one-sided and built on one factor. Budgets. They assert that allocating millions of shillings in organizing an annual event like Tobong'u Lore is wrong because such allocations should have been directed to other “noble” projects like drilling boreholes and building schools.

They are wholly wrong and intellectually weak. I do not underrate issues like water scarcity but I know why this route sells to those with ulterior motives. One reason. Easy money involves little mental gymnastics. And politicians who rubbish public interests will definitely adopt it. This is why a certain section of Turkana politicos found it easy to badmouth a cultural fete of their own people – their principle employers!

A critical question pops up: where will an overloaded government like Turkana County Government get those billions of shillings to supply water to the people, build schools, expand healthcare services and so on, if its leaders won't think outside the box? Will budgetary portions from the national government be sufficient to bridge the development gap that has crippled this county for ages?

Perhaps they need light to see the import of Tobong'u Lore. The Kingdom of Morocco is, in terms of natural endowments, no better than Kenya. In fact, Kenya is a world on its own. It has mountains, deserts, wildlife, beautiful cultures, hardworking people... but it economically performs no better than Morocco. Morocco is running. Kenya is walking. Reason being? Morocco knew – long time ago – that cultural tourism yields huge returns. And this is why Mawazine Festival, Morocco's annual cultural bonanza has won its place internationally; pouring in billions of dollars, creating millions of jobs and building an economic edifice that isn't dependent on weather patterns or poachers' mercies.

Another solid reason: the historical context that led to the creation of Tobong'u Lore can never be wished away. Ethnographers rightly claim that while the Turkana, Karamojong, Toposas, Jie, Teso and Nyangatom ethnic groups live separately and independent of each other, at their core rests a deep connection. They belong to the Ateker family. They exhibit commonness that go beyond languages and dress codes. They are one. They are victims of those colonial boundaries that ignored their natural and unbreakable bond.

Ironically, these peoples (with the exception of the Teso) have been fighting – a war that has for long been reduced to a contest for cows and goats. Families have been wiped out. Schools have been closed. Roads rendered impassable. Poverty reigning supreme. And communities adopting slave-like life to survive. Hence the questions: How can these peoples be brought together if not by appealing to their cultural commonness? Could opponents of such initiatives be profiting from the disintegration of these people?

Political opportunism is a sin against God and His people. Political opportunism masks people’s eyes from seeing far. It cripples their minds from thinking big. Political opportunism is anti-progress. It is a child of intellectual hollowness. And this is why I find opponents of Tobong’u Lore a sinful lot that should be thrown away.

Long live our people’s culture!

Lemukol Ng’asike is an Architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com . Twitter: @mlemukol

Turkana's economy can't be built on contracts alone

I have always thought that to infiltrate the mind of a pastoralist with a view to introducing therein other profitable economic ventures is the hardest challenge pro-empowerment champions face. With time, and more so with County Governments in place, I have come to realize that my earlier judgment was wrongly placed, and that, the real obstacle rests not in active pastoralists but in the hearts, minds and spirits of those who abandoned pastoralism – those people occupying public offices, in business or in high-paying NGO bodies.

                                                         

Let's take Turkana County as our specimen. For everyone but the classes of persons I have mentioned above, the economy of Turkana is broken, premised on sandy foundation and in need of renewal – serious renewal.

This is why. One thing: The fallacy that doing business with the Turkana County Government spreads benefits across all social classes in the county must be ventilated. For without this step, our empowerment evangelism won't go far.

There is something horribly unpleasant when county government contracts become the bedrock of the economy. That it is normal to have lobbyists and political go-betweens cashing in for ensuring that contracts go to their sponsors, then you get to know that the connection between poverty economy and political domination is alive. And majority of innocent Turkana people are victims of this dominance.

These points don't just highlight the issues of inequality and the diminishing influence of the citizens. They bring to the fore the reasons with which to attack the very heart of this poverty business. They also indicate the birthplace of county elitist mindsets and how they shape political thinking and control of the masses at the grassroots.

Besides, they push us to ask questions such as: Why should ordinary persons permanently close their businesses in favour of county government contracts if they aren't assured that they will secure them? What materializes this kind of hope? What impact does this kind of engagement bring to the quality of works or services rendered by the said persons? And crucially, how do we assess that public largess isn't reduced to private wealth to be doled out to those deemed to be in the "correct books"?

The story goes that in Lodwar town, to be a millionaire (at least by meeting local standards) one must "work" with county government. And to know who "works" with the county government, take a look at their private projects and the duration in which it took to bring them up.

Of greater scrutiny here is how this contract thing will kill democracy. It is common knowledge that political freedom backed not by economic growth is a farce – a deadly one. For real pro-people democracy finds it fit to demolish any thoughts that give rise to groupings whose interest is to accumulate power and economic dominance so as to pursue the interests of the plutocracy.

Turkana County is no different from this. It is crystal clear that poverty in connection with political generosity have dominated rulers-wananchi dialogue in this part of the world. Now the question is, how worse will this be if this contract thing takes root? Will the populace be liberated from the control of pro-poverty honchos?

Again, won't banking on contracts as the only means of subsistence create a conditioned class of citizens who will rather ignore the faults of their leaders so as to not jeopardize their chances of getting contracts? Aren't we already on the path of this self-backed destruction?

My message to all those who love Turkana and its humongous mass of poor, ill-informed people: Turkana's economy can't be built on contracts alone. We must get it right from now henceforth.

Lemukol Ng'asike is an Architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com. Twitter: @mlemukol.

Lodwar town is symbolic of only-for-the-rich urbanisation

What devolution has done to promote urban growth is good. However, for emerging towns like Lodwar a new breed of thoughts and actions remain the only way possible to ensure that this devolution-induced urban growth isn't a replica of the same errors that have rendered urban areas a preserve of the moneyed. 

One of these errors revolves around the real meaning of urban growth. For the case of Lodwar, growth (which is actually taken to mean urbanisation) is represented by how parcels of land along roads, rivers or other strategic positions are privately developed. One may be excused to believe that these listed points reflect the potential of the town hence necessitating the current high-powered scramble for land.

Yes, this may be the case. But there is also another scenario that I think will be worth examining. What is important here is not the fact that people are crowding in certain places that are perceived to be the economic mainstays of our towns. It is why authorities do not see it fit to open up all corners of our towns. 

I refuse to believe that revenue shortfall has hampered urban policy implementation. Quite a number of solid reasons exist. One is official laziness. This flows from the very thinking that officials need not “interrupt” what the public believes is good even when studies or other credible evidence prove otherwise. A case in point is when people build haphazardly despite the fact that building standards are well documented. In other cases, officials employ a wait-and-see mentality. They intervene only when a member of the society walks to their offices.

The resultant effect is that town planning is reduced to a product of individual demands with the main objective being to ensure that any official step rhymes with what particular members of the public want to achieve. Not what furthers the interests of the public. Not what is spelt out in law or other government regulations. Of course this is the reason why even footpaths (corridors) are a rarity in Lodwar.

Again, it is becoming difficult to separate town planning from town building. The few encounters I have had with the public and Lodwar officialdom have brought me to the confusion that is Lodwar urbanisation. People, especially the influential, have this thinking that separating themselves from this other mass of inhabitants insulates them from the inefficiencies that have crippled Lodwar town.  

The general public too is of the view that structures popping up around town contribute to that pool of qualifications that Lodwar needs to be graded as a growing urban center.

Now, this is what is happening. Poor people occupying places that are deemed to be “prime” are easily convinced that disposing off their lands and thereafter relocating to the peripheries of the town will cushion them from the “ridicule” of owning a manyatta in a “modern” walled neighbourhood.

Though these transactions may sound voluntary, their repercussions make it important to regulate them. Lodwar town is trying to give life to this theory that slums are not always a result of land scarcity but self-induced greed powered by ignorance and government's stand-and-watch sort of interventions. 

Hence begging the questions: Why is planning of this town not prioritised to save it from being a hub of slums and social inequality? If poor people have voluntarily decided to sell their prime plots in order to move to the peripheries of the town, why not follow them with the basics like water, schools and security? 

Finally, urban growth is not always about tall buildings and beautiful roads. It is also about clean air and presence of public parks. Lodwar has no clean air because its natural environment is under threat from a few land-thirsty people. The Turkana County Government must protect and develop these public spaces for the safety of all.

Lemukol Ng'asike is an architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com. Twitter: @mlemukol.

Formula to educate nomads totally defective!

There is one issue here that needs urgent attention if justice is to be served to those we purport to serve. It is a matter that remains popular but suppressed at the same time. Its popularity informs the non-inclusive response it has attracted from the many actors – appointed and self-appointed – who claim to be on a mission to effect social change. Actually, it is this so-called change that should be questioned, and if possible, its initiators subjected to a disciplinary process for failing to grasp a simple formula. That is, ensuring the change touches all: young, old, females, males, urban dwellers as wells as villagers, nomadic and settled persons.

This is how. The issue here hinges on how education enthusiasts have reached out to Kenyan nomadic communities and the resultant effect of their preachings; the hollowness of such preachings and why a quick search for answers is needed.

We all agree that education is the cornerstone of any social development, and that educating children is akin to insuring the society against future challenges. Another point, and which I think is the source of my frustration is this: we can't just base ourselves on this minimalist interpretation to lock out present needs. Insuring societies must also incorporate solving today's demands.

The central question here is: how will this be effected?

I have solid reasons to back this point. It is common knowledge that Kenyan nomadic communities are late beneficiaries of formal education. Two reasons pop up. One, the colonizer and the white evangelist, the two prominent faces that imported formal schooling to colonial Kenya saw no need to move up north. Two, post-independence governments reluctantly embraced northern Kenya and its people hence building schools in the region, not as a policy move to eradicate illiteracy but as a veiled attempt to express government's generosity.

The result is alive and visible. A huge proportion of the older generation can neither read nor write. Meaning they are completely locked out of daily socio-economic engagement. Besides, their survival depends on generosity of others and the State. This is why relief food is inherently the region's savior.

Which provokes another question. Why should this merit our attention when we have a younger generation to deal with?

The answer is simple and clear. Times have changed and our creativity must also evolve. I will explain.

In a number of years nomadism as a mode of subsistence will be no more. The disturbing question here is what will replace nomadism and how will former nomads respond to these changes? In places like Turkana, this change is no longer a myth. That oil thing you associate Turkana County with has brought with it irreversible changes that must push us to rethink our development strategies.

And here is my modest proposal. For development to win the hearts of these people, culture must play a prominent role. I know taking that route might prove vague. But here is the point. A look into cultures of nomadic peoples shows a depository of undercapitalized wealth. Their willingness to embrace change has also not been acted upon to their benefit.

Put those stereotypes you hear about nomads aside. Nomads have skills, and these skills are needed to power that sedentary lifestyle you consider "modern and superior".

That a people can crisscross hot, barren terrains for eons and still survive to tell their stories says something incredible about their smartness. It is this smartness that must accompany any move to spread education in their milieus.

Think of setting up integrated cultural and skills centers at strategic corners of their territory. I am opposed to this eliminate-and-replace kind of thinking that education evangelists tend to adopt when they venture into nomads’ lands. It is built on that unfounded belief that "only" what is modern is better and that any other thing must take a second position.

The road to inclusive development must be paved with consciousness and respect of local wealth. Upgrade the formula to educate nomads!

Twitter: @mlemukol 

Morocco’s Open-Border System Redefined Pan-Africanism

There is no doubt that the sweet stories we hear from our leaders, business people, and even the peasantry about integration and collective progress can be described as the formidable cornerstone of our engagement as members of an enlightened and a more privileged generation. Again, it is worth noting that Africa’s quest “to remain one” has been there, talked about by everybody, endlessly publicized, and conceptualized in the form of government programs since the 1960s.

The question, I think, has always been how to materialize these lofty concepts and to ensure that even the majority underclass pockets something.

In short, this togetherness chorus has hardly valued the support of the majority out there in the field. Until Morocco came in, the chorus has been about that clique that conferences every day, and far from the fields.

My reflections on the aforementioned concepts have been prompted by my seven year stay in Morocco and the observations I have made in the course of my learning tour.

That the Kingdom of Morocco should be ranked as a champion in advancing Pan-Africanist ideals despite it being a non-member of the African Union could well explain why equating integration to formation of hollow continental or regional unions or organizations, as opposed to banking on tangible people-centered results equals accepting defeat from the onset.

Through its Moroccan Agency for International Cooperation, established in 1986, Morocco has trained millions of students and professionals from across Africa and the Arab world. Currently, the population of foreign students in the Kingdom stands at about 40,000. For the past three years, the Agency has sought to spread its reach beyond Africa by inviting students from as far as the Caribbean Islands. As I write this, Rabat, the Kingdom’s capital city, hosts as many as 70 nationalities – all holed in one corner and sharing experiences.

The socio-economic impact of these souls on the local population is visible and felt by all.

Why and where does Morocco get the resources to implement this unprecedented move? My observation is informed by the choice of Morocco’s engagement. Morocco’s action falls, in my opinion, within that largely ignored perspective vis-a-vis rural development and city-based bureaucrats.

While many development enthusiasts may be of the view that development is anchored on thinking and putting in place solid plans, the rural chaps on their side major not on thoughts but action. What preoccupies these development-thirsty people is purely based on questions like: “what have you done for us?” or “can we see what you have brought to our hamlet?”

Meaning development and integration walk together and that integration takes root when development is felt by the majority. That is, the guys on the field and streets and not the few thinkers in well-furnished office blocks.

Now back to Morocco versus Africa’s integration efforts. Morocco comes top for one reason. It avoided the allure of big political statements and shiny conference halls and focused on what the African people wanted most – education. Talk to any foreign student in Morocco and you will note that Pan-Africanism would have grown had its initiators pointed out the continent’s missing link and provided lasting solutions.

To this date we still pontificate about how Africa’s founding fathers had great ideas; how progressive they were; how united they were in defending and advancing Africa’s and African interests. However, we fail to ask ourselves why these ideals failed to trickle down to the peasantry. 

Could it be that we know the outcome of entertaining such questions and the socio-political obligations attached thereto or we suffer from self-inflicted ignorance?

It is clear, Pan-Africanism of the 1960s was built around national political leaders. Theirs was a club of big men. The population was just but a bunch of helpless singing spectators. Morocco rightly diagnosed this anti-peasantry thing and came up with an appropriate answer. Education. Scholarships. Training. Not political conferences. Not luncheons devoid of substance. That is Pan-Africanism redefined!

Which brings me to my last point: does it matter to our continental and national thinkers that the concept of integration is a responsibility of all, and that leaders are just but initiators of the process?

The answer rests with us – the collectives.

Twitter: @mlemukol

Oil Revenue Sharing Bill Hides the Truth

@ Dennis Morton 2016.

Nothing is much easier for a politician than to capitalize on an enthusiastic public by painting an image of a rosy future even when context and hard facts dictate otherwise.

A cursory look at the so-called resource-rich countries gives us a rather tasteless hope built on politically-powered rhetoric. In this talking game, there is a well-built belief that there is instant wealth in natural resources, and that populations in regions with mineral deposits need not move past “asking for their share of resource dollars from companies and national governments.”

The message hidden in such loaded statements is that opportunities, business ventures, knowledge transfer programs et al that often accompany natural resources exploration and exploitation activities are none of (local) communities’ business. In short, community members should just ‘sleep’ because resource dollars will flow to them.

Unfortunately, this shaky thinking has taken control of Kenyans, and in particular, people in Turkana County.

The other day the National Assembly rubber-stamped an oil revenue sharing bill outlining the percentages that local communities, county governments and the national treasury shall pocket should oil revenues start flowing. While the import of the proposed law seems to be clear, the message reaching people in the hamlets of Turkana is vague and escapist. Its proponents have only been bandying about percentages as though oil cash would be splashed to people on the basis of their closeness to oil wells.

I'm afraid these leaders are blind to the fact that the foundation of collective development is hinged on outlining what touches all and how that can be turned around to create wealth for all. They seem to cling on the gullibility of the people to reason beyond those percentages to mask their own inability to think beyond this distributionist mentality.

It is a dangerous move. Dangerous because it shifts away the cause of entrenched poverty in places like Turkana from leaders’ inefficiencies to resource scarcity.

Coming a few months to national elections, this oil law is a clever gimmick meant to hoodwink pastoralists that there is future in extractives even when a whooping eighty percent of them can neither read nor write!

This oil thing is likely to push the focus away from the need to examine the impact on social development brought by the sedentarization – forced and voluntary – of nomads.

That many towns neighboring oil blocks have grown both in size and in population is a fact. The often ignored question is; where did these new entrants fuelling growth in those oil towns come from?

A majority of these new urbanites are former nomads who trooped to towns either, as a result of that useless belief that oil money is found there, or because nomadism is no longer a viable mode of subsistence.

The suppressed truth, however, is that these former nomads are ill prepared for town life. They simply have no skills to enable them pick new means of subsistence. As a result, they end up swimming in an already overflowing sea of poor urbanites.

Instead of telling the world how this issue will be straightened, all we hear from crusaders of oil dollars’ sharing formula is an indifferent appeal that only serves to introduce a social order split along class lines.

No one is talking about how skills can be drilled into the heads of these new town entrants. No one is ready to move away from the comfort of “dialogues and negotiations” to meeting the people that form the bedrock of the existence of such forums. No politico is willing to lead a crusade of public enlightenment. 

Now that this oil thing has become a national element and virtually everybody is talking about “modernizing” pastoralists neighboring oil wells, it is still largely ignored that modern practices do not just attach themselves on the skins of the people. They must be built into their systems by first respecting the people (in this case, pastoralists), and then ensuring that that respect is translated into tangible enlightenment initiatives. Not simplistic futurism.

A chain of training/skills centers targeting the majority illiterate would definitely have taken the lead if this yet-to-be-adopted enlightenment campaign had materialized.

That is what I expected the oil dollars’ preachers to say – not bellowing vague percentages to a desperate population.

Twitter: @mlemukol.

Yes, Sack All Except Hon. Joyce A. Emanikor!

Turkana County MPs

It is not part of me to write about personalities – especially those donning political colours. Whenever I shout out their names, it is for a reason. Either they have slipped off the way, and their action, whether collectively or individually, is likely to, or has actually caused pain to the public, or they have danced in such a manner that rhymes with public demands – of course, coupled with the exigencies of law and conscience.  

For we are reminded that democracy is neutered the moment we reduce it to an event – elections. In other words, it takes a continuous evaluation (and sometimes stoning, quite literally) of (elected) leaders by the public for democracy to take root. It is under this banner that I place my mission vis-à-vis the political decisions that are likely to come out of next year’s general elections.

Above this, there is a fundamental development happening in our midst that must be brought to light. It touches on what some people call “forced resocialisation”. Meaning, the general socio-political re-conditioning of a society so as it reconsiders its hitherto one-sided “cultural” links.

Of great concern here is an evaluation of the successes, challenges and failures of Kenya’s womenfolk in politics. It is about how Kenya’s 2010 Constitution has reconfigured thoughts of those communities that – for eons – considered man an unchallenged ‘king’ with an ever flowing reservoir of wisdom and goodwill.

And this is where the people of Turkana come in. All physical symbols of progress aside, in this land man calls the shots. It is a historical undertaking that goes beyond the homestead. Until 2013, this thinking colonized even the political sphere. Prior to that, it would take a heart of a superhuman to convince the general populace – the literate and illiterate – that demolishing this gender barrier would actually yield fruitful returns for all.

But as they say, good news must go beyond its source for its “goodness” to be tasted by all. Anything to the contrary negates the very “goodness” of good news. In short, in this exercise of “resocialising” a people, information is the only armor you can lean on.

Well, this is the good news. Out of the eight men and woman representing Turkana County in Parliament – both at the Senate and the National Assembly – only (and I seriously mean it) Turkana Women Representative Hon. Joyce Akai Emanikor has proven her worth. The rest, despite having that pseudo-cultural backing on their side, must take time off and explain to their respective electorate why they should not be sacked next year.

It is simple. They have failed.

A good number of them seem to be on a mission to thicken their personal pockets. No, not to stand with the average voter in Turkana.

A look into their philosophical leanings tells me that they dance when hollowness rules. This is what I mean. Hollowness attracts desperation. Desperation weakens democracy. And a weakened democratic process does one thing: it rewards rulers. It protects not the citizenry.

For a leadership that went into comatose for four good years despite having a huge demand list from the public must be called by its real name: An enemy of the people.

This explains why critical pillars of people’s progress are down and no one bothers to raise a finger. It looks like this heavy lifting is the exclusive mandate of Hon Joyce.

Look, I have listened to Hon. Joyce’s contributions during parliamentary debates. She is smart. Her male colleagues have mountains to scale to reach her. That is, after they have overcome the curse of absenteeism.

Back to Turkana. What does Hon. Joyce’s performance have to do with the rest of us out there? Now unlike before, that average pastoralist woman in Turkana has a bearing to look up to in her exploits to free herself from the yoke of patriarchal bondage.

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AN OPEN note to Hon Joyce Emanikor: I’m sure you are aware that nomadism isn’t a crime in Kenya. With that in mind, I want to believe that any utterances characterizing some leaders as “outsiders”, hence “not qualified” to stand for any political seat in Turkana County amount to negating your very own roots. Let not demagoguery get hold of your brains. Respect and respect will flow back to you.

Twitter: @mlemukol