2017 Turkana Vote Will Crush Local “Elitist Formations”

In one of his academic exploits and writings about lives and times of major religious figures as explained in the holy books, Prof Tariq Ramadan, a man of great insight and vision, observed that “nature is the premier guide and intimate friend of faith.” While his choice of words were informed by a religious background as pertains that invisible bridge between God and humans, as political beings we can still filter some wisdom from this, especially during this electioneering period.

In Tariq’s statement I find two solid and interconnected words: nature and faith. Now, away from his religious world, lets venture into our politically charged air and see what these could mean. 

This is Turkana County and the year is 2017. Devolution is visible and people – more so those at the county’s lower extremes – have began to know what political representation means, and what it takes to actualize it. Though slowly taking shape, there is also a sense of rebellion by members of this lower cluster against what used to be regarded as their “center of knowledge” and a symbol of formal education – the elites.

Out of their frustrations – which some people seem to dismiss as empty – these members have raised poignant questions concerning the legitimacy of learning (formal schooling) and the fruits that ought to flow out of it. Just to comment on what this last line could elicit among beneficiaries of formal schooling, this write up seeks not to blindly condemn the elite. During these moments when political overtones tend to cloud everybody, questioning our norms could be of importance to us as persons and the world around us.

The other day a woman from my village, whom I respect so much because of her courage, sharpness and objectivity, asked me to explain to her why they, who weren’t privileged to go to school, should consider schooled candidates as their leaders. She went ahead to underline her resistance towards “elitist formations” that have popped up in this great county. In her view, these formations are nothing but assemblies of hungry wolves seeking to capitalize on their political connections to further disenfranchise the population. She proceeded. Elitist formations, she said, are political pressure groups populated by local “boys and girls” who went to school, are employed (some still looking for jobs), can tilt political decisions in favor of whoever they want and can buy in the financial muscle of influential business people within their neighborhoods.

Then came the shocker. In most cases, whomever these formations recommend has nothing to do with aspirations of the population.

I tend to agree with this lady. From her mouth, it is clearly coming out that rural folk believe political leadership, vision and consciousness come with formal education, and that its beneficiaries ought to exhibit these sweet qualities – every day. On the other hand, the fact that a number of these schooled guys have been trading on people’s lives is no more a secret. Village people can now solidly stand and point at the direction of their woos.

Which brings us to our question: what next; will this change of mind have a bearing on this year’s political process?

Prof Tariq’s input on the issue of nature and faith seems to reflect the outcome of that lady’s game-changing analysis. In my view what used to influence the believability of a political actor cannot comfortably fit in the present political landscape. People are now moved by track records of a person, and not the formations cheering in her support – their papers and pockets notwithstanding. Which means, nature – visible evidence about a person’s capacity to lead– is what enhances faith (political trust) in someone. The truth of the matter is the people are determined to crush the building blocks of those fruitless elitist formations.

I know this determination will worry those whose survival was anchored on stagnation of the majority. It is also very clear that many a people whose track records reflect only wrongs will be swept away and the squads behind them will be forced to reinvent their survival tactics.

The good news, however, is that there will be nothing for the population to cry for. Yes, populations can be clueless but they wont be so all the time.

     

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

How is "Post-marginalization Northern Kenya" Supposed to Look Like?

With the current humanitarian crisis hitting Kenya and the public anger accompanying it, there comes a question that perhaps will shape our new understanding of drought and northern Kenya politics. This question is informed by the setting up of county governments and the political retooling they have caused with regards to who should be blamed.

                                       

Some time back, in places like Turkana, the interaction between the political class and the public used to thrive during moments of hunger like the ones we are experiencing now. During those days, the very idea of marginalization used to be a finality in itself. It brought many other concepts that for a politician could only be termed as a blessing. One such concept was the idea about the composition of a "real leader" and his roles.

Simply speaking, a "real leader" was the one who could point his fingers towards Nairobi so as humanitarian aid pours unto his people as soon as possible. So for a politician, this occasion was more of an occasion to pick political bonga points without any stress. This idea was itself a baby of another idea. National government structures were nowhere to be seen in the villages. So this created a vacuum both in terms of information flow and in blame gaming.

Unlike during this era of devolution, the public had no choice but to stick on marginalization as the cause of all their problems. All talks revolved around how to conquer marginalization and restoring "pre-marginalization hope to the people of northern Kenya."

But here comes a new path. Devolution has popped in with its billions. The public is now drifting away from marginalization as the cause of its daily challenges. What used to be Nairobi's sins are quickly being transferred to the doorsteps of county governments. Augmented by social media, residents can now question the priorities of their county governments. This whole transition demonstrates the death of what used to be an era of misinformation and dominance from above.

This has given birth to what can be referred to as a "post-marginalization era", or what others call the era of devolution. This concept reignites the very question that shaped that old era of misinformation but in a somehow different way. The question is: how is "post-marginalization northern Kenya" supposed to look like?

This question brings to life that debate about politics of poverty and poverty of politics, and why some people assert that northern Kenyans shouldn't be optimistic that devolution will change their lives. The debate is particularly informed by the root cause of marginalization.

Truth be said, marginalization thrived because there was support from those with and in power. The public was just a victim of leaders' failure to prioritize public interests. These "development seminars" we see all over have an opportunity to rethink their agenda so as to respond to today's expectations of northern Kenyans.

When it is evident that the public knows what development is and who should be blamed for profiting from poverty, then it becomes an obligation on the side of development stakeholders and all political leaders to retrace their path with a view to impacting positively on the public.

Again, while "post-marginalization northern Kenya" seems to be progressing thanks to devolution, questions about the extent of this progress still dominate the minds of many residents. The control of resources destined to counties by local "sons and daughters" is itself a reason to question their commitment in fighting poverty.

In my opinion, this commitment can only be actualized by asking those at the helm of local decision making organs to remember that to remove the poor from poverty is not and can never be a one-sided activity. Prof Paulo Freire, the author of Pedagogy of the Oppressed, had a reason when he said "those to be liberated should be the initiators of their own liberation".

Post-marginalization northern Kenya lies in the hands of its leaders. By re-configuring and rejecting politics of marginalization, the public has already initiated its liberation. Leaders have no choice but to be part of it.

History will one day question our interventions.

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

Does Relief Food Distribution Kill Drought, Hunger?

Listening to some supposedly intelligent people discussing about the current drought hitting Turkana County and many other dry corners of Kenya prompted my mind to ask itself what the word 'drought' stands for. Is it just a long spell of dry weather hitting a place? Or is it the dryness of our minds and heartlessness of our hearts causing pro-people systems to turn against the very same targets they ought to uplift?

Predictably many of us will point out lack of rains as the real culprit causing drought and by extension leading to starvation - producing those ugly images of women and children fighting for their dear lives. But away from this rather common narrative there rests another critical component that could possibly be the reason why drought kills, and why it should always kill before a veiled 'anti-drought' intervention is quickly launched from all fronts - government, non-government, religious... Unfortunately hidden from these fronts is the question: has drought become so powerful to a point that it has to be cuddled when measures against it are put in place?

This question is relevant because it forms the bedrock of my fears that victims of drought do not appear to be the central reason behind anti-drought moves in Kenya. And to arrive at this painful stop I had to do some flashbacking. Actually if drought were to be set up as a business venture it would have overpowered the influence of those known international oil moguls. In Turkana alone this thing has attracted endless streams of cash, techniques, people and organizations with little impact on the general public.

Perhaps the most visible benefit associated with drought is some locals working as anti-poverty agents. But for how long? Drought benefits those around decision-making tables. Of course this is an area that is highly guarded because of its resourcefulness and the political power players it attracts. This is why I believe drought and other disasters, natural and manmade, have created lethal disaster hitmen patrolling northern Kenya's dry villages scuttling any efforts to empower people. Enlightening these villagers is a step these hitmen will explore every option to stop.

Sometime back I heard a well placed political broker sweet-talking his colleagues. The talk revolved around ways to adopt so as to counter the effects of drought that had ravaged their people. Preceding this small meeting was a conference on disaster preparedness and specifically how to come up with a viable way of sourcing for funds to facilitate this anti-disaster intervention. In the conference were people from all sides: donors, politicians and government representatives. To summarize this story, what has stuck in my mind is a statement made by that political broker: "...some problems come at the right time, moments when we need money for ourselves..." 

Ironically this guy won't cower to shout about the power vested in him to defend, speak for and stand with his people. It is such kind of people that force me to pose the question: does relief food distribution really kill drought, hunger?

I stand to be corrected. A disaster that attracts huge funding inlets and heavy political participation is unlikely to end. Food distribution is an exercise that needs money to purchase, store, transport, and to distribute those rations to victims of drought. These are ways that service lives of many; decision makers both in government and other bodies, politicians, influence peddlers, business people, local agents and many other unseen demons. Now tell me, why has it taken long for Kenya to even express its commitment to bring an end to these painful episodes?

For your information drought is not just about starvation and giving life to disaster hitmen. There are other effects. In many of these dry places when it becomes drier, wind sets in. Apart from causing health complications, these winds cause fires. Isn't it time to make life out of these winds? (Wind energy, I guess, could be an option).

To bring down drought and its hitmen, I think it is time we allowed this year's drought to trigger us to collectively do an honest analysis on past anti-drought, anti-starvation interventions with a view to allowing a new breed of interventionists with victims as their only and number one reason to lead this anti-disaster fight.

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

Turkana-Pokot war is #banditrycapitalism2.0

Two weeks ago my curiosity pushed me into a closed-door peace meeting in Kainuk organized by sub-county security teams from Turkana South and Sigor sub-counties. In the room were selected persons from both sides. The meeting, I learnt, was prompted by the Pokot side after one of its residents claimed that suspected bandits from Turkana allegedly drove away his 250 cows towards Kainuk trading center.

The exchanges that followed uncovered the many old questions associated with Turkana-Pokot war and which have remained unanswered. Untruths, bloody business and creativity whose import is to cover wrongs. The most visible one touched on the value of human life vis-a-vis that of say, a cow.

About a week earlier, one person was shot dead in Kainuk (allegedly by Pokot bandits). No follow up was conducted and the man was buried and forgotten. Unfortunately, this incident did not feature in the agenda list of the gathering. What was given much weight was how those cows said to have been stolen would be returned. 

For your information, killers roaming in this part of Kenya need not worry about being arrested provided they have cows within their reach. You see, there is something here called cow-compensation. It is a form of compensation where a bereaved family is given some cows by agents of a suspected murderer (or his family) to "clean the blood of the dead". Then the whole story is forgotten. This is despite the clear demands of the laws of Kenya that law breakers should be arrested and be subjected to the due process of law.

What disturbs me is the fact that this form of compensation is supported, promoted and defended by those who ought to know what justice means and how such types of law-breaking persons should be handled. 

That equating people's lives with livestock is normal tells me there is something bigger behind Turkana-Pokot war.

The visibility of the deputy county commissioners from both sides in the hall would easily make one believe that government was alive and that law enforcement remained its cardinal obligation. But what flowed from their mouths, augmented by their body language made Kenya look like an abode of all breeds of miscreants where law enforcement only materializes after these miscreants are assured of their safety.

This experience reminded me of an article I read on Evonomics, written by Linsey McGoey - author of No Such Thing as a Free Gift: The Gates Foundation and The Price of Philanthropy.

Though her piece focused on philanthrocapitalism, and how the rich bank on conditions of the poor to lift up their wealth as the poor become poorer, three of her key words fit perfectly into the Turkana-Pokot context. These are relevance, profits and maintenance.

For a distant observer, and indeed the general public, poverty and killings shoot up as key ingredients to concoct a catchy story. And here comes the ball, how would these catchy stories exist if we uproot the main actors profiting from them?

So maintenance of violence is important to keep certain offices relevant and to keep profits flowing in. Call it #banditrycapitalism2.0 in action.

I am unhappy with the way the Kenyan government handles this conflict. Where on earth do you have all tools of work, you know the crook disturbing public order and still opt to go beg that crook to give you cows to pass over to families whose loved ones the crook has killed? Is this the way our Constitution mandates security agents to maintain law and order?

We must just underline some things even if they sound painful. Look, the mafia-like mentality stoking northern Kenya, and Turkana in particular is due to state failure to guarantee security and is the main reason why the region still swims in poverty. Blame not terrain and the gods. The problem is here with us. Bandits sing because they know they have listeners.

The many layers of listeners being entertained by bandits need be identified and action taken against them. Profiting from human blood is more than a curse. It is a crime against humans and God. We must all stand together and neutralize these demons.

Lemukol M. Ng'asike is an architect. Twitter: @mlemukol