Yes, it can and did happen to Kenya too (Daily Nation)

Story by DOREEN BAINGANA Publication Date: 2/1/2008

Last year, Kenyans were persuaded to vote. They were told an election was one way to speak and be heard. And vote they did, in millions. But, the election results (or the tallying) provoked an ugly dispute.

And so the scorned populace reacted publicly but extremely unwisely by turning against their neighbours, attacking and killing. It is the worst form of expression, the worst form of action to cause change, but perhaps it was not entirely unexpected, as years of simmering anger burst forth.

Many others have tried more legitimate forms of expression, such as protests - which have been thwarted. We have all seen the horrific images of protesters being beaten and shot at by the police.

The question is: In what legitimate, sane and safe way can the majority of Kenyans express themselves politically and be heard, and have their concerns acted upon?

What strikes me about reactions by Kenyan writers to the crisis in their country is the genuine shock that it is happening in Kenya. In the neighbouring Uganda, Sudan and Somalia, it’s okay, but not Kenya. Also expressed is the sincere belief in Kenya as a fully formed nation and not an ungainly collection of tribes; that Kenyans love peace (who doesn’t?) and are intrinsically democratic.

In short, Kenya is not your average CNN banana republic smouldering in chaos. Shock therefore is when lovely Kenya is suddenly and strangely crumbling. There is shock expressed that Kenyans could turn to violence, as if it hadn’t happened before (e.g. the attempted coup of 1982 and the clashes in the Rift Valley in 1992 and 1997).

It is now clear, and cannot be ignored, that the underlying, long-term causes of this crisis are not much different, except in degree, from the conditions among Kenya’s neighbours: the highly centralised power structure, the tribalism, the acute economic inequality and the huge masses of frustrated poor. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, and the messed up election burst the fragile seams that held the nation together.

I am not condemning this innocent view that (mostly middle and upper class) Kenyans have been privileged enough to have.

In fact, I applaud it when it is not completely blind because an idealistic belief in one’s country and the democratic process is necessary for the idea of a nation to become reality.

It is the belief in Kenya’s democratic institutions that led millions to vote, and in fact the voting itself was said to be free and fair on the whole. The tallying, or lack thereof, is another matter. My fear is that the electoral mess will have a more searing effect on the nation’s psyche than the chaos we now see. It will completely erode any idealistic belief in the democratic process and institutions, and then there really will be nothing left but machetes and guns.

I say this as a Ugandan who has absolutely no trust in our leaders, and no reason to trust them. Cynicism is the Ugandan’s default position when it comes to politics. When you grow up with public executions as entertainment on TV, the first thing you learn about politics is that the state is also an instrument of terror.

We learnt this lesson not just during the Idi Amin era, but had it harshly repeated, as if we did not get it the first time, by government after government that followed.

No generation has been left behind. As we watched adults do anything to put food on the table —bribe, beg, spy, steal, or become politicians, we learnt that this is what you do to survive, and right or wrong is not the issue. One lesson deeply ingrained in every Ugandan is that our security forces exist to both protect and attack us. Lest we dared forget it, lulled by campaign talk during the presidential elections of 2006, the government graciously ordered the “Black Mamba” paramilitary unit to storm the courts as opposition members tried to seek legal recourse. We were rudely reminded that those in power would not let go simply because of this game called elections.

What lessons are Kenya’s child refugees learning right now, before they can learn anything else? That if you hate someone or feel cheated, kill. If not so, burn down their property, chase them away; that is also in order to revenge with the same savagery. And what have all those children who watched the swearing-in ceremony learnt? That the way to deal with a crisis you have caused is to keep insisting, with a straight face, that there is no problem?

Kenyans, do not go down our cynical road: it leads to nothing but more violence, victims and a victim mentality, and it is self-perpetuating. But it is not too late. The human rights activist Okiya Omtatah Okoiti, who chained himself to police gates in Nairobi a fortnight ago, was a powerful counterpoint to the images of killers with machetes and police with guns.

The young must be given a chance to cultivate this faith and idealism. They must not learn their political lessons from the horrific images and events of past four weeks.