Kenya Day II

I'm starting to get used to the eccentricities of everyday life in these parts, peculiarities that once were rather normal phenomena in the course of the daily workings of my life.

Nairobi remains as vibrant, active, and electric as she's always been, a bustling hub of activities under the equatorial sun. It's heartening to note the progress that has been made here in terms of infrastructure and architecture as I stated yesterday. Similarly, it's rather disquieting to note the exacerbation of several fundamental factors that are central to the long term development of Kenya.

My focus in this article is on one of the most controversial housing projects in the history of the African continent, the slum settlement of Kibera, home to over 250'000 people who live in or close to abject poverty. I drove past Kibera yesterday around rush hour, confronted on both sides by the rush of pedestrians on their way home to the slum back from work. The road was teeming with one swank SUV after another, a colourful parade of the toys of the wealthy in the faces of the poorest of the poor. On either side of the car expressions of desperation and suffering were the order of the day, etched irrefutably candidly on the fatigued faces of the masses of oncoming pedestrians as they trekked home to their misery after slaving away for the interests of the rich. One has to be extraordinarily inhuman or blind not to have sensed the tremendously potent undertone of untold suffering in the air, and this was merely on the outskirts of Kibera.


The History of Kibera

Kibera is Africa's second largest slum settlement after South Africa's Soweto and was originally created by the colonialist British government as a settlement for Nubian soldiers returning from the first world war. The status of these ex war soldiers as former servants of the British crown coupled with the fact that they laid no claim to "native reserves" by virtue of the fact that they were "detribalized natives" meant that the British government of the time negated to interfere in the development of the settlement. This punctuated the commencement of the sprawl of Kibera, as local tribes migrated to the area to rent affordable housing from the resident Nubian population. Kenya's attainment of independence in 1963 saw Kibera declared an illegal settlement by the new government. Notwithstanding, migration to the settlement continued relatively unabated such that by 1974 the Nubian population's status as the dominant ethnic group in Kibera was ousted by the influx of members of the Kikuyu tribe who took over administrative control via political patronage.

The ethnic makeup of the slum has altered over time such that most ethnic groups in Kenya are numerically represented to one extent or another the way things stand at present, though the Luo and Luya tribes constitute the dominant population. The implications of this dominion in the context of the fact that the prime minister of Kenya, (Raila Odinga) is himself both a Luo and a member of parliament for the area that Kibera is situated in have had worrying undertones for ethnic conflict in the nation inasmuch by providing him with access to a sizeable demonstration force from within the Kibera community. The aforesaid force has been used frequently as a tool to upset harmony in the nation via violent expressions of the political agendas of the prime minister. It has to be said that the political agendas of the president (Mwai Kibaki) have also been represented in similar fashion albeit from within support groups within other slum areas such as Kibera's neighbouring slum quarter, Mathare Valley where the dominant population is of the Kikuyu tribe, just like the president himself. In both cases, the political and ideological conflicts of both leaders have been wrongfullly translated into a conflict based on ethnic grounds, as controversial and as ironic as such a misconception may be, reflecting a tragic, prevalent cancer that has hacked away at Africa's spinal chord for centuries.

The Dynamics of Kibera

Kibera lies approximately 5 km's from Nairobi's city centre in the southwest of the city. The southern fringe of the settlement borders the Nairobi Dam, and the Nairobi river. The affordable housing prices in the slum area attract Kenya's poor from far and wide many of whom migrate from rural areas plagued by chronic underdevelopment and lack of opportunities. Tragically however, the hell they leave is not replaced by the heaven they seek in any way. Living conditions in Kibera are some of the harshest in the world, characterised by a lack of sewage systems, the use of flying toilets (paper bags containing fecal material that are deposited or hurled onto rooftops, garbage heaps or simply as far away from ones home as possible) poor access to safe driking water and abject impoverishment. Crime typically thrives under such fertile conditions. Kibera is rife with incidents of both violent and petty crime, exacerbated by the lack of any form of police presence in the area implying that law and order, like any other government-provided services are completely and totally non existent and based on power inequalities that exploit the powerless and furnish the powerful.

The definition of anarchy could not possibly be epitomised in a more quintessential capacity than by the tragedy of Kibera, a tragedy that has not been tackled in any tangible manner by any government or ruling power in the history of Kenya. Ironically however, many of Kibera's residents constitute the working class majority that slaves away selflessly for the interests of the upper echelons of Kenyan society, to whom their political rights and liberties are trusted needless to say to to imminent avail and with no sustainable effect. The dire plight of Africa's second largest slum area has been wrongfully and sadistically exploited by Kenya's politicians who have used its problems as a fertile breeding ground for their ideological ethos , exploiting ethnic differences to champion their political statuses and dividing an entire city and nation in the process. And hence, as another day comes to pass, Kibera's problems get a little bit more grave, a little more pronounced and far more tragic. Invariably, Kibera's tragedy is not its own alone, but that of an entire nation and indeed of an entire continent. The repression of the lowest of the low in the social system for the benefit of upper society who continue to wallow away in their materialistic grandiloquence is no stranger to Africa. The question is when will it ever end ? Will it ever end ?


Links of Interest

Music Video> The World On Fire Sarah Mclachlan

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDmPcSWE0WU

Video trailer> Kibera Kid

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--dpoO3ACRU

Kenya Day One

I touched down at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport last night after a smooth flight courtesy of the Dutch carrier KLM. My dear sister Pat, brother-in law Victor and their little lad Hawi, (my 2 year old nephew who was born whilst I was away) were at the airport to pick me up along with my sister June’s daughter, my niece Jessica who was so very different when I left here 5 years ago.

5 vivid, vibrant years have passed since I was in Kenya last. It feels like such a lifetime ago, more so now in light of all the many changes I’ve seen in the country I grew up in. I return to Kenya so very different to who and what I was when I left, richer in experience and in insight on the world, starved however of a certain few luxuries that only Kenya can offer.

Kenya seems to be undergoing a period of significant political change, a process that’s unfolding even as I sit here writing this. The television screens by the waiting lines at airport last night flickered constantly with reel upon reel detailing the findings of The International Criminal Court’s findings pertaining to the naming of six high profile Kenyan figures in connection with responsibility for the politically connected killings and bloodshed that took place in the controversial 2007 general elections that left over 1000 dead and forced over half a million people to flee their homes. Internationally, the declarations of the ICC led by prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo have been hailed as constructive to the future of Kenya with Barack Obama, whose late father was Kenyan voicing his support for the findings. Locally, however, The Ocampo findings have not been embraced with such high zest. President Mwai Kibaki remains committed to setting up a local tribunal to investigate the election violence, a move which critics say is nothing more than a tactic to clear many of the guilty parties responsible for the bloodshed of their role in it. The ICC findings in the words of prosecutor Ocampo identified the “most responsible” culprits yet there are many others that Kenya could choose to implicate too. The Ocampo six as some have come to call the accused, have been summoned by The Hague to defend themselves against the charges leveled at them and failure to do so will result in arrest warrants being issued. All of this essentially implies that the positions of many of the political elite in this country are at present under the unprecedented threat of them being liable for their actions whilst in office, a long overdue development that could benefit the ordinary Kenyan. Notwithstanding, the trial is far from complete and many questions remain as of yet, unanswered. The possibility of the political elite stepping in to protect or shield the Ocampo six from prosecution should certainly not be ruled out, in a nation whose past is littered with heinous cover-ups on the part of corrupt and in many cases criminal politicians. All the same, the apportioning of blame for the 2007 massacres is a welcome step towards a brighter and better future and if nothing else, serves as an external mechanism of pressure that ought to lead to greater transparency and more accountability from the ruling echelons, an elite that has failed to serve the needs of its people and sought to better its own since the nation gained independence.

Politically then it is safe to say that Kenya has changed rather substantially since I’ve been away and looks set to continue down the path of change and progress. There have also been significant infrastructural changes to the architectural landscape I once knew. I can’t help but marvel at the countless examples of construction sites all over Nairobi at the moment, or the many buildings that have sprung up since my departure. Lining the highway from the airport for instance are a series of stylish, modern buildings that glisten with the verve and swerve of a city that’s headed down the right track. Progress seems to have been in made with respect to public works too; where once there were little more than potholed tracks that one was forced to navigate precariously through, there are now numerous examples of well paved roads that are a pleasure to drive on.

And whilst some things change, others stay the same and may always do so. Driving habits in Kenya remain as controversial as they have always been. The influx of cars, a shocking number of which bear the latest registration numbers continues to put pressure on the ability of the road network to cope with them, exacerbating traffic jam related challenges that have existed for quite some time. Dysfunctional traffic lights and a chronic lack of pedestrian crossings (or respect for the pedestrian crossings that do exist of the part of motorists) remain as of yet, unsolved issues in the capital city. This was exemplified most candidly to me on the way from the airport last night, as a maasai streaked across the highway ahead of us in a flash of red under the car headlights. Such-like incidents (none of which have involved more maasais however) since last night have been a feature of driving in Nairobi that I’ve had to get used to again.

On the whole though, it’s great to be back in Nairoberry, where the temperate sunshine is beating determinedly down, a sunshine whose radiance and charm I’ve missed for the longest time. I remain observant and inquisitive about all the many developments (or lack of them) eager if not anxious about the prospect of the rest of my days here.

The Cavalier Antics of The Brute

A tribute to individuality. The world as we know it is a multi dimensional framework of infinite possibilities. The plight of humanity at present is that man, with his finite, established perceptual norms is trying to grasp that which lies beyond the finite. Ergo it follows that his comprehension of himself and of the universe(s) in which he exists is in turn, a finite (i.e. limited) notion. Inequality is the consequence of this, man's futile struggle to separate himself from himself. Inequality manifests itself in class struggle, power abuse, racial imbalance; the fundamental problems of the world today as they always have been.

I write this, imprisoned by the very virtue of being human, contained by such a virtue, scathed, loved, adored but always imprisoned by this simple manner of virtue.

The world around me is alive and awake, dreaming in its wandering winter waylays,

These tearful shows of sorrow, these hopeful mourns of peace

The pacifist serenity of the shade has long since wandered

Replaced instead by congenial feuds, impertinent woes and vile usherings

Peace, stratified, symmetrical symphonies, the loot that fills your welcome ears

Tears, joy, anguish, lyricism, the hosts that partake such poignant a feast

Brave, beaten, bridled by the beaming beckoning beauty of sunrise

By the diligent precedence of the cold, the cavalier antics of the brute.

Outbound On The Wings Of Love

The first major snowfall of the year has been and gone, on a day that communist North Korea attacked South Korea. I’m inside my bunker, warm and sheltered from the hostile yet beautiful world out there, a world that’s been painted white tonight by the proper onset of the oncoming winter. It’s beautiful to look at it all, much as it is disheartening and disquieting to hear of North Korea’s aggressions against her neighbour. Hence sprouts the question on my lips, is the sight before me a winter horror show, a winter wonderland (i.e. a wonderful state of affairs) ,a Winter WONDERland (i.e. a state of affairs that leaves plenty for one to wonder / ponder about) or perhaps even a Winter WANDER-land (a platform for the synesthetic wanderings of the tender heart?) I’d like to think it encompasses all notions, or at the very least many notions much like beauty does. My thoughts converge in prose:

Outbound on the wings of love

Inbound, my heart, my reality, my absurdity

Quaint, saintly stately simple like a dove

Complex, intricate, distinctly disparate like causality

Outbound on the wings of love

Inbound, my soul, my destiny, my tranquillity

Faint, daintily decadent, drab like concrete

Intertwined, delicately spun. Soigné like carnation petals

Outbound on the wings of love

Inbound, my passion, my adoration, my incongruity

Impatient, acrimoniously vacant, plain as chess

Imbued, finely stitched. Soft and serene like the falling snow.

Pitch cream

I walk in a weary winter wilderness, where the people I love and the friends I knew have changed their spirits with the passions and devotions of the time. I long for the earnest summer and its warm eddies of the morning that kiss me softly upon my awakening. The earnest summer that nurses me tenderly and with the affection of a rose petal falling through the still night. I long for this more than anything else, as does everyone else.

The cold winter winds bring a foreboding sense of evil with them, one that pricks and stabs at the fingertips of the heart's fabric, yet if the trees in their stately nakedness can survive this horror show, and their roots can bloom as they do beneath the frozen earth, how can it be that mankind, with his vast armada of warmth and happiness solicitors manages to chill his marrow from the inside out? Warmth comes from within, passions needn't die along with the unseen sun. No one thing, climate or concept can be the source of happiness...It sprouts from within.

Out of the night that inspires me, caramel from the humble beginnings from pitch to ditch
A great many tidings come to mind, simple, stately and innate, a cure for the perennial itch
The world outside is frightfully shallow, a mere convalescence of a bygone existence
The trees have folded their pride, held intact on the sole premise of the prospect of transcendence
Out of the day that constructs me, beige from the genesis of rustic existence
A torrent of emotions surface to the canvas of thought, sordid, structured and irate
The moon beyond is delightfully impassioned, a startling incandescence of vivid yet timid contrasts
The leaves have bent their stately status, wrenched from their roots by the decadent beauty of the cold

Dansk Folkeparti : Pushing The Wrong Buttons And Getting Away With it All The Same

Associating minority groups with everything that's going wrong in society is nothing new. The insinuation by The Danish People's Party of there being no free food left in hospital waiting rooms due to the large appetite of foreign immigrants should therefore come as no surprise. (See original article http://politiken.dk/indland/ECE1107381/df-indvandrere-tager-din-saft-og-kage/)

What is shocking, however, is the fact that the Danish People's Party is the third largest party in this country. where do all the votes come from and does this reflect something rather upsetting about a nation that prides itself in liberal, egalitarian virtues? The notion of there being such extensive support for a party that has made no attempt to hide its scorn and contempt for foreign nationals living on Danish soil is a troubling prospect indeed. The severity of it all is emboldened by the fact that Denmark doesn't actually have that many immigrants compared to other European nations and the rate of immigration into the country is considerably below the EU norm. The Danish people's party has however, made every attempt to magnify and exaggerate the issue of immigration, likening it to an attack on the virtues and traditions of the nation, in keeping with the traditions of most right-wing movements.

Just over half a century ago a certain minority group in European society were directly and deliberately linked to the problems and predicaments of the time. The results of this persecution were catastrophic to say the least, yet fast forward the hand of time to modern day European society and the notion that history repeats itself may indeed seem rather plausible. The rise of far-right parties in Europe over the last five years is as alarming as it is deplorable. The British National Party recently gained representation in the European parliament whilst the French National Front continues to increase its influence in everyday French politics. In The Netherlands, Geert Wilders' anti-Islamist Party For Freedom has equalled the the Danish People's party in becoming the third largest political party (as of the 2010 general election) For a party that is only five years old, such exponential growth can only be described as remarkable, yet again the question as to what this reflects about the attitudes of a nation comes to prominence.

The tactics of the aforementioned far-right political parties seek, in no uncertain terms, to instill a fear of the unknown amongst the citizens of Europe by tactically cultivating associations between the problems of a nation and the immigrants within it. Immigrants are portrayed as being problematic, destructive and threatening to the fundamental ideals of the nation thus prompting a fear of everything foreign and a melodramatic affection for nationalist morals and only nationalist morals.

To all those who continue to vote for the far right, what you fear is not out there amongst the immigrants of whom you know absolutely nothing about, it is nowhere else than within you, in the caverns and crevices of your conscience that you dare not venture into. Your fear is essentially the fear of the unknown, the fear of not being part of the nationalist zeitgeist that you believe to be your safety net, the fear of being an individual capable of rational and independent thought. Truth however is prevalent construct even amongst those in denial; perhaps the culprit responsible for the problems of modern day Europe is none other than the foreigner staring at you in the mirror.

Sensation, oh how I've missed you so

Sensation Sensation Sensation! It’s been a long year but here we are yet again, destined to meet in the eternity of white yonder! How I’ve missed you! In years gone by I made a pilgrimage over hundreds of kilometres, across an entire nation to see you. Last year I transcended to a higher level of purpose through you and with you. This year, I come to you from the pinnacle of my swishing dreams, ready to share my happiness with you and to hear of your progress. Long live the night! I’m ready to leave the world behind me and let love take over!

What is Sensastion White might you ask?

Sensation is an large indoor dance event that originated in the Netherlands. The original event ran exclusively in Amsterdam for a period of five years up until 2005. Today, the Sensation concept has been proudly exported to other nations such as Chile, Belgium, Germany, Poland, Hungary, Czech Republic and Denmark.

Sensation was originally a trance event but in later years it has become a pure house music affair. All attendees are required to wear white and the arena in which the event is held is elaborately decorated to match Sensation’s themes. This year sees Sensation make a return to Denmark for the third year running after a successful debut in 2008 and a solid follow-up last year. The event has been all but sold out, with several well-known Dj names such as Fedde Le Grande, Noir, Joris Voorn, 2000 and One and the legendary Eric Prydz on the lineup for what promises to be a spectacular event.

Magical moments of previous Sensation Whites’

Tiga dropping his Mind Dimension tune (Sensation White , Parken stadium 2008)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=906LOdN4I_c

I was sat catching my breath in the stands with a mate when Tiga dropped this sizzling tune, which had only just come out. I almost fell down the stairs as I rushed to the heart and pulse of the ocean of white beneath me to revel in the magic this monstrous tune created

Laidback Luke’s remix of Martin Soleveig’s “I want you” killer getting dropped (Sensation White , Parken stadium 2008)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bp0GoNu4KRA

I had this song stuck in my head months after Sensation was long gone. I don’t remember who dropped it or at what point during the night this took place, all my memory associates this song with every time I hear it is the sheer euphoria of being carried away to the mystical dreamland of Sensation White.

One of my mates (no names disclosed) trying to clamber over the barriers dividing the VIP section from the rest of the arena. He was promptly hauled down by a rather business-like bouncer and escorted to the exit. Luckily for him, it was closing time so we were on the way out in anycase. It had me laughing though !

In a few hours from now, I'll be back in the white wonderland again, larging it with the erstwhile Francesco Imperato & Marcelo Carasco. It's going to be massive !

Celebrate life !

Peace, love and hedonism.