Saturday, May 1, 2010

Four paws and a voice.

Alright, I’ve got a show that you simply must see. I don’t think its on air in the US…yet. The name: Love Spell. The best part: It’s a Mexican soap opera dubbed over with English. In terms of drama, it’s a soap opera on steroids. Emotion is basically pouring out of the TV. Every weeknight during dinner Mama and I (and whoever else is around) laugh and cry as we become spellbound by the latest turn of events. At first I watched the show because it was on during dinner. But I think I might have a problem now. I might actually watch it even if Mama wasn’t home.


Besides watching the greatest show ever to grace Kenyan television, I want to offer a bit of advice when it comes to mailing packages to Kenya. Just don’t do it. I haven’t gone through the experience personally, but I know people who have and they just aren’t the same because of it. At first, you get a little slip of paper asking you to come pick up your package from the post office downtown. Sounds easy, right? On the bus into town you’re probably trying to guess what US-born goodies are tucked away in your package, unaware of the saga that awaits you. Once you’re at the post office, you’re directed to a room with tellers on either side. You get your package (it’s in your hands), but then the process hits you. You need to go back and forth across this room, checking the weight, getting that stamp, paying that fee. One unfortunate young student has told me that the room becomes a sort of dungeon out of which you may never return. I may have dramatized the experience a bit, but you get the idea.


Last week I hopped on a few matatus and a piki-piki (motorcycle) to visit the Dandora Dump, located just north of Nairobi. One of my friends is doing her Independent Study Project there and offered to show me around. It is truly a different world. We’re talking about 30 acres of trash from all over Nairobi with a whole informal economy built out of innovative ways to use trash. Picture rolling hills of trash with the occasional pig or giant stork scattered about. Yup, that’s right. The only birds to frequent the dump are giant storks that circle overhead trying to act like vultures until they spy some scrumptious morsel. My friend is following around a bunch of reformed thugs who raise pigs in the dump.


Though it’s a place we usually label as decomposing and devoid of life, this particular dump has a vibrancy of activity likened to a construction site. I’m not trying to paint it as a fairyland. Kids grow up homeless in the dump, most of the pig-raisers are just scrapping by (and putting some very unhealthy pork in the market), and the daily arrival of trucks carrying all the waste (mostly food trays and such) from international airlines flights is one of the big money opportunities. But there’s something unique happening there too. In the absence of government services, people are starting to create a waste management system that is both resourceful and somewhat environmentally friendly. Economics of Globalization 101: Informal economies really run the world.


Back home, I recently convinced Mama Angetta that registering to vote in the upcoming draft constitution referendum would be a great idea. Granted part of the deal was that I had to wait in line with her, but she’s registered to vote nonetheless. This draft constitution has been the big news in Kenyan politics of late. It is a big deal. The existing constitution enacted after independence reeks of failed African democracy. By the way, I’ve come to believe that democracy has failed so often out here on the African continent because of misplaced accountability. Even when we discount the repercussions of the colonial era and the scramble for Africa, us foreigners are still helping to screw up governance out here.


In Kenya, donor aid accounts for a large portion of the government revenue, oftentimes the largest single source of revenue. Because of the flood of dolla bills coming in from international institutions, churches, and individuals, government officials essentially become accountable to the foreigners giving them funds. It makes sense. A leader (or leadership body) is only truly accountable to those who give them a source of revenue or support. In a well-designed democracy, taxpayers are the main source of revenue, thus creating a political environment in which the government is actually accountable to their citizens. With Kenya, it’s a case of well-intentioned foreigners deciding how an African government should serve their citizens. Though it’s a totally unsustainable system, it’s there and it wouldn’t help to ask that USAID stop sending millions to the Kenyan government. If that happened, say goodbye to free HIV/AIDS medications.


But I think something needs to change. If there were a system in which the Kenyan government was accountable to its citizens, rather than foreign donors, then issues of corruption, ethnic politics, and government inefficiencies might just go away. In Kenya, this process starts with empowering citizens, and I think the best way to do that is through a media democracy. But that’s my project stuff creeping in and maybe I’ll talk about it later.


Back to the draft constitution. There’s going to be a nationwide referendum in June, and everybody and their mother is talking about the ‘No’ or ‘Yes’ campaigns. The big players in the ‘No’ campaign are the majority of major Christian church leaders. In the draft, there’s a clause that allows for abortion in cases where the mother’s health is in danger. The clergy has their britches in a bundle over this one. There’s also a clause that allows for a Muslim civil law court, the Kadhi’s Court, to be legitimized by the state. In the words of a Kenyan friend, this court has been around since time ‘immortal’. So obviously, the Christian church is going to be against any blurring of church and state, except when it comes to social issues, ya know…such as abortion (which is really a public health issue, not a political issue).


I think the church organizations are being completely ridiculous with their opposition, but what’s even more frustrating is that these church leaders are convincing their congregations to vote ‘no’. And people are buying it, blindly. The church in Kenya has a lot of sway, way too much sway in my opinion. Since when did it become the role of the Protestant clergy to make political decisions for those who listen to their Sunday morning lectures? My host mama is in this ‘I’m voting no because my pastor said so’ mode, but we’ve had a few chats and there’s still hope. There’s nothing wrong with a Christian voting ‘no’ because they are truly against the draft, but the clergy is openly exploiting the unwavering trust of their congregations.


That’s not to say that every Christian is going to vote ‘no’ in June. I’ve talked with a few pastors who say that Kenya needs to ratify this draft constitution because it’s much better than what they’ve got, even if there are a few uncomfortable clauses.


I played billiards the other day at a one-room pool hall on the main road that wraps around Kibera. I had walked by this particular pool hall a number of times and finally just decided it was time. The room was so small that there were at least three different size cues to be used throughout the game. Also, if you’re ever in Kenya playing billiards and someone makes a sizzlin’ shot, just slap the table a few times to signal how impressed you are. The number of slaps increases with the impressiveness of the shot.


The last three weeks have been filled with me bouncing around Kibera checking out how community media works here. It’s been awesome, simply awesome. Some highlights? One evening, I spent three hours talking with a Nubian elder about the history of Kibera, which was originally a Nubian settlement. He was talking about his family’s common history. His teenage son was sitting there with us and I couldn’t help but think how cool it is to have such a rich historical knowledge. This teenage dude was probably bored out of his mind, but this history has really shaped his family’s life and the growth of Kibera into the well-known African slum it is today. Grandpa and Grandma, when I get home I’d like to have a chat. I think it’s time I learned a bit more about the history of my people. Or at least the fam.


I’m also writing a couple of articles for one of the local newspapers and the online blog up in Kakuma Refugee Camp. I really want to write these articles, but it’s been tough. As a non-Kenyan and non-refugee, I felt a bit out of place offering my opinion on the urban refugee situation in Nairobi. In the end, I just wrote what I thought and sent it along. It’s funny that I can so easily write an article for a Kenyan paper when so many Kenyans don’t have that opportunity. I’ve realized that the right to freedom of the press is really just a form of property rights. Essentially, if you don’t have money, you have no voice.


That’s kinda what my project is turning into. I won’t ramble about half-developed ideas but basically there’s an idea of ‘open data’ that is starting to creep into the Internet realm of Kenya. With respect to community media in Kibera, this means that community members can write articles, reports, or whatever on a site called the Voice of Kibera. Check out participatory journalism. Publish first, filter later. It’s kinda the opposite of traditional journalism’s sense of filter first, then publish. And in a poor community such as Kibera, where people don’t have consistent Internet access, there’s an idea that you can SMS (text) in a report. I’m not being very clear, but the potential of this stuff is bordering revolutionary. If enough people are participating, then it can be used as a medium for a poor and marginalized community to be empowered through a collective voice. Think media democracy. Everyone has a voice and the means to speak out. I’ve stumbled upon the folks starting this project in Kibera, and even they don’t really know what might happen.


During the Post-Election Violence of 2007, a dude named Solo 7 went Kibera painting everything he could find with the words ‘Keep Peace’ in white paint. I’ve seen this phrase everywhere. But a friend of mine recently caught sight of a stray dog walking down the street with a faded ‘Keep Peace’ painted on its side. Do you think it’s public vandalism because the dog is a stray? Walking symbol of peace for sure. This dude Solo 7 is able to creatively find his own voice. We need more dogs like that. But not more of the dogs that chased me the other day. We’ve got plenty of those sorts.


Amidst all this, I’ve also spent a fair amount of time slipping away from the present. With class selection, housing stuff, and only two weeks left in the program, how could I not imagine the steez that will ensue next fall up at Colbs? Congrats Han and Jacobo on your newly acquired Outing Club head honcho roles! With a lot of help from Petie Booth, I’ve also spent some time figuring out my summer plans. Things have just come together. After the Perkins fam comes out to Kenya at the end of May, I’ll be interning at a civil society organization called the Uganda Debt Network with a little dough from a Colby grant. Petie, who’s been studying in Kampala for the semester, will be working on some stellar project with the Refugee Law Project. We’ll be chillaxing in Kampala until the end of July, travel around for a bit, then head back across the pond in mid-August. I’m missing the Minnesota lakes and all the friends, fam, and extreme tubing that goes along with ‘em. Prepare yourself Justin.


I’ll leave you with a question that has stumped my friend Luke and I for a bit. At his house in Jamhuri, there’s a poster in the bathroom with two monkeys dressed in suits, sitting on toilets, eating bananas. Quite the sight. Along the bottom, there‘s a quote that says, “Nature has no medicine for troubled minds.” What does it all mean? My hunch is that to be troubled is to be free. Let me know what you think. Hardcore paper writing is set to take over my life this week, so if you don’t hear from me for a while then pray that I haven’t got some sort of finger malady from too much typing.


Take care, but not too much. I just learned that some cats have a disease called ‘risk-assessment syndrome’. I wish you a bit of that wherever you are. Just enough to try something new or take a different way home.