Electoral Violence in Kenya

I have often been critical of the media’s propensity to paint African events with the blood, bullets, and violence that sells newspapers and magazines. Child soldiers, genocide, and refugees are deemed newsworthy, while stories about happy, educated, hard-working middle class Africans aren’t. Both of these faces, and many more, make up the mosaic of this diverse, emerging continent. I am guilty of what I criticize. I read, in fact seek, books that investigate the ugly sides of Africa more readily than success stories such as improved economic growth, success in dealing with AIDS, or higher literacy rates.

In an attempt to paint a more balanced picture of Africa, and my experiences here, I try to capture both the beauty and horror that mark this continent. I want you to know about the natural splendor, the sense of freedom and adventure, but I am also compelled to tell you about the forces that divide and set populations against each other. Over the last several years I have blogged about the Zimbabwe debacle, the Darfur quagmire, the Rwandan nightmare of 1994, the Somalia tragedy, and the associated refugee populations that go along with these occurrences. I get the most hits on my sites and the most comments and feedback when I delve into war, human suffering, and loss of life.

Passions are unleashed. People get outraged. They want to channel the uncomfortable feeling that accompanies reading about suffering. It feels good to write about it. It’s cathartic. That’s why I do this. And it feels good to hear back from you. It reassures me that other people know and care.

I have considered Kenya home for over 4 years. In many senses, I feel I’ve come of age while living in this East African Eden. It does things to me that no other place has. I have always felt Kenya was different than other African countries. I still feel that way. But the events of the last week have shown me an ugly face of this nation that I honestly never thought I’d see. Kenyans pride themselves on the diversity of their nation, and their ability to amicably coexist. Virtually every other nation in the East African region has been debilitated by war, conflict, misrule, poverty, and famine. Kenya emerged as a leading nation in the region with the strongest economy while avoiding war. I was proud of that.

The same can not be said about Kenya today, 6 days after the 2007 Presidential Election, in which this nation has become engulfed in a politically driven ethnic violence in which at least 200 people have been killed in riots and running battles between civilians and police. Now I’ve got your attention.

This is where I do what I hate doing: I report on this most unfortunate series of events at the risk of reinforcing western stereotypes of Africa as a continent of savage violence, hopelessly corrupt, and racked with poverty, starvation, and HIV. To see Africa exclusively through the lens of this popular portrayal is to fall victim to an inaccurate and oversimplified interpretation. The realities of Africa are driven by complex, overlapping, and interrelated factors that are not readily understood by even the most ardent analyst.

Background

For the last 6 months I have keenly followed political developments in Kenya in the run-up to the December 27^th, 2007 general election. It was exciting to watch and participate in the political enthusiasm as Kenyans would go to the polls to elect their Members of Parliament and their President. The incumbent, Mwai Kibaki, was facing stiff competition from the leader of the opposition Orange Democratic Movement’s (ODM) Raila Odinga. Odinga led in most Steadman opinion polls in the weeks prior to the election.

To understand politics in Kenya, one must have a grasp on the ethnic makeup of this country. Because it appears, sadly, that ethnicity and political loyalty are intrinsically linked. The incumbent, Mwai Kibaki, is an ethnic Kikuyu who hails from Central Province, predominated by Kikuyus, Kenya’s largest tribe. They form the bulk of Kibaki’s support. The ODM party of Raila Odinga is mostly supported by the Luo people of the Lake Victoria region of Kenya. Odinga hails from this same region and is of the same ethnicity. It is also important to realize that the Luo people have for decades felt marginalized by the government, through assassinations of historical Luo leaders, disproportionate access to land, resources, and positions of political power, in relation to the Kikuyu. All of this is underscored by high levels of poverty (and the associated suffering) which leads people (often falsely) to the notion that if someone from their region and tribe becomes the President, they will miraculously be lifted to a higher standard of living, and greater socio-economic security. Though an oversimplified description, this outlines the ethno-political forces playing out.

Elections

December 27^th, 2007 finally arrived. I had hurriedly rushed back to Nairobi to witness the democratic process in motion, and to see Kenyans choose their leaders. Election Day went smoothly. It was a beautiful sight to wander around my neighborhood polling station and see the huge crowd who had turned out to vote. People of all traditions, tribes, and cultures stood patiently in a line that stretched on for almost 2 kilometers. I walked most of it, envious since I couldn’t vote. I breathed in the spirit of multiparty democracy at work, while a politically charged populace waited in line for as much as 8 hours to cast their vote. I was abuzz with political optimism. I went to a coffee shop, ordered a cappuccino, and wrote flowery observations in my journal with a smattering of words like “unity”, “harmony”, “free and fair”, “democracy”, “cooperation”, and “patience.”

We expected the winner, either Kibaki or Odinga, to be pronounced by the Electoral Commission of Kenya’s (ECK) Chairman on December 28^th. The results showed Odinga with a comfortable lead after the first two days of counting votes. However, on the morning of December 29^th, results were released in which Kibaki had made huge gains while Odinga’s numbers had stagnated. Tension began to rear its ugly head. The nation’s patience was running out, and youth took to the streets demanding that final results be announced. The protests were carried out by young, rowdy youth supporters of ODM, who sensed that voter manipulation was taking place and that Kibaki was going to be pronounced the winner, while Odinga received more votes. I overheard a Kenyan say, “This is our Florida.”

On December 29^th I was driving with a friend towards Uganda. We were going on a safari for a few days to celebrate the New Year. To get to Uganda from Kenya you must drive through Nyanza,Western, and Rift Valley provinces, all ODM strongholds. We started to get text messages that things were stirring up in Nairobi with large groups of demonstrators taking to the streets. Shortly after learning of this, we pulled into the town of Eldoret. There was a strange vibe in the air. At one end of town the road had been blocked by huge boulders pushed across the road. We drove around them, and cautiously proceeded into town. We saw smoke burning at one end of town. We headed north on the road to the Malaba border. The street was lined with men, standing shoulder to shoulder, two or three deep. It was noon, but all of the shops were eerily closed. The men looked pensive, the crowd was charged; they pumped clinched fists. The air felt combustible. We hurriedly proceeded through town, swerving around a tire burning in the street. We then came to our first roadblock. Rowdy youths were beginning to congregate and had blocked the road with stones. We rolled up the windows and drove around them as they cheered, waving machetes, clubs, and rocks in the air. My heart rate went up and I felt adrenaline surge through my body. The Uganda border was an hour away. We proceeded, not knowing what was ahead. In minutes we met another roadblock, a larger crowd blocked our vehicle. We continued, unsure what to do. Then we came to several youths lying across the road, some sharpening their machetes by scraping them across the tarmac. I rolled down the window to negotiate. They demanded money and stated we couldn’t continue. Looking down the road we saw a crowd of at least 1,000 people blocking the road. Traffic ground to a halt. We were pinned. My friend JP turned the Landcruiser around and we conversed in quick, sudden bursts, fear oozing through the vehicle’s interior. Several more young men surrounded our car. One raised a boulder and threatened to throw it at the windshield. Another knocked the rear glass with a club. They began yelling. JP lunged the Landcruiser at a guy standing in our path. He dove out of the way and we quickly accelerated back towards Eldoret, clearly shaken.

At the junction with the Kitale road, all transport trucks and cars had pulled off the side of the road. I chatted with several people. They said fighting had started in Eldoret, the town we’d passed through 30 minutes ago. We inquired about the Kitale road. We decided to give it a try. Within 10 minutes, just south of the village of Soy, we met another angry mob. They were shouting ODM party slogans and demanding that the ECK pronounce the winner. Most of the protestors were ethnic Luos and Kalenjins. They began to take out their political frustrations on ethnic Kikuyus. This is one of the reasons they were blocking the road. They were looking for supporters of PNU (Kibaki’s party), angered by fears that the votes were being manipulated. We couldn’t proceed and again turned around. The uncertainty of what was unfolding was most unsettling. We were trapped. We had been blocked and threatened in both directions. Civil unrest simmered, while political frustrations fueled ethnic conflict. Luckily, a few hundred meters back there was an army barracks. We pulled in and drove up to the heavily guarded gate to shelter with several other travelers who sought refuge from the uncertainty of the mob. A Kikuyu driver was hiding with his vehicle. He was clearly afraid. Fighting back tears, he said that he was forced to lock himself in his room and hide under his bed earlier in the day. Another group of Kikuyus fearing retribution from the frenzied mob, hid in a shelter near the barracks. I went and spoke to them. They were terrified. The soldiers guarding the base assured us protection.

No cars were moving. Then the mob went on a rampage, and started raiding shops and homes on the road a few hundred meters in front of us. One man ran for his life. I was sure I was about to witness him being beaten to death. I witnessed his beating, but he managed to get up and run. His attackers didn’t pursue. We stood there, with our ringside seats to this sick event, paralyzed by this sudden onslaught of violence. Now I know this was not an isolated incident. It was merely the start to a bloodletting that has been going on for three days. After several hours of remaining in the shadows of soldiers who had assured us protection, the crowd dispersed and cars started to move again. We waited a while and then also proceeded, wheeling back onto the road to Kitale.

I studied my Kenya map and found several rough roads that went east and south, avoiding towns and villages. It was the only way to get back to where we came from and away from the violence, without passing through Eldoret. The day was getting late and we needed to be off the road by nightfall. We were staying in touch with other friends and colleagues around the country who were also bracing for whatever was coming. Thankfully our cell phones continued to work. JP pushed the Landcruiser hard as we raced south towards Iten, and then into the Kerio Valley. We climbed up the eastern side of the valley and entered the town of Kabarnet. Things were quiet, but a clear tension was felt. The interactions on the street were not those of a typical day at dusk in a rural Kenyan town. Something was amiss, astir. We filled up with diesel and considered our options. Two other friends were already camping within the compound of a hotel next to Lake Bogoria. They were about an hour away and had reported no problems in their area. Deciding it was the best option, we blasted out of town and slipped down towards the village of Marigat in darkness. Within an hour we reached the Lake Bogoria Hotel where our friends were camping. We put up our tents and began swapping stories.

The results

On December 30^th, 3 days after the election and the day after violent protests began spreading around the nation, rumors circulated that the ECK’s chairman was finally going to announce the presidential winner. We went inside the hotel and watched the news for hours with dozens of other concerned Kenyans staying at the hotel. No announcement came. Tension increased as ODM supporters became convinced that the delays were intentional, to give the ECK, in cahoots with Kibaki’s PNU, an opportunity to manipulate the votes. The day before, Odinga had been leading by over 1 million votes. Mid morning on the 30^th, his lead had decreased to only 50,000 votes. Roughly 10 million votes were cast out of 14 million registered voters in a country of almost 40 million people. By mid afternoon the ECK held a press conference to announce the winner. In the course of doing it, opposition politicians (particularly ODM Pentagon member William Ruto) became incensed and stood up vociferously challenging the ECK’s results, stating that they didn’t match the official results from polling stations around the country. General Service Unit soldiers were forced to intervene to calm the situation and to escort the ECK chairman out of the press conference. The media were ordered out. ODM held an impromptu press conference. Odinga addressed the nation. A senior ECK official came forward, on live television, testifying to vote rigging and manipulation that he had witnessed. Then, conveniently, there was a power outage in the building where all this was unfolding. When it came back on, the ECK Chairman Kivuitu read from the results from a private room. Kibaki was announced the winner. Chaos erupted around the nation. Little villages and towns from each province went up in flames as a disillusioned populace protested what they perceived as a theft of the presidency. All indications suggest that the election was not free and fair. People have come forward and stated they saw corruption and rigging. Interestingly, the constituencies where there were delays were mostly from Central Province, Kibaki’s stronghold. ODM swept at least 12 senior PNU MPs and Ministers out of office and established a clear majority in Parliament.

Within 20 minutes the news cut to State House where a tiny audience of PNU MPs (most who had just been defeated) witnessed Kibaki’s swearing in. We watched in disbelief at the shameless manner in which a clique of people were clinging to power, living out their lives of luxury, while the shattered dreams of the nation sparked a violent fury and set longstanding friends and neighbors against one another. Ethnic groups splintered and sought protection from their communities. Shops were looted; riot police stormed onto the street, roads were blocked, and areas quickly became deserted ghost towns.

The death toll began to rise as reports came in from around the nation. Today estimates say at least 200 people have been killed. I am sure it is higher. Doctors have been unable to get to hospitals, medical supplies are limited, fuel has run out at most stations. Even Uganda is experiencing a fuel crisis, since all petrol is trucked overland to Uganda from Kenya. The trucks aren’t moving. In groceries stores around the country people are waiting in line for up to 4 hours to buy basic commodities if there is anything left.

On January 1^st, a mob of angry youths surrounded a small church where 30 Kikuyus were seeking protection in the town of Eldoret. The church was set ablaze and everyone perished. The few who escaped were chased down and hacked to death. Thousands of Kenyans have fled over the border in Busia and Malaba (into Uganda) and into Tanzania at Namanga. As many as 80,000 Kenyans are internally displaced, having been forced to seek protection at army barracks or police stations fearing ethnic violence. The Kenyan military and the International Red Cross are mobilizing efforts to get food, water, and humanitarian aid to those who have fled the violence. This brutality is rooted in socioeconomics and history. There is nothing inherently “violent” or “aggressive” about one particular ethnic group, as I hear so many people saying. Identity and culture are strong factors that strengthen bonds within a tribe and cause a splintering among different tribes. When people are poor and have little to lose, the perceived prize – having a president of the same tribe – takes on a meaning that is not readily understood by those not born into a life of abject poverty and suffering. Thus, the violence is brutal, but it is not inexplicable. No society or person is above or beyond this grim forces that grip Kenya.

If we look to the United States, there are clear parallels to our ancestor’s treatment of the indigenous people that they met when settling the East Coast and moving west in the spirit of Manifest Destiny. Power differentials, access to technology and resources, and a dangerous sense of entitlement has almost exterminated the American Indian, in just a few hundred years. The civil rights movement saw violent protests, riots, looting, and ethnic cleansing. Those in power tried to forcefully maintain a system that legally separated and discriminated those from a certain ethnic community. There was ethnic cleansing as certain members of the white community specifically targeted, with the intention to terrorize and kill, members of the African American community. Look no further than the Rodney King riots in LA. A city suddenly exploded over ethnic lines. Viewed through this comparative lens, it is fair to say that Kenya’s history has been much more stable and less violent than that of the United States. I wish people would make this consideration when they read my observations and shake their heads thinking “Africa – when will they stop killing each other.” This is not about Africans. It’s about humans. It’s about our capacity for violence and what we do with it. It’s about cultivating circumstances where violent outbreaks are not conducive. It’s about governments allowing for freedom of expression and allowing citizens to voice their opinions through the ballot box. It’s about ethics. It’s about striving to recognize our differences and embracing them, not tearing each other apart over them.

The Aftermath

As the roads were blocked and violence continued in the towns we had to travel through to get back to Nairobi, we continued camping at the Lake Bogoria Hotel for the next 4 nights. We had access to a television inside the hotel, so we could monitor the situation. The ODM is calling for a rally today at Uhuru Park in Nairobi. Odinga hopes one million people turn up to protest the elections. If there is going to be a surge in violence it is going to be today. The government has banned the gathering and there will be a very heavy military and police presence in Nairobi. We saw a window of opportunity to travel yesterday, so packed up and got on the road by 7:00 a.m. for the 5 drive down the Rift Valley and back to Nairobi. The streets were empty. We saw a few convoys traveling with a police escort vehicle. We were in two cars and stayed close together, monitoring the roads and checking with local sources as we proceeded. We stopped to buy petrol and commodities on the way to Nairobi. Most shops were empty, and had no fuel. We found one shop that had petrol and diesel. We filled our tanks and several jerry cans and continued south. Just passed the old Naivasha road we saw cars turning around and flashing their lights. Roadbloack. Protests. Rowdy youths. Potential violence. We were only 20 minutes from Nairobi but couldn’t continue on the main road. We turned around before getting to the roadblock and used the Limuru Road, slipping in safely through the backdoor to Nairobi.

Strangely, as is often the case in situations such as this, a semblance of normalcy has returned to Nairobi. People have gone back to work. There are cars on the street. The sun is shining. Some stores are open. But there is a tension, an uncertainty, a feeling of anger and disappointment hangs in the air. While I walk down the street in Nairobi, I see street sweepers and vendors, taxi drivers and newspaper salesmen. But I also know, people are still hiding and suffering, people feel hunted, the displaced are in need of assistance. Business owners are picking up the pieces after major losses from looting. Riot police and soldiers are assembling at strategic roads into town and cordoning off Uhuru park. ODM has said the rally is on. The government has said it is illegal. I am not sure what the masses will do. Will they act in defiance? Will they be cowed by threats? Will they stay home? Will they assemble?

What I do know is this: Kenya has stumbled, but it has not fallen. This nation has proven its ability to lead, to peacefully coexist and to develop a vibrant economy. Developing a functioning, transparent democracy is a work in progress. It doesn’t happen overnight. No democracy is perfect, and democracy as a style of government is far from perfect. However it has proven to be the best we have. It allows the people to voice their desires. It holds leaders accountable. It ensures a more equitable distribution of wealth. It upholds human rights and sets off a force to counter autocratic, dictatorial tendencies that arise when leaders become addicted to the power of their positions.

The primary solution to Kenya’s current problem is this: The presidential results should be scrutinized at the highest level. The Kenyan people have no confidence in the transparency and legitimacy of the electoral process. This lack of confidence has led to severe anger and frustration that is manifesting itself through ethnic conflict. To blatantly shatter the will of the majority, to make a sham of democracy, and to ignore the standards for free and fair elections, is a recipe for disaster. That is what has happened. It is my hope that this ends as suddenly and shockingly as it started, so the people of Kenya can concentrate on developing their lives and their country, instead of tearing them apart.