Nairobi’s cultural mosaic shattered
NAIROBI: Kenyan President Mwai Kibaki’s disputed re-election and subsequent violence have poisoned tribal relations in Nairobi, with the once harmonious capital now a hotbed of mutual suspicion.
Members of Kibaki’s Kikuyu tribe fear new attacks from rival ethnic groups and do not speak their language in the street any more. Some businesses have not reopened since the peak of the unrest which has left more than 600 dead across the country.
In front a large Nairobi hotel, taxis are back in their usual spots, but conversations between drivers seem less animated than usual, maybe because none dare to speak their own tribal dialect.
“It’s not like before. We don’t speak Kikuyu or Luo anymore. We’re not free ... Clearly the tribal issue is one everyone’s minds now,” said Edward, 41.
“I hope the tourists come back quick and the politicians start talking to each other, otherwise some wounds will never heal,” he said.
When Kibaki was declared the winner last week of the Dec 27 presidential polls, deadly clashes erupted across the country, targeting mainly Kikuyus in western opposition strongholds.The usually peaceful east African nation became the scene of bitter ethnic violence that saw 35 people burnt alive in a church, and villagers hacked to death by their neighbours.
According to police, at least 600 people have died since polling day, either in action against rioters and looters by the security forces, or in ethnically-driven tit-for-tat killings.
The bulk of the victims died in the first two days after the Dec 30 announcement of Kibaki’s re-election.
While a degree of normalcy has returned to Nairobi, the trauma is still in evidence in the city’s sprawing slums which bore the brunt of the violence.
In the Mathere slum, Kikuyu residents hunkered down in little groups, fearing further reprisals from opposition supporters, mainly members of the Luo tribe of opposition leader Raila Odinga.
“We don’t speak Kikuyu in the streets any more and some parts of Mathare we cannot even go to without risking our lives now,” said Steve, a 29-year-old who used to eke out a living on day jobs in the construction sector.
“The Luos say Raila has won. Even the Kikuyus know that, but it’s not a reason to start a war... We want peace but we also have weapons and we are not cowards,” he adds, raising his voice as a Luo walked by.
A handful of Kikuyu still proclaim their tribal roots proudly. Sporting a bright red pro-Kibaki T-shirt, Amos is one of them: “Kikuyus made this country and will continue fighting for freedom,” he said.
Kimanzi Mutuku, a 35-year-old trained pharmacist, said life will never be the same.
“The enmity will remain for a long time. Many people here will live with a feeling of revenge for the relatives they have lost in the violence, the property they have lost,” he said.
“In Kenya, tribalism was never a problem but it has become a problem. Our unity is gone, there will be less interaction”.
In the short-term, the violence has caused millions of Kenyans to lose two weeks’ income. Fuel and basic goods are in short supply and large swathes of property has been destroyed.
Some businesses have not re-opened for fear of being looted and relations between employers and staff are being strained by tribal issues.
“Do you really think a Luo employer will employ a Kikuyu again in Mathare? And vice-versa?” asks Mutuku. “You know, we are so poor here that it doesn’t take much to shatter someone’s life,” he says.—AFP