Jared Diamond's romantic essentialism: on "traditional" dispute resolution and legal pluralism

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In his recent interview on the Colbert Report  to promote his most recent book, Jared Diamond makes some troubling assertions about “traditional” societies, by which he means “the societies that were all societies around the world until relatively recently when population grew and we started to have state government.” 

           

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His first example of life in “traditional societies” is from the exotic and untouched locale of rural Montana, where he and his family vacation. In this traditional society, disagreements between ranchers are not solved through lawyers or the police, but rather among themselves, “just as people did traditionally.”

This seems to conflict with elements of his new book, which reviewers and Papuan “tribal leaders” have called out his for claims that the “traditional” societies of Papua New Guinea are better off as a result of the role of the modern state, mainly because state intervention allows them to stop using bloody feuding as a dispute resolution mechanism – if Montana ranchers used those “traditional” methods of settling greivances, presumably there would be fewer Montana ranchers, and Diamond would celebrate the state rather than their “pre”-state practices.

Diamond's statements in this case also demonstrate a lack of awareness of decades of research on legal pluralism, which anthropologists understand as the operation of multiple legal practices and principles within and between social groups, and basic anthropological ideas about complex political systems.

Diamond makes a number of entangled errors in his example of interpersonal dispute resolution among Montana ranchers. First, he presumes that non-state or non-bureaucratic processes are not just non-modern but pre-modern, or, in his words, “traditional.” This recalls the theories of unilinear evolution proposed by some of our illustrious anthropological ancestors, most notably Lewis Henry Morgan. Morgan's well-known framework for classifying and comparing different societies was impressive for its time, but it was also flawed, not least because he presumes deviance from the social institutions of modern civilization to signify older, lower stages of social evolution along the road to the present-day pinnacle. Diamond appears to reproduce this conceptual shortcoming, implying that “traditional” practices in otherwise modern settings are vestiges of a time before civilization, not least in the title of his book, The World Before Yesterday.

But in what sense are “traditional” practices of non-bureaucratic dispute resolution – that is, those that operate on an interpersonal level without involvement of professional specialists like police, lawyers, or government officials – evolutionarily or historically prior to the modern, presumably non-traditional mechanisms that predominate in large-scale, complex, stratified societies? Perhaps only in that we infer that they were practiced in their present forms prior to the existence of states because we have observed them operating in societies often classified by anthropologists as stateless. This points to Diamond's second error: implying a clear distinction between “traditional” and modern practices at work in a single contemporary society, or even between traditional societies subsumed under but still sufficiently autonomous from the system of states that covers the vast majority of the planet.

Here Diamond's example of traditional practices in contemporary Montana connect with my own research on land tenure and conflict in Kenya. One of the issues I have studied, and am in the process of writing more about, is the way that different principles and practices of negotiating control and access to resources are entwined in people's lives. For example, my main field site in rural Kenya has been undergoing official land registration for more than thirty years, and unofficial adoption of principles of private property, including ideas about the sale or lease of land rights, for more than forty. In practice, there is an official, bureaucratic process for registering ownership and transactions through title deeds and government offices, and there is an unofficial set of practices whereby people make arrangements outside of the official channels, negotiating deals and resolving disputes by means that Diamond might call “traditional.”

But again, what is “traditional” about these practices? Is it simply that they are not officially sanctioned by government agents? In fact, many of these interpersonal arrangements make use of modern concepts like individual private ownership of land, the exchange of cash or other currencies for temporary or permanent transfer of rights in land, and the use of written documents, signed by witnesses, to record these non-sanctioned agreements. Here, then, it seems that what is “traditional” is simply the avoidance of the state, regardless of motive.

Whether people use official or unofficial - “modern” or “traditional” - means to convey rights in land is a matter of choice, situated in a multitude of factors and considerations. For some, using official land conveyance is too expensive, slow, or impersonal and suggestive of distrust between parties; for others, unofficial channels are too risky or expensive over the long-term. What is not happening, is the existence of two historically distinct sets of practices, one unchanged since time immemorial, and the other new, bureaucratic, cumbersome, and impersonal.

In fact, Diamond's reproduction and repackaging of evolutionary explanations of cultural difference (he does, after all, correct Colbert by saying that “primitive” is no longer a politically-correct term, subtly making his concept of “traditional societies” nothing more than a euphemism) is theoretically weaker than concepts of legal pluralism that have been around since before Diamond reimagined himself as an anthropologist. Where Diamond sees vestiges, I see multiple, co-existing ways of solving fundamental political and legal problems. Where Diamond places these different approaches in temporal sequence, I – and many other anthropologists – understand them as co-evolving elements of complex, dynamic systems.

One problematic implication of Diamond's approach is that it risks relegating those who use “traditional” practices to an inferior status. Despite his effort to illustrate how traditional societies often do things better than modern ones, his association of formal, secular, bureaucratic practices with modernity, and informal, socially-embedded, face-to-face practices with tradition, reproduces old, ethnocentric binaries of savage and civilized, primitive and modern, subject and citizen. Locating the world's remaining traditional societies in some of the most remote places - “parts of New Guinea and the Amazon Basin” - Diamond's message remains one of a disappearing world, from which we must learn before it is too late; nevermind, of course, that these out-of-the-way places tend to be home to some of the most marginalized communities on the planet, who often end up in the way of an expanding modern world system, who are not untouched or undeveloped, but rather pressured and shaped by modernity and actively underdeveloped through unequal political-economic relations. Given Diamond's position, how are we – the modern – meant to interpret the adoption, appropriation, and transformation of “modern” practices by “traditional societies”? If the traditional can be modernized – and presumably de-natured and destroyed – can the modern be traditionalized, or is this a one-way street?

Diamond's ongoing attempt to be the world's best-known cultural anthropologist fails again – in anthropological eyes – due to his romantic essentialism and ethnological reasoning (thank you, Jean-Loup Amselle), by which traditional practices and whole traditional societies are extracted from complex social fabrics in which traditional and modern practices and principles are actually articulated and appropriated by people trying to make sense of and produce order in their lives. The “traditional” and the “modern” are not two distinct ways of living, but rather one reductionist way of simplifying complex social relations into categories that resonate with popular received wisdom.

Where Diamond's unilinear evolutionary perspective falls short, more nuanced interpretations of socio-cultural phenomena – such as those arrived at with concepts of legal, political, social, institutional pluralism – can succeed. And yet, there is one area where Diamond remains more successful than most anthropologists: having his story packaged into an easily digestible, compelling explanation that captures the imagination of a wide audience. Anthropologists have long seen and lamented the things that Jared Diamond gets wrong; what can we learn from what he does right, and how can we do it better?

Vultures in Nairobi; or, the problem with political symbols; being part of a work in progress on patronage and electoral politics in Kenya

Over the past few weeks, avian symbols of avarice have been appearing by night on prominent public spaces in Nairobi's central business district. Accompanied by text condemning corruption and stating the preferred qualities of clean leaders, beautifully painted murals on prominent walls have featured caricatures equating Kenyan politicians with vultures. These razor-beaked, carrion-eating birds are portrayed in suits, sometimes with attache cases labelled “Stolen Loot.” As far as street art goes, this is some of the most overtly political stuff there is. I love the work – also, I openly admit harbouring a growing fascination with political street art – and I appreciate the anti-corruption sentiment. But I question the choice of symbols and the narrow focus on politicians. It is far too simple an attack to blame current and past leaders for Kenya's political troubles – doing so ignores how deeply entrenched patronage relations are in this country (and in many others), and overlooks the important role of clients who participate in the perpetuation of the politics of the belly and who must also be held responsible for reform.

To contemporary Western eyes, the vulture is an immediately recognizable symbol of corruption and greed. The link here draws on our association of vultures with death and the consumption of deceased bodies – perhaps even human [what desert Western would be complete without a flock of buzzards, circling our protagonists thirst-ridden body collapsed in the sand?]. It hasn't always been so – New-Agey website What's Your Sign lists a number of noble traits, including loyalty, patience, and renewal, based on both observation and interpretation and some historical accounts of vulture symbolism in ancient cultures - Egyptian, Roman, Mayan. But in this era of “vulture capitalists” and anti-greed sentiment – even in America! - the implication is unmistakable.

These murals first came to my attention at the beginning of March through the Daily Nation and they've been hastily covered by municipal employees. The first mural, which appeared one night on the white wall of City Market, shows a smirking vulture, enthroned in front of the Parliament building, with a thought-bubble revealing that “I’m a tribal leader; they loot, rape, burn and kill in my defence while I steal their taxes and grab land, but the idiots will still vote for me.” Beside him a litany of sins are listed – from land grabbing and assassinations to well-known scandals such as Anglo-Leasing and Goldenberg. On the far side of ominous looking Parliament, a crowd of protesting Kenyans call their leader to account.

A second mural, this time on the exterior of a public toilet, features a gender-diverse trio of vultures and an assignment, “Describe your MP vulture,” surrounded by a list of disparaging terms, surprisingly (perhaps only to me) including “douchebags.”

According to a feature article in the Lifestyle section of Sunday's Daily Nation, the statements are the work of a group of graffiti artists, part of a project called Kenya ni Kwetu (Kenya is Ours). The motivation is explicitly political. In the story, project “coordinator,” CNN Africa Photojournalist of the Year (2008 and 2010), Boniface Mwangi – who, by the way, produced some absolutely shocking and compelling images documenting the 2007-8 post-election violence – explains that: “This is pointed at the ruling elite, the demigods who have taken advantage of us and capitalised on every Kenyan weakness to have their way.” The goal is to raise awareness and outrage, and to encourage Kenyans to effect change with their votes, so that when they go to the ballot-box they will not forget the pot-holed roads, grabbed land, looted public institutions, and the violence that has been visited upon them by self-interested leaders.

This message should play well among a certain class – and I specifically mean the emerging middle-class – of educated, upwardly-mobile, Nairobi-based young people. But it simplifies the situation and ignores the social relations on which the patronage state in Kenya has developed and is maintained. My experience in this regard is in rural Kenya, in a marginalized community characterized by hardship – i.e. grinding poverty and persistent insecurity – but I am confident it resonates with the experience of the urban poor. In the 2007 election campaigns, I was fascinated by the ways that impoverished, disempowered voters sought to make and cultivate connections with political aspirants, and how they exhorted them to “bring development.” That is, they pleaded with their potential representatives to redirect flows of state resources back to the locality, to help gain security of land tenure, build schools and dispensaries, obtain scholarships for students, and improve roads.

This is a familiar demand in Kenya. MPs sometimes justify their exorbitant salaries on the argument that they are required to contribute personal money during Harambees [public fund-raising events] in their constituencies, leaving them broke come pay-day – neglecting of course to admit a) that they accrue tremendous political capital from such events by performing as patrons and providing for their clients, and b) that they are widely understood to be misappropriating government funds and other resources to not only meet these needs but to enrich themselves and build a base for personal investments. Leaders of all sorts, from parliamentarians to county councilors to the president, as well as appointed administrative officials, civil servants, private-sector professionals, and even non-profit executives and staff in NGOs and CBOs, are judged in part on how well they support their constituencies – in this case not the residents of an electoral district but rather a client base that may be connected by blood, clan, ethnicity, language, or simply a history of asymmetrical reciprocity. And the demands do not stop at those services which a bureaucratic state is expected to provide for its citizens; they may extend to the onerous, the absurd, or the blatantly unjust.

The effectiveness of the vulture as a signifier for corruption comes from our understanding that he is a selfish bird – preying on the damaged or deceased, gluttonously consuming as much as possible and vomiting semi-digested meat in self-defense, and fighting with his own and other kinds to get a share of the rotting carcass. But the weakness of this symbol – and this is the problem and the power of metaphors: they suggest and they approximate, but they never completely equate the targets of comparison – is that it fails to capture the many smaller scavengers who depend on, or at least benefit from, the Kenyan politician's misappropriation of public goods and neglect for the public interest. And until the needs of those clients are met, until their expectation that good leadership constitutes distributing the spoils of electoral victory is altered, simply targeting and neutralizing members of the “ruling elite” will have little impact.

The blame game, or, how to avoid dealing with deeper issues

Another one from the BBC, which is now reporting that key people in Kibaki's government called on the Mungiki to 'protect' Kikuyu residents in the Rift Valley. The article alleges that Mungiki leaders were called to official government offices by senior people in the administration and given the duty to head down to various Rift Valley towns to carry out attacks on non-Kikuyu living there. The pattern certainly seems to fit something like that, especially the wave of battles in Nakuru and Naivasha in late January. Other Mungiki sources are saying that it was a renegade faction which carried out those activities, and not the main group. That's not a great sign, if indeed it's true, that Mungiki is decentralized enough for factions to be used by different people in different ways. It's the kind of situation that could create a kind of Kikuyu civil war if left unchecked. Of course, there are many Kenyans who would say 'fine, let them kill themselves' as they did when the government was waging open war on Mungiki in mid-2007, but those Kenyans would then be choosing to ignore the risk to national stability...

Now, I expect it will only be a matter of time before similar, very specific claims are made with regard to ODM and the gangs which carried out some of the earlier violence in places like Eldoret, if in fact they haven't already been made. The vague allegations have certainly been published already.

On one hand, it would be great to try to pursue charges against any leaders who are found to have done something like this. Whether it's PNU/Kikuyu leaders and Mungiki, or any others, it's an important aspect of the potential for ethnic conflict in Kenya, and if it's taken away, it will be harder for such clashes to go on without people being held accountable.

On the other hand, going after political leaders as the main cause of ethnic conflict in Kenya is both an easy way out and a way to ensure that nothing really changes. Kenya, the state, has repeatedly shown itself unwilling or unable to actually prosecute leaders who mobilize or utilize ethnicity to promote or carry out violence for political ends. The legacy of the clashes of the 1990s is a testament to this. Further, going after political elites and/or telling them they need to be responsible and not take advantage of the conducive situations for such political uses of ethnicity (as was done in the Akiwumi Commission's report on tribal clashes), ignores the fact that something must be done about those conducive situations.

To simply ask politicians, and threaten them with incarceration or fines, or whatever other measures of censure might be used, to resist inciting people along ethnic lines, especially when they rely on their communities for votes in every election, is yet another way of keeping deeper problems locked in the closet. The rattling bones of the giant skeleton of ethnicity, land disputes, and poverty will not simply disintegrate when politicians stop mentioning them in public. Ordinary Kenyans are not mindless followers who will just agree when politicians fabricate greivances or ethnic animosities. Nor will they simply forget their history, and the many legitimate complaints they have which sometimes derive from the past indulgences of leaders taking advantage of state power for the benefit of their patronage networks.

The most serious mistake that the government can make in the next few months would be to set up a system of dealing with this round of violence and politics without making any provisions for finally trying to open the debates about what many Kenyans call 'historical greivances' and which date back as far as the colonization of East Africa by the British.

Let's make a deal

Montreal, February 28

More news today, bringing a sigh of relief. The power sharing deal has been signed in a public ceremony. The basics are that the each party will get cabinet posts reflecting its numbers in parliament, and there will be a Prime Minister (for the first time since 1964) and two Deputy PMs. The PM will, according to the report: have "authority to co-ordinate and supervise the execution of government functions". A little vague.

Great first step, and only two months overdue.

Well, actually, more like 10 years overdue, but that's a whole other story.

I fully expect Kenya to recede from international headlines now, as it had already done to a large extent because there was no sexy violence going on for reporters to cover. What this will mean for the rest of a program of reform is very unclear.

In a way, I don't imagine Kenyan leaders moving forward or making much progress without international pressure to keep things going. There's a lot of opportunity to just stall and stall and stall, unless at least one of the main players (I'll speculate, optimistically, that it'll be ODM) keeping up the pressure and using its position to leverage some of the reforms they want to make.

As far as violence goes, it remains to be seen how well this political agreement will be received by the masses, and by the makeshift and not so makeshift ethnic gangs that carried out a lot of the attacks. If they see it as a reasonable agreement, things should remain calm and get better. If, for some reason, either side sees it as threatening their position (and I would speculate that this might come from Kibaki's "supporters"), we might see more clashes. I think it's unlikely in the short term, but what do I know?

I suppose the image of Raila and Kibaki, Luo and Kikuyu, agreeing to work and live together is a positive one for Kenya.

Without further reform, this deal will essentially be meaningless.

Communication breakdown

Montreal, February 26


The BBC is reporting that the mediation talks in Kenya have been suspended. This is not altogether unexpected, given that the discussions which seemed to be proceeding so well over the past couple of weeks hit some serious snags over the past seven to ten days. The main sticking point, it appears, is the powers to be associated with a new position of Prime Minister, and how that person is to be selected.

The ODM wants an executive prime minister, whose job will be created through a constitutional amendment, and who will be selected through General Election (that is, the leader of the party with the most seats in Parliament will automatically become the PM). They want this person to have a fair amount of power in directing government business in Parliament, just like many other PMs around the world, which would remove some of the executive powers from the imperial Presidency that Kenya currently has in place.

The PNU disagrees with this, and while they apparently agreed to the creating of a PM post last week, they have argued that the PM should be a simple cabinet member, to be appointed (and fired) by the President, more or less at will. This, they say, should be done through a simple act in Parliament.

Kofi Annan, trying to reassure everyone involved (including those of us keeping score at home), has said that the talks have not 'broken down' but that he has temporarily suspended discussions so he can meet directly with Raila and Kibaki to try to move things along more quickly than their negotiating teams will allow.

ODM, meanwhile, has called for mass, peaceful, public demonstrations to be held on Thursday. They made the call late last week when it looked like talks were going to get seriously bogged down on the power-sharing issue, and formally notified the police on Monday evening. Now, from what I can tell, there should be no reason for the police to disallow the protests, since the blanket ban on political meetings appears to have been withdrawn, and the ODM have followed the necessary steps by providing notice three days in advance. Of course, a protest in Kenya, even if it's intended to be peaceful, is a risky proposition for public safety and maintaining order. Whether thugs from either side will try to use the mob effect to stir up serious trouble, or the police decide to bust things up for no apparent reason, things could easily get out of hand. Let's hope they don't. It's time to start a new precedent in public demonstrations in Kenya anyways.

This whole situation is a bit absurd.

First of all, ODM and Raila are basically negotiating to get themselves a stake in governing the country with a regime that effectively stole the election. At first, it seemed to be about trying to come up with a resolution to the crisis that would likely see a short-term transitional phase to oversee constitutional reform and a new election. Now the transitional aspect of it seems to be more in doubt.

Second, Raila and ODM appear to be basically willing to settle for a Prime Minister's post, if it has enough executive power and is entrenched by a constitutional amendment, despite earlier having rejected outright the possibility of even entertaining an offer. That's fine, I suppose, but they have to know that unless things are done quickly and with enough legal weight to make them stick, there's a pretty good chance that Kibaki and his team will do what they did in 2003: break the agreement at the earliest opportunity and continue to make use of their power as they have been.

If these negotiations actually lead to fundamental, constitutional change in Kenya, Raila and ODM accepting the creation of an executive Prime Minister would be a potentially positive step. That would be better than having the presidential results overturned (or annuled) and then taking up office to perpetuate the same intentional neglect to effect reforms that Kenya saw after the NARC coalition came to power in 2003. But, if the PMship is being used as a tool to bring Raila into the fold of PNU, so to speak, and if he goes along with it, he will have proven once and for all that he's no better than the rest of the so-called leaders who have brought this crisis upon their people.

Meanwhile, if talks actually do break down, rather than being slowed down as Annan says, there's a very real threat of renewed violence. The uneasy calm that has prevailed since the beginning of February has given the ethnically oriented gangs of youth time to recharge their batteries. In a worst case scenario, they will also have taken the time to organize and prepare.

The first step to lasting peace and reform in Kenya is to prevent the thugs and gangs from getting an opportunity to cause further damage. That will require the 'leaders' to strengthen their resolve to solve the political crisis so that they can go on to the next steps: constitutional reform and a truth and reconciliation effort that goes as far back in time as necessary to deal with the root causes of these conflicts. The question is, can Kibaki and his team put their death-grip on power aside for the good of the nation, and can Raila and his team show a level of integrity that forces PNU to do so?

Stalemate

Montreal, February 7

The political stalemate continues in Kenya. After easy agreement on the fact that there's a humanitarian crisis in the country, the Kofi Annan mediation extravaganza hit a major roadblock (no burning tires or machetes here) by trying to address the elections. ODM says it was stolen, wants a change, and is suggesting a transitional government of some sort. PNU says there's no problem and ODM should have gone to court (but has now missed the opportunity because they didn't file a petition before the deadline to do so), and is refusing any suggestion of a re-run or a transition. They did, however, agree that there are fundamental problems with the Electoral Commission of Kenya which need to be addressed. Great work fellas.

What seems absurd, at the moment, is that people seem to believe that these same politicians can somehow control the 'rowdy youths' who periodically erect blockades or chase people from other tribes in (and out of) various rural parts of the country. It seems to me, watching from a distance as I am, that the politicians have little to no control over what goes on on the ground.

True, it would make a difference if they continued to promote peace and speak out against violence. That might convince some of the fence-sitters among the youth not to join in on fighting when it erupts. But the hardcore, some of whom may well be directed as parts of gangs which are controlled at the local level or more or less independently from the politicians who are almost always linked to them by rumour and innuendo, will not easily be swayed by words.

The underlying problems, tensions over resources that should be more linked to class and less linked to ethnicity, need to be addressed, and assuming that the political elite is in control of 'supporters' who are then sent out to attack opponents or 'enemies' will not help the situation. That's the legacy of the ethnic clashes of the 1990s, which were passed off as politically instigated and orchestrated while it should have been clear to almost everyone that it was not simply a matter of politicians running militias (although that was there, too), but far more complex.

Until Kenya sorts out the deeper issues, the potential for repeated explosions along ethnic lines, such as those that have happened over the past several weeks, will continue to exist.

The tough decision

Montreal, January 29

Over the weekend, I had to make one of the most difficult decisions I've faced in my life. Looking back at it from so close, it seems rather self-evident that this was the choice I'd have to make, but at the time, it was not clear to me at all.

When I met my supervisor on Friday, after hearing about the attacks in Nakuru and the fresh eruption of violence, I resigned myself to delaying my return to Kenya by a week or two, just enough time to let things settle down enough so I could get back to my research. It still looked like the 'leaders' were heading towards some sort of political solution (and maybe it still does, since Kofi Annan is still in the country, trying to bring the sides into negotiations). I made a quick call to my travel agent, who then informed me I could get a waiver on the flight change fees and make my return later.

By Sunday afternoon, things had become more serious, and far more sad. Over Saturday night, Naivasha began to experience the same kind of revenge attacks and assertions of control that Nakuru had seen over the previous few days. Fighting started in Karagita, a bedroom community of sorts, on the road between Naivasha and Kongoni, which I use to travel between Nairobi and my field site in the Mau Hills. I hoped it would simply be a riot and looting escapade. Phone calls from a colleague in London, where she had to go to get away before tensions burst in Naivasha, relaying information about what was going on convinced me that it wouldn't just fizzle out. By Monday morning, media were reporting more than 20 dead and countless injured, including at least two incidents in which fleeing families were burned alive in their homes.

The email from my supervisor suggested that I adopt a radical alternative plan. I should, he suggested, plan to stay here in Montreal until after my unalterable obligation in June, and only then return to Kenya to continue my field research. While here, I could begin writing my thesis, and devolop a focused plan of research for when I go back. Academically, the benefits are pretty obvious; I have the chance to spend time figuring out what I wish I'd done and asked over the past 10 months and then go do and ask it later (without having to apply my way into a post-doc!). From Nairobi, this would be difficult, if not impossible, and I would have the fixed end-date in late June looming over me, pressuring me, encouraging bad decisions.

Personally, and emotionally, none of it was obvious. I've spent months making friends, falling in love with communities and places, and letting Kenya take over a part of my being. I know there's not much I could do from inside Kenya, but there would be some comfort in at least being in the country, on the scene, with my friends. There's also an overwhelming sense of guilt that I am able to simply leave Kenya, even though my choice to leave was not made on the basis of the election fallout. Why do I get to enjoy this luxury of freedom and peace, while others risk their lives, basically due to accidents of birth.

I have now become more accustomed to the idea that I'll be spending five or six months back in Canada. It will be a challenge to sit here and watch, wait, and wonder if peace will return to Kenya, if my friends will all survive until I get the chance to see them again, if there will be any move towards a short-term resolution, let alone a long-term solution to the underlying problems that have led Kenya to the brink of collapse. All I can do for the moment is hope that the violence does not spread any further towards the communities in which I have lived. That the young and brave Dorobo and Maasai men whom I have spent time with, and their elders, have the wisdom to keep from rushing into battle before attempting to maintain peace. That others are not stupid enough to direct their rage and aggression towards a community that will gladly fight to protect themselves. That the so-called leaders whose actions have spawned this beast have the humility and courage to act now before more Kenyans die, before the country is reduced to ruins.

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Breaking news from Nairobi. The MP for Embakasi, Mugabe Were of the ODM has been gunned down outside his home. He was attacked by at least two men with guns and shot in the head and chest while he waited to drive into his compound. The police are calling it a murder, and have not ruled out political motives. I'm disgusted that another death has resulted from greed for political power, but I'm thankful that it wasn't a higher profile politician. Still, the fallout from this news will be disastrous, and I hope that this will make the elite realize they are not simply playing with the lives of the common Kenyan, but that they too are in grave danger, increasing with every day that this political stalemate continues. How many more must die before someone blinks?