What Kenya is this?

Ngong Town,

January 3, 2008

Surreal.

I drove from Naivasha to Nairobi, then to Kiserian yesterday afternoon.

The lines at the row of banks in Naivasha were long, and most ATMs were out of money. There was no diesel in the pumps. The supermarket, on the other hand, was fully stocked, except that the smallest denomination of phone credit they had was 1000 shillings. People were calm, but looked tired and seemed frustrated. I had planned to bring plenty of groceries with me, in case shops in and around Nairobi were still shut or empty, but found out by phone that things were opening again.

The sun was shining and hot. I decided to pass through Maai Mahiu, in case there was anything going on there I could get a look at it. The road was peculiarly empty. Normally there are trains of lorries hauling various goods and products between Mombasa and Kampala. Even passenger cars and matatus were scarce.

I climbed the escarpment. The Rift Valley floor below, as always, looked peaceful and dry. Road blocks along the way were unmanned. It was like a usual Sunday, except that it was Wednesday.

As I approached the usual police road block near Kikuyu town, I prepared for being stopped and asked for a bribe based on some non-existent, inane law that had 'just been gazetted.' It's happened before, on more than one occasion. But I have lately had good luck with the roadblock, either passing through without being stopped, or talking my way out of even giving a bribe.

I was waved down. A matatu was just behind me, I thought it might be him they were stopping. I stopped anyways. The officer approached my window from behind the car, smiling.

“Habari za Mkubwa?”

“sio mbaya.”

“Habari ya mwaka mpya?”

“What?”

“How is the new year?”

“Oh, fine. I didn't hear you properly, I thought you said 'Gambia'”

“You are from where? Tanzan---”

“From Naivasha right now. It's okay there. No diesel and no money, but no problems”

“Ah, fine, well, have a safe drive. Things are looking better today. Problems will be over soon.”

Following Waiyaki Way into the city, I noticed that Kangemi Market was about half full of sellers and shoppers. A good sign. I decided to go right down to the Central Business District, pass Uhuru Park, and see how things looked.

I passed Westlands and saw the usual jam of vehicles and throng of people entering the area for shopping and work. Just like Nairobi, I thought.

I continued on through very light traffic. Like a Sunday morning. There were a few hawkers at the roundabout at University Way. A few more at the next roundabout. I continued on. Pedestrians were crossing into town over Uhuru Highway. Things looked quiet, but normal. The only difference I saw was that Uhuru Park was hosting large numbers of GSU troops, in their typical maroon berets, lounging or strolling in groups of 2, 3, 5, or 10. The road which leads through the park was blocked by stones, a space wide enough for one vehicle to pass had been left. The only vehicles inside were carrying soldiers.

I followed Ngong Road, through Community, where numerous government ministries have their headquarters. The parking lots full. The bus and pedestrian traffic remarkably low. I expected to see signs of the now subsided riots as I passed some of the entries to Kibera. Nothing noticeable. Prestige Plaza, and Junction, two large shopping centres were full of cars and people. Normal. Surreal.

The only clear sign of anything abnormal I saw that day, other than the GSU, was a pile of ash at the junction of Magadi road and Ngong-Kiserian road in Kiserian town. Just days before, a pile of tires had propped up PNU posters and signboards. I don't know when it was burned.

*

Today, I woke up to a bright blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. By 10 am, the heat was noticeable. I hadn't slept well the night before. Not because of stress or fear, but because of a stomach bug I think I picked up (yet again) in Enoosupukia. Giardia is one of my closest friends now.

The Kenyan television stations are now broadcasting live and making a lot of reports. So far, so good.

Then a report on the radio that GSU and ODM supporters from Kibera were in a standoff on Mbagathi Way, near City Mortuary. The roads were closed. People were not to go to the city centre. Uhuru Park was ringed by GSU paramilitary troops. People were not able to get to work. Finally, a brief report that protesters and troops have clashed.

I leave the house, driving towards Karen, following the Kiserian-Ngong Road. At the high point on the road, just before entering Ngong town, I notice a strangely shaped mountain on the horizon. Jagged peaks on one side and a more smooth ridge on the other. I look again. I don't recognize this one. Is it smoke in the far distance? No, can't be. It's definitely a mountain.

The day was so clear that Mt Kenya, usually shrouded with clouds by this time of the morning, and rarely visible from here in the first place, was clear. The highest peak is about 130 km in a straight line from Ngong town. On an extremely good day, you can see Mt Kenya, Mt Kilimanjaro, and the Aberdare Ranges, but only if it's rained the night before and you find yourself in just the right spot. By 11:30, thin wisps of dark cloud were beginning to gather above the highest peaks. It wouldn't be long before it was obscured completely.

*

Kenyan media stations, now apparently allowed to broadcast live again after an initial ban and censorship, have been sending out messages of peace. “Save our Nation” they say, seemingly in unison. Both major daily newspapers have the same headline. Bring out nation back from the brink of chaos. We love it too much to lose it over politics. No man or party is bigger than Kenya, and we must not allow the country to break in half over a political dispute.

What bizarre version of Kenya is this? Just a week ago it was unimaginable that messages like that would be necessary on local media despite a heated political campaign and ever-simmering, but rarely exploding, ethnic tensions. Open letters to leaders, calling for both to step back from their hardline positions, one that the election was 'free and fair' the other that it was stolen from him.

Besides the save our nation messages, the news is awash with pictures of police beating people, water cannons firing at protesters, looters loading televisions onto bicycles, civilians chasing each other with pangas, burning or burned structures, etc, etc. Many of them are being recycled and re-run. Kenya has just recently gotten a 24hour news station (K24). There's so much time to fill. Bizarre, with all the violence and unrest in various spots in the country, I'm seeing people go about their business.

A group of gospel musicians, with Kiss 100 character Nyambane (a comedian who I can scarcely imagine has had a serious moment in his life) as their spokesman, presents a statement on behalf of Kenyan entertainers. They sing:

WaKenya

pamoja

na upendo na amani

(Kenyans, together, with love and peace).

Surreal. This is not the Kenya that I know.