House of Mumbi vs the Luo Nation: A tale of two opposing tribes

There is a very credible explanation on tribalism in Kenya, that it is just about a supremacy contest between the Kikuyus and Luos. The other tribes just coalesce around each of the two, depending on which group is more likely to advance their small tribe interests. Of course there is also the other hand of the argument, that tribalism in Kenya is simply anti-kikuyuism vs  Kikuyu self-preservation.

The Kikuyus and Luos do not really like each other. I have been fortunate enough to live among the two communities and they do not have very nice things to say about each other. The Luos believe the Kikuyus are selfish, money hungry and cannot be trusted. The Kikuyus on the other hand say Luos are lazy, unambitious and obsessed with hero worship. They say inside each stereotype there is some measure of truth.

Are Kikuyu’s a selfish lot who would easily betray another to advance their own interests? Are Luos unambitious and spend their days singing praises for those who excel in their community while individuals wallow in poverty?

In the olden days

The Kikuyus and Luos have two very different styles of leadership. In the olden days, the Kikuyus were ruled by several councils that consisted of different age-set based groupings with an established hierarchy. There was no individual sole ruler, according to Jomo Kenyatta’s Facing Mount Kenya, Kikuyus had overthrown a dictatorial supreme leader and come up with this form of leadership style to safe guard against one man’s madness.

The Kikuyus had a mantra of tribe above self. This meant that no single individual interest could surpass the collective tribal interest. In this regard, there are hardly any Kikuyu heroes of years past. When wars were won, there was no single hero but the win was taken as a collective win for all the Njambas of war. The retribution of selling out the community members to an enemy were more visible during the Mau Mau wars when lots of Kikuyus who were found out to have collaborated with the colonialist were killed in the most brutal ways. There was no forgiveness for the sin of putting the community in harm’s way.

The Luos on the other hand thrived on inspirations from community heroes. There are countless stories and songs of historical and mythical legends who are considered great men in the community. They were also led by ruoths who were individuals with chief like authority. These ruoths had the power to make unilateral decisions and lead the community to a certain direction, albeit consultations with the elders were also encouraged.

And Today..

The Kikuyus sense of self preservation is still very strong, especially in the wake of targeted economic sabotage of the 80’s and the murders in the Rift Valley that coincided with election years. This sense of self-preservation is the reason why they would seem (or are actually) selfish when choosing who they want as a political head. They easily sacrificed Uhuru Kenyatta in 2002 elections because they felt as a Moi project, he didn’t have the communities interests at heart. When the Mungiki, a tool previously used to fight off community foes proved dangerous to survival of the tribe, the members of House of Mumbi did the unthinkable. They flashed out the young men, their own sons, hanged them and others were sent to exile. Tribe above self, the poor fathers and mothers would mourn their children later, when peace had come back and the Mungiki removed.

This tendency to vanquish anything that stands in the way of the tribe has been viewed as selfish by the rest of Kenyan tribes.

The Luos on the other hand choose inspiration from individuals and this has sometimes been seen to jeopardize the entire community’s interests for the sake of day’s hero. The pride and joy the Luo people feel over the achievement of one called by their name has always baffled many. But to them, one man’s success is the whole community’s success. An insult to one single member of the community is an insult to the whole community. There is no single tribe in Kenya with so much music in praise of individuals as is with the Luo tribe. From Luanda magere, Gor Mahia Kogalo to Raila Odinga, Barack Obama. The pride the community has for its excelled sons and daughters in unmatched.

What this means for politics

For political mileage in Kenya, which is measured by the tribal numbers you bring in, the Luo model of one man leadership is very attractive to many politicians. It means that the tribal chief can determine single handedly the direction the community will take in the highly charged political arena. Compared to the Luhya (though grouped as one, they are a myriad of sub-tribes who were once ruled by independent kings/chiefs) or the Kamba who do not follow a single leader.

 In the 2013 elections, we saw a shift from the normal “What can you do for the tribe?” mindset among the Kikuyus to “We want a muthamaki (single, absolute ruler)” This shift propagated by the Kikuyu oligarchy was to ensure unquestioned support for Uhuru Kenyatta, who did not have the necessary qualifications to ensure continued economic prosperity, but was needed to protect the interests of the elite. Under the Uhuru presidency, more and more Kikuyu’s are becoming highly sensitive to any criticism directed at the president. This is vastly different from his predecessor Mwai Kibaki who was arguably a better president, he was widely criticized even by the Kikuyu’s themselves, without the need of want to “protect him”.

The Kenyatta family not only managed to “escape” punishment by the House of Mumbi for betraying them after independence, but have been immensely rewarded for this, and are now being protected heavily, to the detriment of the tribe and whole country at large.

P.S. I welcome links to books or websites shedding more light on the traditional Luo set up.

Is this Kenya’s Bluest Bloodline??

The uhuru Kenyatta presidency brought to light a new crop of socialites. Unlike the usual big bottomed, rags to middle class socialites, these are the true definition of socialites; kids borne of old wealth, with nothing substantial to add to the world except spend grand dad's coin.

Among this new crop of socialites is perhaps Kenya’s bluest “blue bloods”, the three Gecaga children. Move over Jomo, Jaba and Ngina, your half cousins have a higher pedigree than you three!!

 The Gecaga children; Jomo, Nana and Soiya were born to Udi Gecaga and Jeni Gecaga. This union was meant to unite some of the most powerful families in Kenya. True to the socialite mantra, Jomo and Nana dazzle the social scenes with top of the range cars, obscenely extravagant parties and thanks to nepotism, they are always getting freebies from uncle's government. Soiya however took the more 'normal' route and has her OWN little thing going.

Udi Gecaga is the son of one of the most distinguished blue chip company execs in Kenya, Mr B.M. Gecaga. The Makerere trained lawyer run top companies like BAT, Nation media and Kenya airways in the 60’s and 70’s. He was married to Ms. Jemimah Njoroge, who came from the powerful Njoroge-Leah Magana family. Her siblings were the likes of Jomo Kenyatta’s personal doctor, friend and cabinet member Dr. Njoroge Mungai and the decorated diplomat Mr Ngethe Njoroge (Who is the father of musician Tom Morello). Jemimah was one of the first women to be nominated to parliament and a founder of Maendeleo ya Wanawake. Mr. B.M. Gecaga was the son of J.M. Gecaga, one of the early christian converts in Kenya, a teacher by profession who also ventured into pre-colonial politics.

The trio’s mother, Ms. Jeni Gecaga is the product of two very powerful families. The Kenyatta family and the Koinange family, you do not get a higher pedigree than that in this country. She was the daughter of the first president Jomo Kenyatta and a daughter of Chief Koinange, Grace, who died while giving birth to Jeni. The union of Jomo and Grace was meant to unite these two families. This union ensured one of the Koinange son’s, Mbiyu rose to the most powerful position outside the presidency, in Kenya.

So, our three throughbreds are the products of four big and filthy rich families, The Gecaga’s, the Njoroge’s, the Kenyattas and the Koinanges. In Jeff’s voice, “It doesn’t get better than these!!”. The rich and powerful are very strategic when it comes to marriages. They do not let emotions determine who they marry, a more important factor is merging wealth and creating new loyalties. The above family must have borrowed a leaf from the famous Rothschild family. 

Another tip they picked from the family that owns the earth Rothschild family... “When you have little mating options, inbreed”! Yes Udi and Jeni are second cousins!!.

Remember Udi’s mother Jemimah? Her mother was Leah Magana. Leah was the sister to Jomo Kenyatta’s father, Muigai. Their father (Kenyatta’s grandfather) was the medicine man Kung’u wa Magana. So Jemimmah and Kenyatta were first cousins, and their children got married...:D

Sometimes, the best laid plans scuttle too, who knew the blood of a poor man, once accused of haboring jiggers and the blood of a self-confessed black magic witch would one day mix with this eugenics-ized blood??? Well..., Nana Gecaga bore two children with Kamango and Bishop Wanjiru’s son!! (Big up to the mistress schemer Wanjiru, Heeeey Girl!!) Aaaahh.. Now you know!

Of condoms and good girls: I am taking control of my sexual health

I stared into space as she explained reassuringly the procedure she was about to undertake. A tight knot was slowly forming in my stomach, this was the first time I was having a HIV test done knowingly.

“I need your details please, name and phone number.”

I shot her a look.

“Why? Isn’t this supposed to be anonymous?”

I formed a mental image of leaked results. HIV-positive results. My name and phone number on full display.

I looked over at my boyfriend, he chuckled, grabbed the pen and filled in his contacts.

“Everything will be confidential, we just need the details in case we need to communicate further with you.” She explained.

I have come across many clinical studies in my line of work… HIV studies. I imagined they might want to recruit me in one of those. The knot in my stomach grew bigger and blood rushed out of my constricted heart. Blood.. my blood, oh the thought!

“Was it clear of HIV?” I was clearly in full panic mode.

I thought about my sexual encounters. I considered myself responsible but truth is I was not always 100% so.The face of a former boyfriend came into my mind.

“Was he always faithful?”

“Why did I allow the illusion of monogamy cloud my judgment?”

“What if he had put me at risk?”

Then another image crept into my mind.

 A shameful image.

The image of a man I liked, a man I got into an undefined relation with. We went on dates, he made me laugh, I was eager for him to think highly of me. An independent woman. The not-clingy type. So when we eventually had sex, I did not ask what we were doing, where we were headed. I let it be. I was caught up in a situationship, lost power to negotiate for better terms.

Then one many nights later, high on beer and drunk in lust, we let it slip. He did away with the rubber and I did not protest.

Sex without a condom is that slippery slope. When it begins it becomes a habit. The illusion of trust already created.

“Make a tight fist.” The lady broke into my little regretful reverie.

She was drawing blood from my boyfriend’s arm he looked on without flinching, my shivers deepened and I looked away. I am terrified of needles.

It was now my turn, I hesitated, asked my beau to step outside with me.

“I don’t think I can do it” I muttered.

“The first time is always hard, but everything will be alright.” He said as he gave me a reassuring hug.

“You don’t know that!” I protested.

It was a new relationship, things were moving very fast, we were having protected sex but I felt the need to have the test just to allay any fears. Plus having turned thirty, it was time I took charge of my sexual health. I needed to know where I stood and being in a new relationship was the perfect time to do the test.

“You want me to take the test for you?  he teased, making a reference to occurrences in my past relationships.

I laughed nervously. And briefly considered the option.

 In two previous relationships, my partners had taken the tests alone. I was too scared to follow suit and so I assigned myself their statuses seeing that we were having unprotected sex, a foolish thing to do considering cases of discordant couples.

I finally mustered the courage and we walked into the phlebotomy room, I laid out my arm, and looked away in terror as the needle made its way towards a vein.

“This is worse than the fear of the results!” I quipped as the sharp pain soared throughout my body.

But it was a lie. The next thirty minutes were the worst in recent memory. I was flooded with regret, remorse and anger. Anger because I put my life in someone else’s hands, I let frivolous emotions dictate the course of my life. I had sex with a boyfriend without knowing for sure my status, I put another human at risk.

I bargained with God to change my status, I promised to always use a condom, until that was no longer an option, when I finally settled in marriage. My mind could not fathom the idea that I could be negative, I had trusted too much and been too foolish for far too long. I had to be punished.

“Thirty minutes are over, babe.” He announced as he abruptly stood up.

He had been trying to sooth me throughout the waiting period but I was too deep in thought to understand a word. He asked me to wait in the hospital cafeteria as he went to pick up the results.

“No!” I shouted, creating a small scene.

“If you go alone, I know you will read them beforehand and I do not want to read the results all over your face!”

I was becoming paranoid and made little sense.

He took my hand and we walked to the clinic. The lady was thankfully talking over the phone and so I could not “read” the results on her face. She stapled them and put them in an envelope as she carried on with her conversation, handing us the results nonchalantly.

The next ten minutes were probably the worst ever. I grabbed both envelopes, I did not want him to unceremoniously check the results. I had to be ready, calm and collected. Far from it, the more I waited, the worse the situation became. I was sweating, stammering, nauseous and crying all at the same time. My boyfriend was getting alarmed, I was no longer listening to him and seemed to be completely out of it.

He grabbed my arms and held me still. Looked me in the eyes and told me either way, it will be fine. If we were both infected we would walk the journey together and if one was infected, the same remains true. And in his usual humor, he added that if we were both negative, then that would be a license to sex like rabbits. I took a deep breath and opened his results first, they were negative.

I gave him a big hug. He did not seem exhilarated by the results, he had the composure and self-assurance of a man who knew where he stood, I quietly envied him. Now it was my turn, another short pep talk later, I opened the envelope with shaky hands and liquid eyes.

And then I jumped into his arms.

The flood of emotions that had built up the whole day came rushing down and as he held me tightly I made a quick prayer to God and two promises to myself.

I will always have a test before and after a relationship and use condoms throughout consistently. I have to take responsibility over my health, my life.

I realize now that it was foolish to equate unprotected sex in a relationship to a deeper love and even more foolish to let it slip whilst in a situationship.

 I grew up with the message of ‘good girl’ being drummed into me, and good girls do not carry condoms, promiscuous girls do. All my sexually-active life, I had been terrified of my mother finding out that I was not ‘waiting’, and because of that, I always relied on the man to carry the condoms.

This changes now, mum, next time you come to visit and need some lip balm from my bag, you will probably stumble upon my new ‘permanent-bag-fixture’ and if you ask about it, I will tell you…

I am taking control of my sexual health.

Is Kenya a colour struck society?

The color of fire in the middle of its escape, skin and eyes round and regal at once
You are beautiful, I am beautiful, the color of coffee with no cream
dark like the bittersweet chocolate of my dreams, caramel-coated coquette
honey dipped and full of vigor, full lipped and full bodied
full dark-skinned and exquisite, majestic even with your brown-black self!
Black is beautiful, You are beautiful
I am beautiful, We are beautiful
-Ode to a dark skinned girl 

Driving from the airport, through to Mombasa road, you will be struck by the many billboards featuring light-skinned biracial people. Thumb through our society magazines and the story profile pictures are of happy biracial couples/families, one will be forgiven for thinking they are in some islander nation with a mixed population. In fact, Kenya lies on the equator and is home to some of the darkest people on earth. Yet, we do not see these people smiling, looking healthy on the numerous billboards doting the big cities, begging the question, Are we a color struck society? Do we consciously or sub-consciously think lighter skin = beauty?
 

This girl is  likely to be on a Kenyan billboard or magazine

Typical Kenyan beauty

A close friend of mine was blessed with an adorable little girl 18 months ago, by her first birthday, the little munchkin had darkened a bit, presumably attaining her natural skin tone. The mum was not pleased by the turn of events, it's easy to judge her, but how many times do we gush at a light skinned baby calling her beautiful, while we offer the dark skinned baby a quick glance and mumble some inaudible compliment? 

What of that back-handed compliment,You are really pretty for a dark skinned girl, Ni msichana mweusi lakini ni mrembo! It is like we have this natural expectation that a dark woman cannot be pretty, so if we meet one, then she is a rare species and is given the tag "Black beauty".

I am of the opinion that colorism is stemmed from our colonial/slave heritage, listening to most old folk songs, the very darkest of skins was praised as a great mark of beauty, especially due to the stark contrast it provided to a beautiful white smile. In colonial Kenya, the brown skinned Indians and biracial people were treated much better than the black populations, they had certain privileges that the dark skinned did not enjoy. This stratification informed the relatively new attitude that lighter skin is more desirable.

The whole color debate is more pronounced within the Afro-American communities, with dark skinned men preferring to sire children with lighter skinned (sometimes white) women to "upgrade" their genes. Back home, the same scenario plays out albeit in a smaller scale. There has been a number of inter tribal marriages in Kenya between the western tribes and the eastern tribes. Curiously, the coupling is significantly skewed towards western males and eastern females and not vice versa. The western tribes which include the Luos, Luhyias, Kisiis are generally darker while the easterners mainly Kikuyu, Kamba, Meru are generally of lighter skin shades. I believe just like their Afro-American counterparts, the Western Kenya men are under the general illusion than the lighter Eastern Kenya women are more beautiful than their dark skinned sisters. 

 Thankfully, a new trend is slowly but steady growing... the love for all things African. The young generation is reverting back to African names, we are dancing again to the afro-beat, women are embracing their afro-kinks. It is my hope that we will once again truly love the skin of our ancestors, be awed by its beauty and symbolic power.