Nick Wadhams

"They always end in doom when such concerns are ignored"

Sometimes the newspapers here are just great -- for example, this story in the Daily Nation today about Kenya's new water and irrigation minister, Charity Ngilu.

"Tears accompanied her sacking from  the Ministry of Health in December 2007, but instead of being overwhelmed by the emotions shown by her staff, she made a more prophetic statement and took the dismissal in her stride.

The staff wept but she uttered the words “I will be back” as tears rolled down the cheeks of her close allies after being relieved of her duties  by President Kibaki.

Mrs Charity Kaluki Ngilu kept the faith of not fearing authority that only threatened her body but could not kill her spirit, by uttering the  words known to have tied  Christians to be apostles of Jesus Christ. It was clear to her the side she supported would win.

Jesus also said; “I will be back” and this act of faith keeps Christianity burning the flame of resurrection from the dead and life after death for those who have kept the word."

Power of women

The powerful words she uttered with a smile and drove her vehicle out of Afya House today confirm her faith. Looked at differently, the words reinforce the belief in the power of women, who use words and action to mobilise success.

Although the Presidential results were disputed, Mrs Ngilu is now the minister for Water and Irrigation, thanks to Mr Kofi Annan, who brokered the National Accord and Reconciliation Act, which midwifed the power sharing deal between ODM and PNU.

In  some communities, it is believed  that a woman’s warning always comes true.

It is conventional wisdom among many Africans that when one’s wife warns her man against travelling or getting into a deal, they always end in doom when such concerns are ignored.

All hail the flag

Odd moment: I'm walking out of the Kibera slum a few days ago in the middle of a crowd of several hundred people. Suddenly, a whistle blows faintly and everyone for about 100 yards in every direction comes to a halt and stops talking.

I look around in puzzlement and notice, in the courtyard of a police station to my right, a tattered Kenyan flag being lowered from a flagpole that's only about 10 feet high. Once it's down, a policeman blows a whistle and everyone starts up again.

What a strange and affecting moment of ceremony. Ironic, too, since this patriotism is on display in Kibera, where anti-government sentiment runs high. I ask someone next to me what would happen if people kept walking during the flag-lowering. "You'd be arrested for failing to show sufficient respect for the national flag," he says. So much for patriotism.

In some Nairobi movie theaters, they play the national anthem (accompanied by footage of a Kenyan flag waving in the wind) before every showing. Presumably no one is watching to report you if you don't stop slurping your Coke, stand up and take off your hat. No different, I suppose, than the U.S. national anthem being played before sporting events back home, but strange that patriotism goes on display in a darkened movie theater.

Paying for Protests

Some of the most widely disseminated images of protesters from Kenya's post-election crisis were filmed along a road that runs down a hill and into Nairobi's Kibera slum. It was a convenient spot for lots of us reporters to go and get our daily dose of demonstrations. Some stoned-looking kid was sure to bring out a car tire and set it alight. Angry chants would begin. The police would then oblige us by firing tear gas (and sometimes, it was claimed, live bullets) and then charge the crowds with made-for-TV whoops.

After a while, the demonstrations began to feel a little bit canned, and some of us felt sheepish about watching. Sometimes it seemed that the protests would only reach a fevered pitch once a critical mass of television crews and photographers had arrived.

Yesterday, I came across a guy in Kibera named Yusuf who claimed that while some of the earliest protests in Kibera were spontaneous, it was little mor e than show from the very start. According to Yusuf, agents of both parties told people in Kibera to gather groups willing to protest for money. The names would be written down. On days when the party agents wanted protesters out on the streets, they would call the group leaders and pay them 300 shillings per demonstrator if everyone appeared at the appointed place and time. Yusuf said that he himself saw agents from opposition leader Raila Odinga's party drawing up these lists and paying out the cash.

A Deal

Our internet connection appears to be back after about 10 days. The reason for this is alternately that the radio receiver on our roof is loose or the giant radio antenna on top of the Nairobi post office is loose. But it's working now.

And just in time. Finally, Kenya's leaders appear to have ended the country's political crisis for good, for now anyway. Here's how they did it: First, divide Cabinet posts among your allies, even if they have no experience overseeing whatever it is they will be overseeing. Charity Ngilu, the much respected former health minister, now runs water and irrigation. William Ruto, accused of stirring up electoral violence, heads agriculture. Former Internal Security Minister John Michuki is now in charge of the environment.

Then, when there aren't enough Cabinet posts for your allies, create more Cabinet posts. Kenya now has ministries for Northern Kenya and Other Arid Lands, Industrialization, Planning and Vision 2030 (???) and Nairobi Metropolitan Development (even though Nairobi already has a local government).

This is so brazenly cynical that it's almost possible to forget that it's cynical. No one is talking about good governance, or about appointing a minister with experience. Instead, many of the people who have become powerful in the past by occupying powerful ministries are installed in different powerful ministries. It doesn't matter that President Kibaki fired many of them in 2005 because they couldn't get along. No wonder many people didn't seem to care who got named to the Cabinet. There seemed to be no difference in the last three and a half months, when Kenya didn't have a government.

The Swelling Cabinet

Kenya may have faded from the Great World Consciousness in recent weeks but the crisis isn't over. The latest issue is the squabbling between the government and the opposition over the size of the future Cabinet.

It strikes me as a terribly depressing thing that the government's solution is just to increase the Cabinet from its current size of 17 to 44. The opposition is only slightly less profligate _ it advocates a Cabinet of 34 ministers. Not very creative on either side.

Of course, this only adds to the impression that Kenya's politicians are less interested in joining hands in the creation of a viable government than they are in getting their share.

Incidentally, it seems important to mention here that Nobel Peace Prize winner Wangari Maathai was tear-gassed yesterday as she attended a rally in downtown Nairobi to demand that the Cabinet be expanded to no more than 24 ministers. I stand (slightly) humbled.

Where was Wangari?

To me, one of the most curious things about Kenya's political crisis was the almost complete absence of the country's Nobel Peace Prize winner, Wangari Maathai. She lost her seat in parliament and then played no significant role in finding any sort of solution to the crisis.

Sure, Maathai made several public statements and pleaded for calm, but no one ever really seemed to listen to her. You'd think a Nobel winner would have some moral authority, but she was never brought in to help -- which may suggest that the Kenyan view of her differs slightly from the international view of her.

Maathai's ineffectiveness raises questions for me about her worth as a Nobel recipient. After we arrived I was struck by the number of people who thought she hadn't deserved it. At the time, I dismissed those complaints as sexist sour grapes. We had met Maathai at a book signing in New York, and like everyone else, I was impressed. She even signed a book for us ("Zoe, Best of luck in Nairobi indeed! Peace always, Wangari"). Now, I'm not so sure.

News from today's paper adds to the impression. The Daily Nation reports that displaced people in Nakuru rejected her call for them to return to their homes. And then -- always a bad sign -- Maathai refers to herself in the third person. "If you do not listen to Wangari today, one day you will listen to somebody else." You can almost hear a "harumph" at the end.

(UPDATE: Lest I get too carried away with all the Wangari bashing, it's important to highlight what two commenters, Sijui and my esteemed colleague African Safari, point out below. Wangari Maathai's loss of her parliamentary seat and her subsequent absence from the political negotiations may have had less to do with her own failings than with the failings of the system in which she operates.)

Obama's Somali Friend

Hillary, watch out. The man responsible for dressing Barack Obama in traditional Somali garb is demanding an apology.

Kenyan Muslims had already protested the silly fervor surrounding the photo.

It need not be said that Obama's Kenyan ancestry plays a huge role in his popularity here. But it's interesting that for all Hillary's talk about being the one capable of handling that 3 a.m. phone call, people in the rest of the world generally seem more confident that Obama would be best for the job (though gender issues are a huge factor, too).

Kenya and tribe

Anyone who doubts that "tribe" or "ethnicity" is a fundamental element of Kenyan identity need only look in the classifieds section of the newspaper every Saturday.

There are the obvious ones:

"A 26-year-old Luhya lady, taking a degree though working with a three-year-old son, loving, caring and God-fearing, is looking for a God-fearing graduate/well educated, honest intelligent, working loving and non-alcoholic man residing in Nairobi. Must be a Luo, Luhya or a Kamba."

And the slightly more discrete ones (Central Province is the Kikuyu homeland, and by mentioning it, you at least reveal a little more about yourself):

"Mona, a 35-year-old lady from Central Province, is seriously looking for a single/widower Seventh Day Adventist man from any part of the world, with or without children, for a long-term relationship leading to marriage."

"I'm a 50-year-old man, retired but with a stable income from Central Kenya. I'm looking for a mature, lonely but not desperate lady for a serious relationship and/or companionship."

The opposition's failure

A week has passed since Kenya's government and the opposition signed a power-sharing deal, and by all accounts, both sides are willing to make this thing work.

Now the opposition leader, Raila Odinga, bears that smug smile of a man who has gotten his. He must be relishing the new debate over where to put a prime minister's office. Surely he'll have a prime minister's residence, too. And a prime minister's vehicle convoy.

The trouble with think tanks

The International Crisis Group recently released its assessment of the Kenyan political crisis. The 34-page document caused quite a stir in Nairobi, and it provides a pretty good overview of the situation, though there wasn't much in there that seemed all that new.

A couple of things that strike me as seriously flawed:

1. The athletes. The report got the most attention for a single paragraph on page 12 which claimed that Kenyan athletes had sponsored some of the fighters. This is a case of about 95 percent of the back story being left out. By "athletes" the report means "runners" and specifically those living in and around the city of Eldoret. The report mentions one person, Lucas Sang, who can't defend himself against the allegation because he was killed _ according to ICG, while leading a band of militias in the fighting.

The trouble with this claim is sourcing. The report bases the allegation on interviews with unnamed people in Eldoret. By not naming the suspects the authors of the report apparently believe they spared themselves the responsibility of speaking with the "athletes" in question and hearing their inevitable denials. That seems a little unfair because every Kenyan who reads of the report will know whom it refers to, and if anyone wants to seek retribution, he will.