the tribe has spoken

they divide to conquer

we are divided and concur

they use and abuse

we are used and refuse

to see the fall that pride of tribe incites

Roughly one and a half years ago I embarked on a journey. It took me all the way to Europe in pursuit of my Masters degree (and America, but for totally different reasons) in order to better my life. It was the ride of my life, filled with laughter, joy, discovery, happiness, love, friendship. I saw the reality that is 'developed' countries vis a vie 'developed' ones. I got a deeper understanding of this dream we chase abroad that seems so much better than our lives at home, seeing first hand the good , the bad and the ugly sides of development. It was truly an eye-opening experience that I can never trade for anything in the world. After completing my Masters, I embarked on a 30 hour sleepless journey back to the mother land. Back to the dusty, potholed roads, live fences (unkempt or otherwise), constant political bickering, cheap food by the road side, never-ending traffic jams, the matatu menace (the matatu industry in my opinion has lost its integrity; not integrity in the sense of their customer service and 'roadside manner'. It is now nearly impossible to find a decent or even roadworthy matatu. I remember when I was in primary school and matatus were at their prime trying to outdo each other in attractive designs and brilliant colours. Back then they were properly maintained as they were judged on appearances first. Nowadays, all you seem to see are rickety old death traps in which you are most likely to die of Tetanus than get to your destination. But this is a story for another day...), high taxations with little to show for, accusations of corruption left, right and centre the constant black outs and water rationing (services that seem to be provided at a whim), the daily sitcoms on TV that are news programmes, English and Swahili everywhere... ah, home sweet home how dearly I had missed it.

On my first day back, I took a matatu (the destination is not relevant destination). The 'conductor', while collecting the fare from the passengers, did something that instantly brought back the ugly reality of being back home; that one thing that being away from home I had come to forget, by mistake or by design. While trying to get the attention of a passenger, he opted to use a not-so-derogatory word in the passenger's mother tongue. There it was, the thinly veiled tribalism that is the heartbeat of our country, the scourge of our nation. The single greatest barrier to our country's development in my opinion. Those stereotypical jokes told in apparent jest burying real emotions in shallow graves bubbling just below the surface. These emotions that erupted to the surface in 2007 and led to the death of over 1000 people, leaving hundreds of thousands homeless and/or scared physically and emotionally. One would think that after that horrific time in our history we would have learned something, that we would have changed and shunned tribalism. One would be pitifully wrong. In fact, I daresay tribalism is more alive now than ever. When my own father asks me, before anything else, the tribe of any of my friends he meets... When the most outstanding character trait your neighbour of 20 years is their ethnic background... When you order something in a restaurant and its immediately associated with your ethnic background...

Growing up in 'cosmopolitan' Nairobi where we knew not our peers tribes, save when our parents pointed the out, simply because it did not matter, we were convinced that we were the generation that would end tribalism. I looked forward to the day when we would be Kenyans, not only to foreigners who do not know (or care) the difference, but to our fellow Kenyans. I could not wait for the day when my last name did not automatically put me in a box complete with a character trait and with it expectations, good or bad. Unfortunately this is not the case; in the 2 weeks I have been back most of the tribal innuendo and 'jokes' I have heard are not from my parents and their age-mates, but from people my own age, my peers who were supposed to be the change. We who were to be the solution are now the problem. Tribalism. So I have to wonder, if someone who grew up surrounded by and interacting constantly with all other ethnic communities is still prejudiced against others, what are we to expect from those who grew up in rural areas with members of their community only? We are supposed to know better, we are supposed to be better. Where did it all go wrong?

Our immediate former president, in an attempt to get Kenyans to embrace and be proud of their culture as we strayed and embraced the 'western' cultures, once told us 'mwacha mila ni mtuma (he who abandons culture is a slave)'. I found that very inspiring as I am proud of my culture, the culture of my forefathers passed down from generation to generation. However, this same cultures have been and still are a reason to divide us with politicians using tribalism to secure votes and we the electorate blindly following. Regular citizens casting their votes based solely or tribal affiliation regardless of the principles or character of the candidate. In my opinion, this thing we call culture is not working any more. It is now being used by certain individuals as a tool to achieve an end desireable only for them and not for the good of the populace. This pride we have of our cultures has became more detrimental than beneficial. Something must change and I think this something must be drastic in order to shock us into seeing reason. Maybe it is time for us to do away with all our cultures and adapt a new, all-inclusive and all-encompassing culture that is Kenyan. In a country where tribe speaks, it is time to give one tribe a voice-let that tribe be Kenya.