I've learnt, as one who's held the responsibility of holding a team together, that forgetting someone is brutal to the human psyche. It frays the cords that bind us far worse than fighting that person does.
"We Kenyans have gotten into the habit of forgetting others without apology, as if they don't count. A research shows that the number of attacks we've had since Kenya's forces went into Somalia in 2011 are at least 75. That's an astounding number that leaves us weak and unguarded.
We forget because those who get hit most frequently - from Mtwapa to Mandera, Eastleigh to Wajir, Garissa to Baragoi, Eldoret to Kiambaa - are less powerful and less endowed. They are already forgotten even before tragedy befalls them.
A human head turns up at the doorstep of the National Police Service Commission Chairman's office, as if it were a staged metaphor of the forgotten demanding a headcount. But no one is asking questions anymore. Forgotten.
The Westgate headcount we now demand must become a headcount for all our brothers and sisters across Kenya who cry to be remembered, to be protected, to be relevant.
The loss of Kenyans at the Westgate Mall is the devastating price they have paid for our newfound sense of national unity. This unity is precious, very real and exceedingly delicate.
It has come to us as a result of loved ones brutally butchered while buying milk, getting a hair-do, out on a date, purchasing a gift, simply enjoying the fruits of thriving.
Yet after this heart-wrenching devastation comes the search for truth, and it's always at this point that this fragile unity is threatened. Let us not lose this unity while in the difficult throes of seeking truth.
Also let us not discard our search for truth out of fear of losing our delicate unity. For a country that's already anemic with unresolved histories, we desperately need both truth that leads to justice and unity that leads to prosperity. Somehow, we must navigate through this brittle balance and win.
While Westgate, with its victims from various countries, carries a reminder that Kenya is a member of the global family, one fighting a global enemy, we remain the primary shapers of our own destiny. Our unity is in our hands.
We now have a word symbol that weaves our common bond, hashtag WeAreOne. Guard this symbol even when voices of cynicism, in their search for truth, rise against it with hash-tag WeAreWondering.
Guard it even while we begin to see a relapse into ethnic hatred and the drawing of partisan daggers. Guard it even while the tide of forgetting is already drowning our resolve to reconcile across class, color and creed.
Guard it passionately even while boardroom mafia and blogosphere hit-men arise to divide and rule through callous schemes, blatant lies and propaganda.
It's easy to become discontent and build up to the next shattering crisis when truth is not forthcoming. Now more than ever, we need voices of hope, soldiers of truth and builders of bridges.
Our symbols encase our ideals; they have the power to activate in our minds the greatness we are capable of. We can either choose to dismantle and forget the best of these symbols, or use them to empower us.
Just as the President plucked those lions off of the coat of arms and bid them roar in our minds, reminding us of our courage, so should we pluck that symbol of unity off of our social media pages and let it tag in our hearts the reality of our common bond, without which we can never thrive as a nation.
Westgate is our wakeup call to remember those we have forgotten, to see those we have fenced off, to recognize the dignity and worth in the least of us and to weed out the corruption that rots our security.
Diaspora too has taken up this call of unity, born from pain and loss. From vigils in Seattle, Minnesota, Texas, Boston, Johannesburg, Washington DC and others to come, we are one with our sisters and brothers in Kenya.
I have nothing but immense gratitude to those among us who rise up to organize events and lead initiatives for a diaspora that still longs to be fully integrated as equal shapers of Kenya's destiny.
To the organizers of all these vigils, we who call ourselves diaspora leaders owe you strong organizations that will allow you to execute initiatives with ease and greater impact.
Many times we've tired and dropped the ball. We will rise again and rebuild our fledgling organizations, from Cape Town to the UK, Australia to America. We can, we must. We equally look forward to leaders in Kenya fortifying our ailing security systems.
Finally I'd like to say that it is at the height of rejection that one must trumpet their beauty. The US has issues a travel advisory against Kenya. This is unnecessary.
Kenya is still very much visitable, and this is no lie. We're telling our American friends, family and yes, countryfolk, to come to Kenya. Book your flight today.
The people of Kenya are still as warm and welcoming, the land as beautiful, the food as exquisite, the ocean, savannah and star-studded skies still as magical as ever. Westgate has not changed that fact.
Thank you and God bless us all.
Mkawasi Mcharo Hall
Sep, 29 2013 © mkmc
Perhaps no overflow of the heart captures the journey of the Kenyan in the diaspora as truthfully as this status posted publicly by Anna Mwalagho, a Kenyan artist in Washington, DC.
"Today August 13th I am celebrating my 13th anniversary in the USA... God had a bigger plan for me here. Challenges were numerous; from being an undocumented immigrant searching for stability in both economic and social settings, fearing cops because my papers were not in order and surviving with just a valid license and no social security card for almost a decade was no joke, and of course driving second hand cars which would either stall on the highway, catch fire or make just left turns because the right axle was broken was just the jest of a part of an immigrant's life, not forgetting renting basement apartments because that is all I could afford.
I am sure many immigrants in the Diaspora can relate to the challenges and ups and downs of life, but what kept me going was my strong belief in God, my dreams and the prayers of my family members back home in Kenya who prayed for me day and night. Looking back it was all worth it, and as I start to count my blessings, my cup overflows, and am glad I stayed otherwise I would not have achieved my dreams..."
Anna teaches us to celebrate our journey, from travails to triumph. But lately, with open talk of how many are struggling, we've been too ashamed of this journey.
I like the way the different facets of diaspora Kenyans keep coming up lately, educating us about the whole picture in bits and pieces, and erasing prejudices built on just one aspect of diaspora. There's the remittances story that keeps trending, making it look like them Kenyans abroad must have a lot of money; then the summer bunnies story that drives a status wedge between Kenyans at home and visiting diasporans; now the stressed-out-and-suicidal tales that brings out diaspora skeletons; and the 200,000 "illegals" makes the breaking story.
I'd like to state that there are no illegal human beings on earth. You don't become illegal for breaking laws. These are out-of-status Kenyans. They are not "undocumented" either because all Kenyans in the US, unless they flew into the US on their own wings and landed in someone's backyard, are documented. It means they entered the country legally and have a stamp on their visa to prove it. But at some point, the visa expired and they opted to break immigration laws by over-staying instead of going back home.
I think Ambassador Odembo gave NTV an excellent recap of how most Kenyans get into the trap of living in the shadows for years without legal documents. A lot else he said deserves amplification especially for those yet to migrate to the US. He should know, as a diplomat who met many students and Kenyans in crisis, and also as one who was once a student himself in New York. I should know too. I've lived here long enough.
So should thousands of out-of-status Kenyans who prefer to live in isolation, ashamed, afraid or overly cautious, never participating in any immigration rallies or workshops that can give them empowering information. And now, just the mere mention that there are possibly 200,000 out-of-status Kenyans gets some people angry and defensive.
I say, let's get wise and use the numbers that have been projected authoritatively to fight for resources for our community, and for those uncomfortable with these numbers, by all means, do diligent research and get comparative statistics. In this country, without statistics, your cause is weak. Try lobbying for any services or resources and the first question is, how many people are affected?
The status of our welfare, and that includes immigration matters, should be put in the open and debated intelligently, objectively, with a goal to moving our sisters and brothers out of the shadows. When most Kenyans go abroad, they carry with them a heavy burden to succeed for the clan.
When sons and daughters left the village for Mombasa or Nairobi, they also carried with them this same burden of making a success out of themselves and helping their families out of poverty. It was a journey to a land where some would "get lost" for many years, becoming people who are only whispered about back in the village, ashamed of returning home because they did not succeed. Some wrote letters of hardship and hope and sent home what they could.
To capture this turmoil of being in the wilderness of a far-away city, Maroon Comandos' Habel Kifoto composed the song, "Charonyi ni Wasi" (This Journey is a Struggle). He did not have Kenyans abroad in mind, but the song truly is the anthem of the diaspora struggle. It goes to show that the diaspora experience has always been there; only the destinations have changed with time, getting farther and farther away.
Speaking truth to our situation allows us to find solutions with our heads held high. Being ashamed of our struggle makes us forget to tell the triumphant side of the story; that the many out-of-status Kenyans in the US are also a strong back-bone that contributes to economic stability in Kenya. They are the very same ones who send money to families back home, find risky contractors to build them a house at home, open bank accounts at home and feed the money transfer industry.
A lot of them run their own businesses right here with their shadowy selves. Because they have no legal employment documents, they innovatively offer services for which they get paid. They build businesses, from cleaning to catering, technology, hair-braiding, transportation, etc. Some do better than Kenyans who have all the legal freedom to take risks, find jobs and move between borders. I suppose crisis creates genius.
Just refer to the artist I mention at the start of this article and see that for the 10 years she was out-of-status, she ran her own edutainment business, making herself independent through performance gigs, launching CDs, forming her own band and teaching. She rejected the pitiful sob-story status while embracing the truth of the struggle. That's how you succeed and find humor in the dark moments.
For those telling struggling diaspora Kenyans to come back home, or mocking them for going abroad, remember that being in Kenya does not guarantee that one is going to make it. You can be the victim of ruthless corruption, unemployment, failed investments, absent friends and disappointed relatives in your own country. Which is why all the hype about stressed-out, suicidal and homicidal diaspora Kenyans is just that, hype. It's all in your own determination and choices you make.
I would encourage those wishing to leave the country to empower themselves with all the information they can get. Sometime last year, the Embassy in Washington, DC suggested a program where prospective students coming to the US would attend induction classes to allow them to ease in to life when they get here.
All manner of protest and accusations of ill-will were thrown against the proposal. A helpful idea died a violent death. Proactive debating towards solutions does not seem to be our strength. Too often, we look for an individual to tear into instead of presenting the pros and cons of an idea, or proposing alternative solutions while respecting what has been put forward.
Some Kenyans think that it's condescending to suggest they get educated on life in America. I've had my regrets thinking I did not need to know about America just because I had relatives here. I also reasoned that TV and my American literature classes in college had taught me enough, and most of all, that I was a responsible adult capable of handling America just fine. Was I wrong.
Whatever wilderness you go to "kutafuta riziki zako", be it Mombasa, Mumbai or Manhattan, embrace the journey; acknowledge the shadows, dark and dreadful as they may be (they later become quite funny); and walk steadily on the paths that grow you.
August 2013 © mkmc
I hear there's a new office called "Director Digital, New Media and Diaspora." Really? Diaspora seems to be such a problem-child to the government, the brat that he is for constantly demanding representation, always crying for a seat at the family table, such a nuisance he is that he has to be fitted in with any new foster parent that would bear his responsibilities for a term.
Attaching diaspora as an appendage to a new portfolio in the Office of the President is ill-fitting, retrogressive, and at best, a stagnation. I like to remind people of where we have come from with an issue so that it's better understood where we are. In the past government, diaspora was nestled somewhere in the Office of the Prime Minister where it pretty much suffocated under an "advisory office." This diaspora problem-child also had another foster parent at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs where a quiet affable official with the title of Director of Diaspora Affairs sat cluelessly at a desk.
It was hoped that the new President's mentioning diaspora severally in one of his maiden speeches was a sign of better choices to come as far as engaging and enabling diaspora goes. Not only that, the Diaspora Policy that contained the sweat-prints of Diaspora's aspirations, lobbied for long and hard over the years, had recently been dusted off in readiness for Cabinet approval. The full-fledged Department of Diaspora Affairs that is needed to competently handle all of diaspora engagement seemed within reach. Then suddenly, another foster parent. Really, the OP gets an A for innovation of portfolio that compacts the affairs of an entire constituency of 3.5 million Kenyans into a digital appendage.
Just to be clear, the Digital office is fine. Any smart 21 Century government should want one of these. It is also a new media propaganda machinery for government spin. It's up to independent media journalists to counter it with fearless objective reporting. But here's the important point: Because this new office contains "Diaspora", it owes it to diaspora to explain its role vis a vis diaspora's unrelenting struggle for meaningful engagement and representation. We hope this office does not take to hacking into and spying on diaspora accounts. It's a dastardly thing.Through out history, new technology has been used by governments towards terrible ends. Let this not be the case for Kenya. There's immense good that digital technology can do.
Awkward as this "diaspora" attachment is - it hangs like an abnormal extra finger - the Digital office could use its savvy to help facilitate some of diaspora's goals that will require digital technology for outreach and implementation. These include e-business, online philanthropy, online voting and policy-shaping, among others. I do have a lot of faith in this generation's ability to use technology to catapult the country to incredible heights. Whatever digital surprises come from this office, to diaspora's benefit, it must not become another holding pen for diaspora affairs, The main goal of seeing the Diaspora Policy through legislation, which will lead to achieving effective diaspora engagement and representation, must not be compromised.
July 2013 © mkmc
Diaspora still remains a distant constituency of "those guys", easily shoved and shafted, at best, thrown token representation.
In the past five years of the previous government, there was a diaspora representative at the Prime Minister's office and another at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Whatever the efforts of these officials, neither one of them recorded any meaningful gains for the diaspora. For their high-profile and strategic placement, they were both a total let-down.
In 2011, the Prime Minister's diaspora office launched www.kenyadiaspora.go.ke a website that was supposed to provide a one-stop shop for all matters diaspora. This website has had nothing but dead links, irrelevant pictures and out-dated news, reflecting the same neglect with which diaspora has been treated. It would have been a great e-government tool to serve diaspora, but it lacked vision and purpose, and shamefully, someone is still paying to sustain this digital white elephant.
Likewise, diaspora received a total blackout from the diaspora office at MoFA regarding implementation of their right to vote, the very Ministry charged with this issue. To date, no accountability has been issued concerning any resources that might have been set aside for this exercise. Diaspora organizations struggled to achieve what they could not achieve without meaningful engagement from the government.
Diaspora should never again sit and accept this kind of shabby representation. It starts with discarding that lackadaisical attitude by diaspora that has allowed public offices dedicated to their affairs to go unquestioned. Let's not confuse helping individual diaspora members with addressing issues that need legislation and institutionalization. The hard work of unlocking doors for all must not be shirked.
Department of Diaspora Affairs:
For well over 5 years, diaspora, especially through the KCA (Kenyan Community Abroad), had been working on legislation that would institutionalize diaspora representation in government and decision-making bodies. Inspired by the successful establishment of the African diaspora's Office and Commission on African Affairs in Washington, DC, the KCA Executive charged the then KCA-France Chapter with spearheading the Office and Commission on Kenya Diaspora.
Eventually, a draft Diaspora Policy was released in 2007 through the Ministry of Planning and National Development and revised in 2012. Several diaspora organizations participated in analyzing the policy and submitting feedback, culminating in the key recommendation to set up a Department of Diaspora Affairs.
It has been a long journey, and it's incumbent upon diaspora to inform the new government of these efforts and ensure this document becomes law as a matter of urgency. It would streamline diaspora concerns and structure its fast-growing role in Kenya's development. It would be ill-advised for the new government to sustain the blackout on diaspora.
The Kenya diaspora in the US has grown by 62% since the year 2000, according to the 2010 US census. This growth is likely the same in other continents, with little variation. Were it to become the 48th county, diaspora would count as the largest in population. It cannot go unrepresented.
There's still a lot of organized lobbying that needs to be done to ensure the draft policy goes all the way to legislation. This will include a concerted effort to keep the campaign in the trending zone and beat off the usual media blackout on diaspora issues. It is the unheard cry, the unacknowledged efforts, and the suppressed struggles that kill the best initiatives.
It's up to the diaspora to now make the necessary noise and moves to ensure that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs has a full-fledged Department of Diaspora Affairs that will handle, among others,
This is the hard work that must be done.
May 2013 © mkmc
The very first Diaspora was that of the Jews in Babylon. We know about their weeping by the rivers of Babylon when they remembered Zion, their land from whence King Nebuchadnezzar had captured them. But there's more to the story. This was a well-educated, high-echelon diaspora since they had been taken from the crème de la crème of the Jewish nation. They organized and governed themselves in exile and thrived. Only no matter how much a people thrive, they will always remember their Zion and invest in it in every way possible, even if they choose not to physically go back.
We have now come to redefine that term "diaspora" to mean any peoples living outside their country of birth and heritage, not just the scattered Jewish nation. The Kenyan diaspora isn't too different from this very first Diaspora in Babylon. We too have it in us to thrive in a foreign land, and we must, even in the midst of struggles little understood and heavily stereotyped by those back home. But most important, we remember our Zion every day and reinvest in it by sending a little here and a little there to family, friends and philanthropic activities. This haba-na-haba has all been adding up to a whole lot.
Yet we struggle with this thing called unity. Our diaspora is terribly fragmented, and for that reason, it is hard to achieve meaningful goals that benefit the entire diaspora community. Yes, we have organized ourselves before and moved mountains such as achieving dual citizenship and the right to vote. But that's just a crumb of the cake we are able to bake if we dream it together. Our eyes have not seen nor our ears heard what we're capable of. We are too busy trying to survive individually and have forgotten the power of a united diaspora that is greater than the sum of its parts. Many that have dared to lead have given up all together, having tired from negative competition or personal depletion.
A lot is going on in Kenya right now, and the diaspora seems all but silent and unsure as to how to make their voices heard, how to fit in to the unfolding mold of a new Kenya they already heavily invest in but remain unrepresented. This is a diaspora that has had its hands burnt too many times before for lack of anyone to speak to their interests in Kenya; brilliant proposals forgotten in government drawers or plagiarized; goo gobs of money lost to investment charlatans; too much red tape blocking business and philanthropy; opportunities going to non-Kenyan expatriates when diaspora Kenyans qualify.
Diaspora representation is extremely important for a constituency whose remittances have become the goose that lays the golden egg, a constituency that would have the largest population were it to become the 48th county. But representation will not happen if diaspora itself as the main stakeholder, does not stand up as a formidable bloc with a powerful voice that unites around issues. If we keep on with the fragmentation and self-sabotage, all we'll remain is a remittances-spewing constituency incessantly complaining about being ignored, like an old sod with a million aches that no one wants to talk to but everyone wants to take advantage of.
We must make ourselves into a constituency that leaders want to talk to, give a seat at the negotiating table, welcome into the power corridors to shape policy. We operate as individuals out to strike our own personal deals. At best, this makes one or two individuals rich but it wins us nothing as diaspora. What we need to start with is the courage to reignite a diaspora organization that we can count on to unify our common interests. It's fine, albeit parochial, that we have a thousand diaspora organizations that reflect our diversity. They remain narrow and exclusive. What we desperately need is at least one that stands out to champion our common identity and shared diaspora goals. This challenge is like gathering the winds. It sounds impossible; it can be done.
Going forward, let's determine to:
If we follow these five steps, we will move more mountains and help build our Zion into a country where merely surviving shifts to thriving for every citizen.
Apr 2013 © mkmc
It's interesting how people, things, or landmarks that shape the earth get discovered as if they never existed.One day, a family of four young children and their parents set off on a long and urgent journey to their upcountry home. They were riding in a car in the middle of the night, with the father driving, the mother at the passenger seat.
It was pitch black outside, nothing but stretches of bush and the car rippling along on a murram road. That family still had hundreds of miles to go when suddenly, the steady bippity-bump of the car turned to a raggedy limp. They had a puncture.
The father had no way of fixing it himself. His only choice was to take off the punctured tire, hitch a ride to the next far-out township, get it fixed and hitch another ride back. He could either wait with his family in the car till daybreak to accomplish this or flag down the next vehicle in the middle of the night.
Waiting till daybreak meant longer hours on a bandit-ridden road with all manner of wildlife going about. Taking the next vehicle meant harrowing hours of separation from his family, not knowing what might befall them while he was gone. Tough decisions had to be made.
The children, groggy with fatigue, sensed the fear. What if a poisonous snake bit them while trying to help themselves, or bandits pausing as helpers attacked their father as he sought help, or a truck rammed into their stationary car in the blinding darkness...
And so it is for a nation. When people get fixated on what might go wrong in the process of a fearful journey, the fear grows and becomes the issue. Getting to the destination safely becomes muffled by the paranoid opinions of pundits, skewed statistics of pollsters, and fanatic opinion of sycophants.
In the present Kenyan situation, the pundits, the statisticians and the sycophants dominate the pre-election story; their fears and spin shape the country's psyche. These will come and go, and we will be left with a post-election future to shape, a journey of 40 million people travelling together.
It's a journey with the promise that whatever the outcome, we will use our best institutions, our sharpest minds, and our highest aspirations to fix our punctured souls and make it safely to our destination, the place where Kenya's most vulnerable are assured of getting there and thriving.
As for the family stranded on a bandit-ridden road in the deep of the night, the choice was made for the father to hitch a ride on the next vehicle that stopped. After several fearful hours of waiting, sounds of the wild howling and hissing every now and then, trucks bumbling past and missing their stationary car by inches, a mother keeping her children as safe as she could in the engulfing darkness, the father returned with the tire fixed and ready to get the family back on the road.
They got to their destination hours late, worn out, dusty and hungry, but in one piece, appreciating life and each other more. I was one of the children in that car on a trip from Kitui to Taita many years ago.
There is nothing normal about the March 4th elections, but we must remember that we are a family, and we need to get to March 5th in one piece, appreciating each other more, ready to embark on the longer journey of nation-building.
Feb 2013 © mkmc
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Coming Soon!
From the director of
Kenya National Theatre
blockbusters:
Pambazuka! '96 & Subira '97
comes another heart‑stopper
puma /breath ‑ pulse
Labored breath, pulse erratic
We purge and search among the dead
For a miracle, a child's paradise
mkmc (c) 2013
Coming to the Kenya National Theatre
Playwright: Mkawasi Mcharo Hall
Two best friends set off to find someone who does not want to be found. What is life like when there's no one there to give applause to your proudest moment, no one except the very person who has rejected you?
Adaptive Mobile Design
kenyaonlineradio.com • USA (c) 2014