A couple Peace Corps friends have passed around links to some Kenyan Music Videos. For all those who are interested, here are some links: "Kuna Dawa" (There's Medicine), "Nakupenda Yesu" (I Love You Jesus), "First Lady," "Hallo Hallo Nataka Kuongea na Mariko" (Hi, Hi, I want to speak with Mariko), and "Nikiwa Ndani" (When I'm at Home-- lit. When I'm Inside).
(With special thanks to RPCV Amy Yates.)
Monday, January 29, 2007
Fiction: "The Cell"
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie just published a fictional story called "Cell One." She's a Nigerian-born author who made something of a stir in African literature with her book Purple Hibiscus, which I read a couple years ago.
Her new story, published in the New Yorker, is a narrator's sort of sad reminiscence of her mischievous older brother. It's worth checking out.
Her new story, published in the New Yorker, is a narrator's sort of sad reminiscence of her mischievous older brother. It's worth checking out.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Three Bright Kids and the Swamp of "Development"
Poverty is one of the most difficult things to get used. Having lived in Kenya for almost three years now, I'm surprised at how it still affects me.
On Saturday I was invited to a meeting of a half deaf, half hearing group. The leader of the organization invited along three deaf children from the area. They are two sisters and their brother. They had been attending Mumias School for the Deaf in Western Kenya. Now they were stuck at a hearing primary school in Donholm.
Why didn't they go back to Mumias? They couldn't pay their boarding fees.
Deaf schools are much fewer than hearing schools, and not many students can afford to travel to and from home every day. So, the schools offer boarding facilities at a rate of something like 10,000/- per year ($143).
This challenge has pushed parents and the ministry toward “mainstreaming”: putting deaf kids at nearby hearing schools. The same thing happens in America, often with interpreters. Whatever one thinks of “mainstreaming,” it's clear that for it to be remotely successful, the deaf kids should at least have access to what the teacher is saying through sign language. (Preferably Kenyan Sign Language, though at least a sign language.)
“Do the teachers at Donholm know sign language?” I ask them.
“Nothing,” they say.
I don't ask if they have interpreters. I know that they don't.
Looking at these three bright kids (Class four, eight and Form two; i.e. 4th grade, 8th grade, and a high school sophomore), I'm moved to try to help them. Maybe I can find a way for these kids to get back to Mumias. Raising around $500 shouldn't be too difficult.
But paying school fees doesn't change the system. One year from now these kids will still need assistance. Not to mention that there are hundreds of other kids (deaf and other "special needs" children) who don't attend school for the same reason.
Above all else, though, is this disturbing fact: there are a number of rich people here. People drive around in fancy cars, live in lavish houses, and send their kids to the top private schools. Just because Kenya is a poor country, it doesn't mean that there are no extremely wealthy people here.
How long will western countries “adopt” Africa's poor? If Americans and Europeans feel they have a social obligation to assist, how can they make sure that the communities that they're helping are not simply neglecting their own obligations?
Here's the point: social ills are best solved by the local societies themselves. American donors ship over the money, have little-to-no oversight as to how that money is used, and actually deter the local people from taking up their own social responsibilities. The government and the private sector need to join hands to address their massive community problems.
But, as a Kenyan once told me, “dollars are so sweet.” Not to mention that they often come with few strings attached. It's a lot easier to get an American to give out $20 than to get a Kenyan to give out the same amount in shillings (1,400/-).
So this is what pains me: getting the specific examples of people who need help, yet knowing that, as of now, I do not represent a long-term solution to this problem. And offering short-term solutions lowers the need for local communities to step up and address their own problems.
On Saturday I was invited to a meeting of a half deaf, half hearing group. The leader of the organization invited along three deaf children from the area. They are two sisters and their brother. They had been attending Mumias School for the Deaf in Western Kenya. Now they were stuck at a hearing primary school in Donholm.
Why didn't they go back to Mumias? They couldn't pay their boarding fees.
Deaf schools are much fewer than hearing schools, and not many students can afford to travel to and from home every day. So, the schools offer boarding facilities at a rate of something like 10,000/- per year ($143).
This challenge has pushed parents and the ministry toward “mainstreaming”: putting deaf kids at nearby hearing schools. The same thing happens in America, often with interpreters. Whatever one thinks of “mainstreaming,” it's clear that for it to be remotely successful, the deaf kids should at least have access to what the teacher is saying through sign language. (Preferably Kenyan Sign Language, though at least a sign language.)
“Do the teachers at Donholm know sign language?” I ask them.
“Nothing,” they say.
I don't ask if they have interpreters. I know that they don't.
Looking at these three bright kids (Class four, eight and Form two; i.e. 4th grade, 8th grade, and a high school sophomore), I'm moved to try to help them. Maybe I can find a way for these kids to get back to Mumias. Raising around $500 shouldn't be too difficult.
But paying school fees doesn't change the system. One year from now these kids will still need assistance. Not to mention that there are hundreds of other kids (deaf and other "special needs" children) who don't attend school for the same reason.
Above all else, though, is this disturbing fact: there are a number of rich people here. People drive around in fancy cars, live in lavish houses, and send their kids to the top private schools. Just because Kenya is a poor country, it doesn't mean that there are no extremely wealthy people here.
How long will western countries “adopt” Africa's poor? If Americans and Europeans feel they have a social obligation to assist, how can they make sure that the communities that they're helping are not simply neglecting their own obligations?
Here's the point: social ills are best solved by the local societies themselves. American donors ship over the money, have little-to-no oversight as to how that money is used, and actually deter the local people from taking up their own social responsibilities. The government and the private sector need to join hands to address their massive community problems.
But, as a Kenyan once told me, “dollars are so sweet.” Not to mention that they often come with few strings attached. It's a lot easier to get an American to give out $20 than to get a Kenyan to give out the same amount in shillings (1,400/-).
So this is what pains me: getting the specific examples of people who need help, yet knowing that, as of now, I do not represent a long-term solution to this problem. And offering short-term solutions lowers the need for local communities to step up and address their own problems.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The Bishop Gets Burned
In America, highly publicized scandals related to the church often deal with sexual relationships between men of the cloth and young boys. Kenya, with its own very robust Christian ministry, is not without its share of scandals.
Today, Taifa Leo reports that Pastor Gideon Mulwa Mutisya from the Salvation Joy Gospel Centre “tricked” a 14 year old girl into believing that he was sending her somewhere to get a job. Then, after convincing her to stay at his house, he raped her:
“[M]tumishi wa Mungu alimshika kwa nguvu na kumvua nguo zote. Lakini msichana huyo alikataa kufanya naye mapenzi na wakang'anga'ania kwa muda mrefu hadi mshtakiwa alipomshinda nguvu baada ya kuchoka na kumnajisi.”
(The servant of God forcefully grabbed her and took off all her clothes. But the girl refused to have sex with him and they struggled for a long time until she became tired and the accused overpowered her and raped her.)
This, you might think, would be a scandal. Deserving of headlines. It isn't.
No, the bigger, more blockbuster news centers on a Kenyan Bishop (of Jesus is Alive Ministries) named Margaret Wanjiru. A couple weeks ago Wanjiru, who's running for a Parliamentary seat this year, brought her South African fiancé to church.
A couple days later, James Kamangu said he married Wanjiru in 1978 following Kikuyu customary laws. After five years and two children, he said, they separated. Apparently what stirred him out of his silence was Wanjiru's claim that her “boyfriend” was a “drunkard.” He just wanted Wanjiru to clear his name.
Kamangu is clearly a poor man, making ends meet as a cobbler and potter. Wanjiru, on the other hand, is doing very well for herself. Responding to Kamangu's claim that he paid a 3,000/- dowry in 1978, to roars of laughter, she asked her congregation, “Do I look like a 3,000/- woman?”
It's a smart political technique: twisting numbers to create false impressions. Who could believe that this woman, now a very successful and well-to-do woman could have been bought off for a measly 3,000/- ($43)? Even a modest dowry runs 50-100,000/- ($714-$1428).
But a shilling today and a shilling 30 years ago are drastically different things. In 1978, according to my admittedly imperfect calculations, 3,000/- was roughly $1,000. (See the 1978 exchange rate and convert to 2005 dollars.)
She went on to publicly ridicule Kamangu, denying that she ever had a relationship with him. The congregation cheered her on, as she continued: “The man who is making those claims has hands which appear as though they have been eaten by jiggers. He looks miserable. He can go look for a rope and hang himself somewhere. We shall do a funeral.” (emphasis added)
Now that's scandal: a Bishop standing in front of her congregation, publicly telling a man to go and hang himself. If the comment wasn't outrageous enough, the evidence suggests that she's lying. Hospital records and circumstantial evidence suggests that Kamangu really is her ex-husband and the father of at least two of her sons. (Maybe three?)
Wanjiru's wedding to the South African Pastor has now turned into a media circus. Instead of it being the success story of a poor, single mother putting her life together and rising to the top, some Kenyans, with that same robust Christianity, are citing passages in the bible that suggest she cannot remarry until her first husband dies. (The bible doesn't exactly recognize divorce.)
Clearly Wanjiru, who has said that she believes one day God will help her become President of Kenya, has handled this whole thing disastrously. As a bishop and political candidate, she needs to learn how to control her emotions, language, and, above all, her relationship with the truth.
Being a politician doesn't mean being honest about everything--though one wishes that was the requirement for both religious and political leaders--but it does mean knowing how to tip-toe around topics that will damage your reputation.
Wanjiru cannot seem to bring herself to admit that she had a relationship with Kamangu, but she doesn't mind confessing to having been a witch, graduating from black to white to red withcraft. Claiming to have bewitched people doesn't seem to strike her or her supporters as damaging her reputation. (Update: My co-worker suggests that the more dramatic the conversion, the larger the congregation.) As she tells the story, she met a Nigerian Evangelist, gave her life to Jesus and underwent a “total transformation, a Holy Ghost baptism of fire.”
These past few weeks have been Wanjiru's political baptism of fire. Can she recover from it?
Update 2: A link for Wanjiru's Jesus is Alive Ministries. It's worth glancing at if you're vaguely interested in African Christianity. Includes this eye-opening line: "Following a prophecy by a visiting US preacher, Prophetess Brenda Todd, Bishop Wanjiru announced the decision to plunge into the political arena [...]." Here's more about Brenda Todd.
Today, Taifa Leo reports that Pastor Gideon Mulwa Mutisya from the Salvation Joy Gospel Centre “tricked” a 14 year old girl into believing that he was sending her somewhere to get a job. Then, after convincing her to stay at his house, he raped her:
“[M]tumishi wa Mungu alimshika kwa nguvu na kumvua nguo zote. Lakini msichana huyo alikataa kufanya naye mapenzi na wakang'anga'ania kwa muda mrefu hadi mshtakiwa alipomshinda nguvu baada ya kuchoka na kumnajisi.”
(The servant of God forcefully grabbed her and took off all her clothes. But the girl refused to have sex with him and they struggled for a long time until she became tired and the accused overpowered her and raped her.)
This, you might think, would be a scandal. Deserving of headlines. It isn't.
No, the bigger, more blockbuster news centers on a Kenyan Bishop (of Jesus is Alive Ministries) named Margaret Wanjiru. A couple weeks ago Wanjiru, who's running for a Parliamentary seat this year, brought her South African fiancé to church.
A couple days later, James Kamangu said he married Wanjiru in 1978 following Kikuyu customary laws. After five years and two children, he said, they separated. Apparently what stirred him out of his silence was Wanjiru's claim that her “boyfriend” was a “drunkard.” He just wanted Wanjiru to clear his name.
Kamangu is clearly a poor man, making ends meet as a cobbler and potter. Wanjiru, on the other hand, is doing very well for herself. Responding to Kamangu's claim that he paid a 3,000/- dowry in 1978, to roars of laughter, she asked her congregation, “Do I look like a 3,000/- woman?”
It's a smart political technique: twisting numbers to create false impressions. Who could believe that this woman, now a very successful and well-to-do woman could have been bought off for a measly 3,000/- ($43)? Even a modest dowry runs 50-100,000/- ($714-$1428).
But a shilling today and a shilling 30 years ago are drastically different things. In 1978, according to my admittedly imperfect calculations, 3,000/- was roughly $1,000. (See the 1978 exchange rate and convert to 2005 dollars.)
She went on to publicly ridicule Kamangu, denying that she ever had a relationship with him. The congregation cheered her on, as she continued: “The man who is making those claims has hands which appear as though they have been eaten by jiggers. He looks miserable. He can go look for a rope and hang himself somewhere. We shall do a funeral.” (emphasis added)
Now that's scandal: a Bishop standing in front of her congregation, publicly telling a man to go and hang himself. If the comment wasn't outrageous enough, the evidence suggests that she's lying. Hospital records and circumstantial evidence suggests that Kamangu really is her ex-husband and the father of at least two of her sons. (Maybe three?)
Wanjiru's wedding to the South African Pastor has now turned into a media circus. Instead of it being the success story of a poor, single mother putting her life together and rising to the top, some Kenyans, with that same robust Christianity, are citing passages in the bible that suggest she cannot remarry until her first husband dies. (The bible doesn't exactly recognize divorce.)
Clearly Wanjiru, who has said that she believes one day God will help her become President of Kenya, has handled this whole thing disastrously. As a bishop and political candidate, she needs to learn how to control her emotions, language, and, above all, her relationship with the truth.
Being a politician doesn't mean being honest about everything--though one wishes that was the requirement for both religious and political leaders--but it does mean knowing how to tip-toe around topics that will damage your reputation.
Wanjiru cannot seem to bring herself to admit that she had a relationship with Kamangu, but she doesn't mind confessing to having been a witch, graduating from black to white to red withcraft. Claiming to have bewitched people doesn't seem to strike her or her supporters as damaging her reputation. (Update: My co-worker suggests that the more dramatic the conversion, the larger the congregation.) As she tells the story, she met a Nigerian Evangelist, gave her life to Jesus and underwent a “total transformation, a Holy Ghost baptism of fire.”
These past few weeks have been Wanjiru's political baptism of fire. Can she recover from it?
Update 2: A link for Wanjiru's Jesus is Alive Ministries. It's worth glancing at if you're vaguely interested in African Christianity. Includes this eye-opening line: "Following a prophecy by a visiting US preacher, Prophetess Brenda Todd, Bishop Wanjiru announced the decision to plunge into the political arena [...]." Here's more about Brenda Todd.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Woe to the Reader
When I didn't really know a foreign language, I always got annoyed whenever some author tried to slip one into a novel.
"Oh yes," I would imagine myself rather sarcastically telling the author, "you're so intelligent for knowing all these different languages and by translating for us, the poor hapless readers, you're doing us such a great service!"
Well, what can I say? I like Swahili words. It's more interesting. It's become the language of life (and love) for me. I suppose I'm taking a chance on annoying you, my dear reader. Forgive me my excesses.
If it makes you feel any better, I still regularly make mistakes in speaking--saying nazi (coconut) instead of nanasi (pineapple)--and in comprehending speech. Learning a second language is a battle of will and determination. (Though that battle can be much easier or more difficult depending on the context.)
Of course, there's Swahili on a couple spots on this page. For those readers who want to know: Nyumbani Kwetu means "our home." Wapenzi Wawili probably best translates as "the two who are in love with each other."
I'll try to do my best translating Swahili wherever it appears. I might even ask Halako to post in Swahili, if she feels more comfortable with doing that. Under those posts, we would translate it back to English.
There's a great online Swahili dictionary here but as anyone who's tried to study a language knows, a dictionary will only take you so far....
"Oh yes," I would imagine myself rather sarcastically telling the author, "you're so intelligent for knowing all these different languages and by translating for us, the poor hapless readers, you're doing us such a great service!"
Well, what can I say? I like Swahili words. It's more interesting. It's become the language of life (and love) for me. I suppose I'm taking a chance on annoying you, my dear reader. Forgive me my excesses.
If it makes you feel any better, I still regularly make mistakes in speaking--saying nazi (coconut) instead of nanasi (pineapple)--and in comprehending speech. Learning a second language is a battle of will and determination. (Though that battle can be much easier or more difficult depending on the context.)
Of course, there's Swahili on a couple spots on this page. For those readers who want to know: Nyumbani Kwetu means "our home." Wapenzi Wawili probably best translates as "the two who are in love with each other."
I'll try to do my best translating Swahili wherever it appears. I might even ask Halako to post in Swahili, if she feels more comfortable with doing that. Under those posts, we would translate it back to English.
There's a great online Swahili dictionary here but as anyone who's tried to study a language knows, a dictionary will only take you so far....
Mwaka Mpya Wenye Fanaka na Heri!
(A New Year with Success and Blessings!)
This is my New Year's resolution: finally get that blog off the ground. So here it is. Our blog.
The real danger here is that this becomes my blog. I really don't want that to happen. I hope that Halako can contribute to this regularly as well. There are, of course, linguistic, technological, and practical reasons why she might not feel like writing as much as I probably will.
Speaking of the new year, here at work we were trying to get some original drawings of KSL signs for "happy," "new," and "year." No luck: our own attempts fell short.
So we needed to outsource it. I got in touch with the great, amazing, reliable and downright lovely (am I making you blush yet?) Laura Brandt. She came up with these three excellent, simple, clear drawings. All she had to go on was a couple pics we sent by email and my clumsy directions. Amazingly, she put it all together at the last minute. Yeah, I owe her big.
This is my New Year's resolution: finally get that blog off the ground. So here it is. Our blog.
The real danger here is that this becomes my blog. I really don't want that to happen. I hope that Halako can contribute to this regularly as well. There are, of course, linguistic, technological, and practical reasons why she might not feel like writing as much as I probably will.
Speaking of the new year, here at work we were trying to get some original drawings of KSL signs for "happy," "new," and "year." No luck: our own attempts fell short.
So we needed to outsource it. I got in touch with the great, amazing, reliable and downright lovely (am I making you blush yet?) Laura Brandt. She came up with these three excellent, simple, clear drawings. All she had to go on was a couple pics we sent by email and my clumsy directions. Amazingly, she put it all together at the last minute. Yeah, I owe her big.
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