The juxtaposition that is Kenya, and indeed most of Africa, is a characteristic of all economies on the no man’s land between technological advancement and a backward existence. It is a sorry yet necessary stage as nations fight to cross the divide that removes them from ‘developing’ nations and puts them, hopefully forever, in the group of the ‘developed.’ Who would think a simple difference in the ending of an otherwise similar word, could signify so much. Develop –ing versus Develop – ed; a deep gorge divides them, you need years to cross and, from the look of things, some may never cross.
It’s a state where, for most nations, the gap between the haves and have nots is usually just as deep as that between developed and undeveloped (again, such a small difference). It’s where some live in rat infested, sewage flooded neighbourhoods while others float around in kingly and queenly mansions. Some ride chariots while others ride donkeys; for some there’s a dress for every occasion while others have one dress for all occasions.
Fellow countrymen do not recognize each other. The haves cannot believe or understand how anyone can be so poor, while the have-nots marvel at the sight of such riches and luxuries the other side enjoys. Every conceivable modern comfort is available to those who can afford it, while most others are still stuck in the dark ages from their humble, temporary or semi-permanent dwellings, to the simple stone age implements which pass for technology and help ease their labours a little. So the rich goes to bed happy and refreshed after riding his farm tractor around for an hour or so cultivating his massive farmland, while the poor sleeps with nearly broken back after spending all day with hoe, jembe or panga tilling his little half acre of subsistence farm.
In between is the interaction that joins the two worlds together, occasionally causing them to brush against each other, making the Forward to remember yester years and the Backward to long for a better future, thereby birthing ambition.
Technology meets primitive farm appliances as mama takes a break from tilling the land with hoe, jembe or panga in order to answer a call on her mobile phone from her son in Nairobi or abroad somewhere. Later that evening she passes by the local shop to collect money sent to her by her children through M-Pesa (mobile phone money transfer).
Young adults looking for work pour into cyber cafes to surf the net after a hard day’s job helping mama in the farm, or just roaming the City streets hoping to make productive acquaintances.
Seven star estates border slum areas, potholed roads exit from modern motorways, sprawling modern farmland neighbours poor, subsistence agriculture; hoes and jembes compete with advanced farm machinery in crop production. Well equipped, national and international, public and private schools fight it out with barely equipped shanty schools in national exams; five star hospitals coexist with make-believe clinics run by unqualified, self professed medics.
Expansive grasslands teeming with wildlife parallel well built cities or agricultural zones; scorched out desert lands meet with greened out fertile regions. Hills and mountains quickly give way to flattened plains, and land eventually melts into the expansive Indian Ocean, or Lake Victoria, or any of the other several inland lakes in Kenya.
Little, well fed spoilt kids see African images of malnourished or starving children in need of international aid on TV and ask, ‘that’s supposed to be us? We are supposed to look like that and get donor aid?’ While little, cold and shivering children in tattered clothes watch their neighbors driven to school in huge fuel guzzlers and go, ‘you mean it’s possible to live like that? That’s someone’s car? That’s a house for one family? Schools like those exist in Kenya?’
Beautiful, blue chip multinationals carve their niche alongside jua kali (informal sector) artisans and street vendors; working class masses in suits and white collars compete for a bus ride alongside contractual workers headed for industrial area, not assured of a job for the day. An even larger group makes it on foot either from Eastlands or Kibera headed for the same Industrial area.
Universities spew out talent and skills by the thousands every year, while a few other thousands drop out of school for lack of fees. Several starry eyed graduates get new jobs while yet more others are laid off in a ‘restructuring’ process. Banks issuing huge loans to lucky employees for cars, houses and all sorts of assets fight it out with informal community groups painstakingly saving their money little by little in chamas (societies), hoping to get a small loan to help out in the little business of selling sukuma wiki (greens).
Some rear horses while others rear chicken and rabbits. Some give their German Shepherds and poodles a bath in the tub while others chase their flea infested beasts as far away as possible from their semi-permanent shelters.
Eventually a country must cross no-man’s land and emerge on the other side. Many have already done so and we call them ‘developed’, a term well earned as it’s difficult to attain. No man’s land is no place of permanence. It’s a limbo that signifies pain for a large segment of the population as modernity disrupts whatever comfort they may earlier have enjoyed in their simple existence, while yet they are unable to afford the luxuries that same modernity should otherwise bring them.
Land is lost to new developments; pastoralists no longer have enough pasture as they can’t roam around wherever they wish any more. Dams drown out farmland. New and modern settlements eat into agricultural land. Traditional, nutritious foods are replaced with quickly growing, mass produced GMOs full of unresolved debate. Flower farms and irrigation schemes nearly dry out beautiful lakes and rivers as they channel the water to their red, green and white gold. Beautiful rivers turn filthy as industries wantonly empty their waste into them.
The masses, left with little or no alternative, their simple livelihoods now all but destroyed, turn to their new financial masters for jobs and casual labour, where they are mercilessly exploited with wages that can hardly buy them food, let alone any other necessities.
No-man’s land is no place to linger for a self-respecting society. It’s a place we must strive to quickly get out of, bridging the gap between the rich and the poor, and swelling our middle class in the process. We must quickly move to ensure all basic needs are available in decent form to all our citizens so we can cross this all-important barrier and have a sense of uniformity, where no Kenyan child goes to bed hungry, is unable to access decent housing, education or medical care. Policies must not only be put in place but also be implemented to ensure the haves come down from their high towers and the have nots rise from the ashes - and we all truly meet in the middle, a place we can all happily call Kenya, and ourselves, Kenyans!
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