|
Forging an African Nation
The Monitor (Kampala)
OPINION
10 February 2008
Arthur George Kamya
As a youngster, my parents (who spent the formative years of their
marriage in pre-independence Kenya) used to regale my siblings and
I with stories about a Kenya infested with competing (Luo against
Kikuyu) kabuti-clad, jembe-wielding, marauding gangs.
Later, when my parents went into exile in Kenya and I stayed back
in Uganda; Kenya, to my mind, was the epitome of a peaceful,
almost post-tribal cohesive African country.
Now, seeing television pictures of the same (albeit less
well-dressed) jembe-wielding gangs makes me wonder, was Pax Kenya,
1963 to 2007 a mirage? Has Kenya, contrary to conventional wisdom,
not been forged into an African nation?
Educating the young is one vehicle of molding a nation. Kenya,
perhaps owing to its sizeable white settler population, started
out with a segregated education system, with very good private/missionary-founded
schools and less good government-aided schools.
After independence, Kenyan elites set out on an orgy of building 'Harambee
schools' (self-help schools built largely out of the generosity
and financial prowess of local big-wigs) not for their children
but for those of their lesser tribesmen.
The Kenyan state further social-engineered the education system
for the non-elites by introducing the disastrous 8-4-4 system and
gazetting universities, colleges and technical institutes in all
kinds of places. The net result has been not only to lower
educational standards, but also to reduce the nationalising effect
of Kenya's educational institutions.
The introduction of Swahili as a national language was meant to
foster a genuinely Kenyan nation. Could it have had the opposite
effect? Is it possible that because of the use of Swahili, tribal
languages (such as Luo and Kikuyu) have remained parochial,
inaccessible to any but the tribal speakers? Has the use of
Swahili exacerbated the gap between the Luos and the Kikuyus since
neither had to make an effort to understand the others' language
and mores?
Since independence, Kenya has been obsessed with notions of
national/ethnic balancing. Because the president was Kikuyu, the
Vice-President had to be Luo or Kalenjin-Tugen and vice-versa.
Obsession with this bean-counting has been replicated throughout
the Kenyan state. Could it be that such obsession with ethnic
balancing has helped foster ethnic differentiation instead of
molding a cohesive Kenyan nation?
Land distribution is another social engineering tool that the
state has used to supposedly foster a Kenyan nation. In the name
of Africanisation, Jomo Kenyatta parcelled out land (in the
non-Kikuyu
majority Rift Valley areas) to the so-called heroes (mainly Kikuyu)
of the Uhuru struggle.
Post-Kenyatta but pre-Kibaki, land-ownership ethnic re-balancing
occurred in disfavour of the Rift Valley Kikuyus. These
ethnically-based ping-pong land reforms have more than a little to
do with the ethnic flare-ups that Kenya is experiencing today.
A nation can also be molded via its national symbols. Kenyan
school children were mandated to raise and salute the flag every
morning. The national anthem was translated into Swahili and sung
by all and sundry. Patriotic songs were composed and played ad
nauseam on state radio. State mottoes (harambee, nyayo) were the
rage. All for naught.
When push has come to shove, it is inter-tribal competition and
animosity that still define Kenya. The point of this my narrative
is twofold.
First, it is futile to socially engineer a nation from top down.
Imposing so-called democratising educational standards or a
national language or ethnic balances will not mould a multi-ethnic
country like Kenya into a single nation.
Neither will having a constitution or flag or national anthem. A
nation
is built by its people from the bottom up and not top-down by
state fiat.
Secondly, in comparison to Kenya, Uganda is probably more of a
successfully molded nation because of the lack of Kenya-style
top-down social engineering by past political regimes which were
thankfully
otherwise distracted. Uganda's education system, left to its own
devices for 40 years, can be faulted for many things. Not being a
nationalising mechanism is not one of them.
The proportion of non-Baganda educated at the likes of Budo and
Kisubi, non-Basoga from Mwiri, non-westerners from Nyakasura and
Ntare and non-northerners from Layibi is much larger than
non-Kikuyus educated from the likes of Kenya's Alliance High
School.
Cross-regional education was replicated lower down the educational
school tier in Uganda (Wanyange, Butiki, Kitovu, et al).
Whatever some might say, Luganda is the de facto national language
of Uganda. Other tribes' engagement and familiarity with Luganda
has had a more and not less nationalising effect. Ditto the
adoption of the so-called Kiganda busuuti and kanzu as national
dresses in the east and north (though strangely not in the west).
Land has comfortably changed hands back and forth among different
ethnic groups without significant problems over the years.
Ugandans have not been the worse for wear on account of the state
not insisting on political pieties such as the public honouring of
the flag (a fear-inducing martial symbol for many Ugandans),
singing the national anthem (lyrics unknown by most Ugandans) or
placing portraits of presidents everywhere.
Unfortunately, the present NRM government, having been in power
for so long, with little to show, is currently reaching for social
engineering props (such as the ones previously used by Kenya) to
justify its continual existence in power.
Government should be warned. In this path lies not a cohesive
nation but a disintegrating one.
|
