Just when shall we lose our tribal cocoons?

Tribal Cocoon

It’s been a long time, over 2 months since I penned an article. If it were a homecoming, I am sure you could have sung one of those ‘hodi…karibu’ songs from your place. What I do not know is where to start or what to say before what. A lot has happened; the much hyped SabaSaba rally  came and went, the presidential escort BMW was stolen and recovered…somewhere deep in Uganda, and the highlight of the series of dramas happening in Kenya was when Baba wa Taifa, Nyayo if you like, mkulima nambari moja, mwalimu nambari moja etc, turned 90. The irony of nature’s rewarding ability or do we call it nature’s forgiving heart? Oh, how I missed updating you on all these happenings! Anyway, I am back.
 

I thought that I had preached enough about the venom that is tribalism, before taking my well-deserved leave from writing. What grabs my attention and refuses to let go, is just how unconsciously and carelessly we keep spewing this poison. The cocoons that we conveniently run in to when we realize we have nothing else to be proud of but our sir names. It’s until the day Red Cross shall stop its services in Mandera, that we shall realize there’s a problem. Luckily, Abass does not give up that easily; however, we pushed him way far this time round. Sadly the Mandera killings do not seem to surprise anyone any more. It may be a matter of national concern, but we have seriously not thought about the misery of our brothers at the far north. 

In the Northern Kenya, two tribes do not seem to realize that there exists a word like peace in the dictionary of life. Needless to say, inter-clan clashes have become the norm; and if you are born in this part of Kenya, then you have to be literally born with a bullet in your palm, if not a gun. The thought of suffering women and children pierces my already troubled heart. Every so often, I read from the bible of Ukabila Zi Society, which preaches against negative ethnicity, and yes, it dawns on me just how unreal and impractical the verses could be. Well, this is my feeling because I still do not seem to understand why two tribes in the most remote part of Kenya could be fighting. These people do not seem to realize just how trivial an ideal it is to keep on holding on to their tribes. 

Exit Mandera clashes, enter Awasi women’s story! It’s a heart-breaking story of these women’s daily struggle to find water amidst the fear of being attacked and sexually harassed. For a moment, I thought that we would jam all the communication lines, media and other available channels as we called upon the Awasi leaders to account for their leadership responsibilities. Sadly, this was not to be…once again, I was disappointed as fellow Kenyans took the easier route, that of sliding back to their tribal cocoons! Easily as it has become, they called Julie all sort of names accusing her of hating on their tribe. As we were busy insulting this lady, who thought it best to highlight the plight of Awasi women, we forgot that she was just but a reporter, reporting the plight of these women as they had spoken to her, as usual we stoned the messenger!  For some, Julie had attacked a “tribe.” We failed miserably to stand up for our sisters in Awasi who exchange their bodies for water; instead, we sought to smear mud on Julie who has no water problems…very sad!

To all those tribal fanatics out there, “Kenya Ni Jina, Nchi Ni Mimi Na Wewe!”

An article by Sarah Makena
Co-founder: Ukabila Zi Society