Planting Seeds of Peace

In the last ten days of January, as the violence in the Rift Valley spread from Eldoret to Nakuru and then Naivasha, the nature of the aggression changed. From political, the rationale became personal – and as a result wildly out of control. By the beginning of February, as helicopters circled Naivasha, the outskirts of Nairobi were in flames. Thika rioted, and angry protesters besieged Limuru. Closer into town, Tom Oketch, walking to his home near Kibera from a long tough day struggling to implement peace initiatives with a blindly angry public could only watch when two people were lynched in front of him.

At this point, he nearly gave up. Eighteen hour days, seven days a week, full of talks, discussions, peace meetings; all of it seemed pointless as he watched the irrational murder taking place a few feet away, unable to help the victims or remove himself from the situation.

“I felt it was all futile,” explained Tom. “I knew I could spend hours in discussion with someone who promised to remain calm, but could and did turn to violence just as easily and irrationally the following day, his eyes and ears blind for the brief moments it took to snuff out another life, to loot or burn houses and businesses. I was watching it happen”

It was as if a madness had affected everyone and it was out of control, resulting in gruesome killings countrywide.

Fortunately Tom didn’t give up. The following day he attended the regular Peace forum organised by CCP, and reported on the grim state of affairs. He returned to the regular beat of peace meetings, and kept trudging, kept working.

Tom is a volunteer – both with the Lavie Foundation that came into being in 2000 when the Nubians clashed with Luos over rents in overcrowded Kibera, and of the Nairobi Peace Forum that drew together 33 groups during January 2008 in a bid to coordinate a cohesive strategy to cope with the post election violence across the slum areas of Nairobi.

A practiced peacemaker his experience at Lavie, made him wise to the signs of burgeoning unrest. Walking the mud-rutted tracks of Kibera before the election he saw more markers of dissent as tribes polarised -He heard tough talk at the regular Sunday meetings in Kamakunji on a Sunday where Luos would meet and discuss both politics and local affairs. The split began to form – Luo’s with ODM and Kikuyus with PNU. He knew a crisis was close at hand.

On the day of election tensions were running extremely high. Many Luo names were missing from the electoral register – including Raila’s. ECK chairman Kivuitu came to visit Kibera and told people they could vote even if their names were not on the register, and even without ID’s. This cooled the situation down a bit. Tom and fellow volunteers circulated at the meeting, targeting leaders, asking them to talk to the few people they could, urging them to keep peace. “This approach, with time has impact and prevents too much agitation,” he said.

But there was little Tom or any of the volunteers could do in the fretful uncertain days following the election. The violence surged up and around them. They went from Kibera, to Mathare persuading people to stay calm but tempers ran too high.

“All we could do was inform police of what was happening,” said Tom “It wasn’t helpful because the police were so biased as well as liberal with the teargas and bullets.” They often called off planned actions – like in Toi market where a crowd threatened to burn them and they had to run from the meeting they were trying to set up. They couldn’t even go to places like Katwekera because of the militant way the Luos there held out and fought against anyone who tried to enter.

At about this time the Nairobi Youth Forum came into being. A conglomeration of organisation working in slum areas, it was formed to provide a comprehensive network of activity across all the poor urban settlements and it elected Tom as its representative.

Each day NYF responded to calls for help. “One time we had a gang stopping people at night and robbing everyone. They had taken over a road in Korogocho and forced all passers by to pay each time they entered or left. We were able to scatter them with the help of the provincial administration.”

As things began to calm down they held forums, mixing all tribes in often heated discussions, allowing people to air grievances. They did street talks – stopping at a cobblers or groups playing chess and engaging them in conversation “Everyone wants to talk politics,” he said “we would add to the debate by asking what sort of peace they were creating and reminding them of their role in the atmosphere of the place they lived. That sobered them up and often resulted in people reflecting on their role in the violence.”

Still he feels that their work – even though it consumed him night and day – is just a dribble in the sea of humanity squished into the densely populated parts of Kibera, Mathare and Kawangware where he works. “We might reach 100 people in a day – in a place where there are 800,000. It’s a long and slow process.”

It was often disheartening. Tom met many dishonest peacemakers, particularly pastors who would say one thing to him, and then incite violence from the pulpit with their followers.

“I learned that people can do anything,” he said “We are all very civil and then we turn into animals in a moment. It has been a revelation to me – anybody has that potential. I even saw clergy looting – carrying things away from burnt-out shops.”

Tom hasn’t flinched in telling truths, however painful. He is not the sort to use the expression “a certain community”

He reported on the partisanship of the Red Cross in distributing aid, and on how Martha Karua and Beth Mugo took food to Jamhuri IDP camp and insisted it be served only to Kikuyus. He’s taken umbrage with the violence perpetrated and organised in Kamakunji by the Luos.

In his regular updates at the CCP meetings Tom aims to represent the mood of the slums as accurately as he can.

“Most people living in these areas don’t live as they would have wished to. They can’t find work, can’t bring people to visit especially if they are from a more upmarket estate. So they get trapped in their villages getting drunk and angry. They do without food or health services, struggle with water and suffer many indignities.”

He spends much time currently trying to help with employment. He leapt at the opportunity to use 100’s of black plastic crates generously donated by a flower company to help small businesses start again using them in a variety of ways – for storage, carriage, and construction.

He spends much time correcting myths – “People don’t believe there aren’t jobs available and think that Kibaki is hoarding all the high and low paid for Kikuyus. Of course that creates enmity. Many people regard jobs in town in offices or factories as real work, while running a kiosk or a small business is considered temporary until a “proper” job can be found. We teach them to see their entrepreneurship as valid and important since they have created a job for themselves.”

Right now he is actively searching for funding for small organisations who do strong grassroots work but don’t have the right legal set up to access established funding streams.

“Tom is so busy,” said a co-worker. “He has given so much time, energy to bringing about peace and harmony.”

“There won’t be papers written about me,” he said modestly, “but I know I contributing to helping this bad situation. “I wrote statements, made calls, walked the streets, and worked on conciliation. This is my passion. Right back to school and college I was the sort of person that challenged and questioned issues. I liked working with others and I liked dealing with social problems. This has been the biggest challenge of all, but if one person responds and lays down his panga, then I know I have helped clearing a way forward.”

Mercy’s Mission

For three days after the hurried December announcement that Kibaki was to be president, Mercy Gichangi sat in her house, stunned and afraid. As 2007 gave way to 2008 she could find no cause for celebration. All around her, chaos was in charge. Day and night she could hear shouts and wailing, could see bashed-in houses and torched kiosks, the result of angry citizenry on both sides giving vent to their feelings about the General Election. Many of those rioting, yelling, and beating were youth, and that touched Mercy. It was this that gave her the push she needed to come out of hiding.

She was sure her skills as a consultant, formed through a university degree in economics, a training stint in Leadership at the National Democratic Institute in Lavington, a Master’s in International Relations, and experience in Mandera and Southern Sudan would be of use. Stints in Mandera and Southern Sudan had tested and honed this expertise.

“I was particularly interested in gathering and mobilising young people to think differently,” she said. They are, after all, our future, which is very bleak if they are the ones taking to the streets, looting and burning their neighbours.

Mercy first made it to the PeaceNet meetings. However there was already a youth co-ordinator there. She had heard of another group, Concerned Citizens for Peace (CCP) through a news item on TV, and decided to try there. And it was here she found her niche.

“CCP struck me as more individual oriented rather than NGO focussed,” explained Mercy. “Their approach is that if you have an idea, they will support you, but you have to run with it. You have to do the footwork.” That was fine with her. She had plenty of ideas. And she was ready to run.

Together with other volunteers and with a force that belied her slight, pinstriped frame she set about creating a structure that linked the various young people initiatives she came across. A network of 30 youth leaders from 20 groups across the slums formed a network called Balozi wa Amani to help co-ordinate a slew of peace initiatives. They in turn teamed with a host of NGOs ranging from UN Habitat to the Mwelu Foundation. Soon Mercy was co-ordinating a group of 60 people that made up the new grouping Concerned Youth for Peace (CYP).

Everyone worked on a volunteer basis, and everyone worked with a fierce energy, tackling each event with greater urgency in their desire to help mitigate the rising tides of violence in the slums. They arranged peace meetings, and created a countrywide National Youth Violence Prevention week. They organised football matches in Korogocho, a fashion show in Kibera, peace walks in Dandora, theatre in Huruma, poetry in Embakasi, community dialogue in all areas – anything that brought both sides together and allowed them to interact non-violently. Event after event was planned in Dandora, Mathare, Kibera, Huruma, Kawangware, focussing on reflection and forgiveness.

“I became adept at seeing things from the perspective of these marginalised young people,” said Mercy. “It gave me a whole new understanding of the problems those living in poor urban settlements face. Gainful employment, finding relevance and all the frustration that the absence of these can bring is as much a part of the issue as ethnicity.”

Of the various initiatives she co-ordinated, she feels most satisfied at the outcome of one of the first, a Night Vigil. “We had people coming from all the slums to attend the open forum, to speak their minds, and to cry. It was very moving to see these young people come forward to elaborate their opinions as to the way out of the conflict.”

But it wasn’t all easy. For the first six weeks she kept a low profile as she organised events, afraid that her actions might make her a target for retribution. “Because I worked with people from all communities, I stayed out of the limelight I didn’t want to be harassed by those who felt I should only work with those in my tribe. It has been a time of such pain – there are many who have really hard feelings because they lost a relative, or a business – or everything.” Then there were those who took one look at her tiny frame and dismissed her for being too young, too inexperienced. It was sometimes very discouraging, she said.

In the recent past, , Mercy has worked with the Mediae Trust – makers of TV soap Makutano Junction, and Slum TV – who arrange screenings of motivational movies to show a special episode of the popular programme that directly tackles violence and tribalism. “We had viewings in the evenings to distract youth from more harmful activities,” she explained. “It’s a great series made by Kenyans for Kenyans and including all tribes in the production and the performances.”

“Even though our audience know that it’s actors, I see many of them in tears when they watch that episode,” she says of the many screenings that Slum TV have made of the special Tribalism episode around Nairobi. A snippet is available for viewing on YouTube:

Two months on and she has seen much positive come out of their work. “The best is always when I see someone begin to turn around through a community dialogue or a training day and say that this can’t be allowed to happen in our country. Then I feel great, as though I have in some small way been able to help bring about transformation.”

CCP gave me a network to work with, and, in setting up CYP, it allowed me to help my country in this time of suffering, said Mercy.

As she makes her way back to the relative quiet of her home, she knows that she has played her part in the effort to achieve that peace.

Shalini Gidoomal is a freelance journalist, writer, businesswoman and inveterate traveller, born, and currently living in Nairobi. She has worked extensively on various UK and international magazines and newspapers, including The Independent, News of the World, Today, FHM, GQ and Architectural Digest. She profiled five Northern Irish photographers for the book Parallel Realities, and has worked in Kenya for the Standard and Camerapix. Her short stories and non- fiction have been published in The Obituary Tango, Jungfrau and Kwani 04. She is editorial co-ordinator for the GenerationKenya45 project and festival director of Kwani Litfest 2008.

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