Finding Anchor in the Echoes of Biafran Storms

At the beginning of the year, in the throes of the US presidential election's woundedness, I borrowed these words penned by Rev. Frank Dunn, my former priest. Now I find myself needing to find anchor again as we go through the woundedness of Kenya's recent elections that have come with so much anger oozing out of unhealed scars, loss of life and malignant hate.
These words so perfectly reflect the storm brewing over a young nation struggling to hold itself together, but daily surrendering to the savage seduction of propaganda, the spread of malice, the rejection of what is true, and using God to stamp every prejudice and loath for fellow humans.
[Brackets mine]: I commit-
"I commit myself to telling the truth, as much as I have the light to see the truth. This is the age of lies, and it is getting worse. We are reaping what we have sewn: debased journalism; an internet where any assertion passes as fact; a disdain for education; the mockery of independent thinking, a pandering to anti-intellectualism; the ossifying of political opinions and letting them pass for "truth;" an embrace of racism [ethnic bigotry], xenophobia [othernizing], patriarchal privilege [political privilege], and brute force as a means of addressing conflict.
"There is no issue in the entire thesaurus of human activity that is not at some level a spiritual issue. That is to say that behind all our problems, including the suppression of truth, is a refusal to accept our own complicity in living falsehoods, and our reluctance to become conscious of our connection with everything--every single thing--in the universe. Instead, we imagine ourselves to be superior to other species, to be the gods of creation, the "stewards" of nature with which we can do whatever we please. Within our own species we view ourselves as locked in a contest to see who can amass the most power to manage and manipulate others.
"I commit myself especially to challenge religious falsehood where I see it. That opens me up to the criticism of being arrogant, self-righteous, judgmental, and guilty of the same ills which I would point out in others. I know that. I accept that. And if I should prey upon a brother for the speck he has in his eye while ignoring the log I have in my own, I should and must be called out. I submit myself to that criticism. Moreover I commit myself to an honest self-examination and an openness to accept my limitations and my errors to the extent I am able to do so. I pledge myself to be and remain in communities where I can be held in mutual accountability for facing and telling my own truth."
- Words by Rev. Frank Gasque Dunn | Dec 2016. With gratitude.

"Storm Over Biafra", a painting by Ben Enwonwu. A reminder of the storm of secession brewing over Kenya

Holy Hate

From the corner of my memory’s eye I catch this movie in which a community decides to collectively hate on this Jewish guy who always wears a hat. The kids are fed a belief that the guy has horns under his hat…. what’s the name of that movie… so a generation of youngsters is growing up hating a Jew (and therefore all other Jews they’ll ever know) because they believe he has horns growing out of his skull as a sign of his inherently evil nature. He’s the boogieman they dare not come near… darn it, what’s the name of that movie… There's a funny scene where two of the kids who know the truth decide to lure other kids to the Jewish guy's home so they can see his horns when he takes off his hat. The knowing kids laugh themselves silly when the other gullible kids take off in terror upon seeing the man with the horns approaching... what the devil's horn's the name of-- forget it.

For now, "the man with the horns" is the real-life movie playing out in the Kenyan diaspora among a group that believes the man from the shores of Nam Lolwe is indeed Mephistophelian in nature. He’s Kenya’s guy with the hat that hides something diabolical, and he is to be greatly feared by the godly and spiritually favored group that has decided there's only one man annointed to lead the country. You have to attend a prayer rally like the one I attended last night (and stay to the end) to know what I’m talking about. The prayer meeting, dubbed "UhuRuto Tano Tena Diaspora Peace Rally" was at the beginning filled with fun, educational talk, good food, dancing and good-natured community love. I ate a lot of maandazi and chicken and chai and was happy to see friends.

Then came the sermon and prayers at the end, by which time half the people and the media had left. Too bad they missed such an important segment. But I'll tell you about it. The most terrifying thing was to watch a congregation that collectively believed in the demonic nature of this man, Raila, so strongly that they feverishly, on bended knees and prostrate spines, cried out to God to deliver Kenya from this man’s diabolic dealings in witchcraft which is affecting his followers and the entire country. I do not come to judge your faith or to question the veracity of such bizarre claims - heck, I don't know if the man is hiding a chicken claw that can run all by itself under his hat - but as a human being who refuses to stay silent in the face of crimes against humanity, I will point to the chilling markings of a dangerous collective mindset clothed in holiness and humility.

It is the kind of mindset that will silently watch the extermination of an entire community in the belief that the God of their faith is ridding the land of a great evil. It is the kind of mindset that will see the police bludgeoning to death of babies like Samantha Pendo, and the ruthless murder of people like Chris Msando and Carol Ngumbu, and the obvious targeting of a specific community, as part of a holy war. Somewhere in this madness that has affected diaspora Kenyans, there’s a light, and I know that light well because I have bathed often in its unpretentious generosity. At a time like this, we must dare invade each other’s exclusive spaces even when we're not welcome, talk to each other long enough, heart to heart, across the divide, however difficult the conversations, and only then will we begin to find each other’s shared humanity.

The Mad Man and the Wicked Ruler

It's fascinating how smart and passionate the ordinary Kenyan can get when it comes to debating the Constitution and election laws, yet surrenders the same smarts and passion when it comes to the things that oppress them the most. I'm talking about the hoi-polloi ordinary Kenyan, not the intellectual pundit who eats three meals a day.
Poverty is the foremost biting injustice suffered by thousands of same ordinary Kenyans, many rising and retiring daily in unspeakable squalor, thousands with that constant fear of where to get the next meal or how to pay rent or what if that sick child won't survive the night or what will happen if people find out that my church-going wife is the same night-time sex worker at Aden Joint who feeds our family through prostitution. And a lot of same said ordinary Kenyans in squalor are graduates too.
This level of poverty is a crime is a crime is a crime. There's a class of people in charge of the instruments of political and economic power who have cultivated it, enabled it for their own benefit, and they know it. There's a greed virus in their minds that tells them there isn't enough for everyone, and a stupidity virus that makes them sit contentedly on the fat fruit-filled branch of the tree while the people at the bottom angrily saw off the trunk of the same tree so they can get to the fruit.
The greed and stupidity viruses make this class of rulers do bizarre things like steal billions from public coffers, meanwhile the people with the mtu-wetu virus still vote them back in. This class of rulers signs bad contracts through corporate gluttony and the people celebrate them for bringing development which they could never afford to enjoy. This class of rulers swats off smart thinkers who are trying to empower ordinary folk because these thinkers are like flies buzzing around their meat.
Deep inside you know there's something very wrong with the whole setup. So what do you do? You decide you're too powerless to do anything about it and you choose to claim spiritual superiority. You dish out bible verses everyday just to convince yourself that your situation is somehow willed by God herself and She will reward you with a mansion in heaven. Your shallow self-serving preacherman tells you not to question those God has put in power, however oppressive they are. You conveniently choose to believe this manipulative lie because it supports your pathetic prejudices.
Allow yourself to be smart for your own good for once; not for someone else's gain. If you're languishing in poverty, having worked hard to no avail, sent hundreds of resumes as a graduate and never found a job, lost everything you had, fell off the cliff of experimental capitalism and split your head because there was no welfare cushioning to catch you, wake up to the realization that you're both the victim and willing participant in the ongoing game of profits at any cost that results in the kind of sick society you live in.
If you're religious like most Kenyans, for show or for real, then start looking for those bible verses that talk about truth and justice and ridding the land of wicked leadership. You don't need to worship those in power when they are not giving you the opportunity to thrive; heck you don't need to worship them at all. Stop preaching Levitical verses about not uncovering your inebriate father's nakedness when said father sits on immoral wealth while thousands languish in abject poverty.
Instead, embrace those who open your eyes. Practice the religion that empowers you. Say aloud, "Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!" / "When the righteous thrive, the people rejoice; when the wicked rule, the people groan". These are inconveniencing biblical truths that prick the comforts of your anemic tribal nationalism, but they are medicine.
You say- but the groans of the people are being caused by that mad man who wants power at any cost! You're getting mixed up over who the wicked ruler is "when the wicked rule, the people groan". The ruler is the person who has control of state machinery - military, legislative and economic instruments of power. The "mad man" who is zealously followed by many only has people power, which comes with the opportunity to shape history, but this person is not the ruler; he/she can be crucified in a minute.

"Lovely Greed 1st Timothy 6:10", a painting by Leighton Autrey