Man Willy resorts to wizardry in robust proposal to speed up wheels of justice

By Peter Kimani

Kenya: Man Willy, the Chief Justice of the Republic of Kenya, was spot on with his recent recommendation that Kenyans should refer some of their disputes to witch doctors instead of resorting to the upumbavu (stupidity) – his word, not mine – of submitting every dispute to the courts.

I think it is sheer upumbavu – my word, not his – to dismiss Man Willy’s recommendation without proper analysis of its merit.

If I remember right, one former Member of Parliament from Western Kenya lost his seat because it was proved he had stripped naked and been smeared with cow or goat entrails, and his followers sworn to vote for him.

Of course you wouldn’t believe that when you met the man in person; sweet cologne burning the nostrils, hair dripping black with dye.

Then there was the Ukambani MP who drowned after his car was swept away by raging floods. Apparently, he kept driving at the urging of a witch doctor who had accompanied him and whose weather predictions confirmed it was only a passing cloud.

Needless to say, the witch doctor also died in the freak accident, his paraphernalia the only tell-tale sign of his presence in the car.

In business, the numbers that indulge in the occult are legion, simply because they believe someone or other is envious of their prosperity, and so are keen to use any means necessary to protect it.

And I must have written about a neighbour who slammed the door shut if the first person she met in the morning was a fellow woman, apparently because where she came from, it was considered a bad omen. But she flashed a big grin if she met me at the door (which was rare, as I have never been an early riser).

These anecdotes, none of them invented, reaffirm that superstitions govern Kenyans’ lives. It is not necessarily a bad thing; we only need to transcend the colonial hang-up that cast anything indigenous as “black magic.”

Records indicate there are 600,000 cases before our courts, and some relate to members of the same family who cannot agree on basic things such as how an estate is to be shared out on the death of a loved one.

I remember reading one such case that has been pending for 40 years, which means some have lived through grinding poverty, unable to access what should be their entitlement.

Such a matter could have been resolved by a witch doctor within hours. He would probably use pebbles hurled from a gourd to indicate which property goes to whom, or a fly whisk to indicate the direction of the wind to assess how disposable assets are to be distributed.

And for his troubles, all a witch doctor would need, most probably, would be a chicken or a goat without a blemish to ensure he has a full stomach as he goes about his work.

But even when consensus is lacking, one party only needs to hear that the other has gone to see the witch doctor and be psychologically disarmed into playing along, if only out of  fear.

After all, parents who imposed curses on errant children in traditional society exploited similar fears.

Alternately, the rituals imposed to exorcise such curses allowed recuperation of psychological unease, while restoring parental authority.

Put another way, Man Willy’s witch doctor prescription is something that should be embraced wholeheartedly. And since politicians are in the mood to revise the Constitution, it might not be too late to include the idea of enshrining wizardry as a legitimate science.