Woe unto those who embrace unending circles of abortive reforms, tribalism

Kenya’s reform story is the tale of Sisyphus, all over. Police violently disrupt what is otherwise a peaceful rally, yet you had thought the age of State sponsored violence was gone. They hopelessly clobber a young man kneeling before them. Never mind that his arms are raised in the air, as a sign of surrender. Tear gas canisters fly freely, disturbing the rhyme and rhythm of the village. Heated arguments flow about who is right and who is wrong and "orders from above." Then there are tales of kidnapping and adduction. Threats by political gangsters and political zoning off of the country. In the words of Albert Camus, "the struggle itself is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." My regular reader will be familiar with with The Myth of Sisyphus, a philosophical treatise by Albert Camus. An uncanny parallelism exists between my own labours and those of Sisyphus. However, I take solace in the knowledge that I am not alone. The Kenyan nation is caught up in a collective Sisyphean maze. When I finish writing about Sisyphus, I know that I must write about him again and again, without any significant gains. But I write on. Sisyphus, you will recall, has been condemned to repeat forever the same task, pushing a heavy rock up a mountain. The gods rudely shove it down each time he gets at the top. Albert Camus has wondered what must go on in Sisyphus’ mind as he walks down the mountain for the next effort. Does he imagine that he is embarked on the final effort? Surely, he must know that nothing will change? If he does, and yet he must still undertake the task then, "one must imagine him happy."At any rate, one must imagine the Sisyphus that is the Kenyan nation happy with the apparent unremitting futility of pushing the rock of reform up the mountain for five decades. Could it be because the nation has failed to define for itself some guiding eternal truths and values? Camus was concerned about coming to terms with a world that did not have eternal truths and values. Must one commit suicide before he can realise the absurdity of the struggles of our lives, uninformed as they are by eternal truths and values? When you look around you, you witness the self same forces that have enriched our lives with pain and suffering at work. Yet, don’t we seem to not only embrace but also celebrate these forces, even when we know where we must ultimately end up? The brutality in Limuru this week was not anything new. This has been the order of the Kenyan nation for five decades. The gap of respite that we have had in recent years parallels Sisyphus’ journey down the mountain, when he goes to fetch the rock. What goes on in his mind at this time? Maybe nothing. He learns nothing and thinks nothing. That is why he must struggle with the rock again, almost as if he has embarked on this task for the first time. The aborted Limuru meeting, we are told, was supposed to protest against resurgence of negative ethnicity and the Gospel of Fear as a platform for political mobilisation. To talk about negative ethnicity in Kenya today is perceived as an assault against some very specific politicians. You only need to say the words "negative ethnicity" and you will find yourself under verbal assault. Like Sisyphus, we must have forgotten about the insidious gift from the fires of negative ethnicity. If we haven’t, then we must be presumed to be happy about this gift. We can therefore contend with unending cycles of abortive reform. I have listened these past few days to a number of radio stations that broadcast in my mother tongue. Our people are upbeat. They are chest thumping in exuberant Luhya nationalism. It should not surprise me that after the next General Election, a radio journalist from the Land of the People of Peace could find himself staring Fatou Bensouda of the ICC in the eye, at The Hague. Of course, the People from the Land of Peace can console themselves with the knowledge that they are not alone in spewing ethnic animus through the airwaves. Privileged polyglot that I am, I am horrified each time I listen to political talk shows on a cross section of our vernacular FM radio stations. As you listen to these stations, you can only agree with Camus. Sisyphus is happy.Meanwhile, I have received, these past few days, hundreds of heart-rending messages following the tragic end of Mzee Ben Muhia Njoroge, whom we buried in the cold hills of Subukia. We violently ejected him from the brilliant sunshine of the equator in Emanyulia, where he was always one of us. Emanyulia was in Subukia in its hundreds, crying for Muhia and for the loss of innocence at the altar of Luhya nationalism. But even as we buried Ben Muhia, at least two Emanyulians at the funeral asked me whether I did not think, "Our time to rule this country has come?" Would we unite this time?Unity? Unity is a good thing. But my grandfather Samuel taught me that unity is only as good as the purpose for which people unite. If we unite to commit murder, then this unity is conspiracy. If the captains of Gema and Kamatusa are perceived to offend Kenyan nationhood, why would conspiratorial Luhya unity be any better? If Kikuyu and Kalenjin jingoism is bad, then Luhya, Luo and Akamba jingoism is equally bad. If it is not, then Sisyphus should just shut up and carry on with his labours. Our people say that you do not teach the snake’s baby how to bite. It comes naturally. The reversal of democratic gains enjoys its greatest momentum in ethnic cocoons. The struggle against bad leadership becomes meaningless in a world devoid of eternal truths and values. Sisyphus is indeed happy in his ignorance. The writer is a publishing editor and National Director of Communications at Raila for President Secretariat

Woe unto those who embrace unending circles of abortive reforms, tribalism

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