Blah, blah, blah, but no peace

Njoki Karuoya

Two weeks ago, I went to Jamhuri Park to join the marking of World Food Day. As I walked out of the Ministry of Agriculture stand where best-practice demonstrations were being held, I bumped into an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in years.

She invited me to her place and just as I was about to offer an apology and raincheck the invite, she told me she lived nearby. That raised my curiosity and we walked a short distance to her little home, a small two-room house.

I had barely sat down when an Administration Police officer knocked on her door. The conversation was brief, but I gathered she was being reminded to move from her house as her ‘residence’ was illegal. That is when Njeri narrated her story.

Post-Election Violence

Prior to the post-election violence, Njeri used to live in Kibera with her husband and two children. She ran a shop which, when combined with her husband’s meagre salary, supported her family.

Despite being an informal settlement, Kibera has a strong social network where neighbours know each other and generally tend to help each other when the need arises. Njeri was often called upon to help her neighbours, and she did, and vice versa.

That was until January 2008. And in the blink of an eye, she and her family were homeless and penniless. Although some of her neighbours turned against her because of her tribe and suspected affiliation, they nonetheless gave her family 24 hours notice to vacate their home.

Unable to secure a van that could penetrate the rocks and smouldering tyres strewn all over the roads and tracks, she hired a mkokoteni, packed her belongings and moved to the showground. There, she joined hundreds of other families whose fate was similar, if not worse, to hers.

Despite hoping the crisis would end soon and they could resettle back in their hood, the misery dragged on for weeks. Because of living in tents that leaked amidst other deplorable conditions, Njeri’s children got sick.

In two months, the little savings she had began to run out. Her husband, who was forced to walk more than 20km one way each day to get to his workplace in Industrial Area, also began to fall sick. The long daily trek took a heavy toll on his physical strength and health. Add the fact that there were days he could not go to work when the crisis and violent demonstrations rose to frightening crescendo. Not surprisingly, he lost his job.

The next three months were dark for Njeri and her family. Their situation got worse when one of the children was diagnosed with pneumonia and admitted to Kenyatta National Hospital. Njeri was forced to move to the hospital and camp there for about five days until her son’s discharge.

Just talk

Her husband, meanwhile, stayed on at the camp to ensure their spot, tent and belongings were not ‘taken’ by other desperate ‘refugees’. At one point, when there was semblance of calm, he went back to his Kibera house but he found a new tenant inside. A group of youths also warned him against coming back. He lost hope there and then as harsh reality hit him — the home he had known for more than ten years was no more. He had to find another. All that talk by politicians and other leaders to rudi nyumbani was just that... talk.

To cut the long story short, Njeri and her husband decided to settle at the showground. They found a temporary structure and moved in. And that is where they have been living for the past three years. Now they have to move out and find another ‘home’.

Last week, UNFPA released the State of World Population report whose theme this year is From conflict and crisis to renewal: Generations of change. The report details how conflicts and humanitarian emergencies affect families, and nations are encouraged to always explore peace for nation building.

Kenya has had its fair share of concentrated conflicts. Thousands of Kenyans have been displaced and dispossessed. For many, the fruits of years of labour have been reduced to nothing, and many have restarted their lives once, even twice in the course of their lifetime.

These people hardly make it to the news, hence they are hidden from us and their plight made insignificant to the eyes of many. Yet they, too, deserve the same rights and privileges we enjoy.

We must, as a nation, insist on maintaining peace in all pockets of this country, irrespective of how remote a community is. The new Constitution has nudged us towards this, but it cannot act in isolation. It has to be implemented by us. Let us always fight for peace and resettle all those still living as ‘refugees’ in their own country.