It’s time for Cotu to champion for the dignity of workers’ labour

By Barrack Muluka

The last stanza of Kenya’s national anthem makes a lyrical plea for the glory of the nation and the dignity of her labour. The psalm that is our anthem prays that the glory of Kenya and the fruit of our labour should fill our hearts with gratitude. Labour is inherently dignifying. The dignity, however, reposes in the reward.

Where labour does not dignify, it abuses. This is regardless that you are a white-collar worker in ornate environments, or that you are a sanitary worker in challenging public spaces. Ultimately only one question matters, what is the fruit of your labour? Can it fill your heart with thanksgiving?  When you look at the outcome of your engagement with the task, are you able to say, “It was worth it”?

In the first century AD, Paul of Tarsus was churning out sundry letters to the Early Church in various parts of Greece. He instructed them in the ways of a dignified Christian life. In fact Paul may very well be said to have instructed about dignity, regardless of religion. For, Paul addressed just about everything that informs decorum in all walks of life – from farming, eating, and drinking to sex and family life, all the way to deportment before political authorities. He wrote about love, loneliness and aloneness, death, courage, wealth, sacrifice – everything.

On the dignity of labour the tentmaker from Tarsus said, “Keep away from every believer who is idle and disruptive  . . . You know how to follow our example. We were not idle when we were there with you. Nor did we eat anybody’s food without paying him. We worked night and day, labouring and toiling so that we would not be a burden to anybody  ... We gave you this rule, ‘The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.’ ... We hear that some among you are idle and disruptive, they are not busy, they are busybodies . . . We command that they should work and earn the food that they eat  . . . Do not associate with them in order that they may feel ashamed.” [2 Thessalonians 3: 6 – 14]

But these things were there way before Paul of Tarsus. For, is the dignity of labour not documented in the Old Testament’s Books of History? I have seen where it is written in 2 Chronicles 15: 7, “Be ye strong therefore, and let not your hand be weak: for your work shall be rewarded.” And of course the Testament itself starts with work, as laid out in the narrative of the beginning. We even see God being happy with the dignity of his work: “And God saw it was good.”  He takes a deserved rest on the seventh day.

Is there something divine, therefore, in labour and labouring? Labour is not only dignified, it is also sacrosanct. Its fruit is to be gloriously celebrated as envisaged in Kenya’s national psalm. Busybodies, for their part, should not only go hungry, they should also be shunned. They must be made to feel ashamed.

In this season of celebrating the labour of our hands, it seems appropriate to ask whether the fruit of our labour glorifies our country Kenya. Does the outcome of our work fill every heart with thanksgiving? Do idlers and sundry busybodies go hungry? Do they feel ashamed that they idle about?

The dignity of the fruit of our labour cannot reside in the tokenism of annual pay increases. Those of us privileged to have been around long enough now know that these tokens, made on most Labour Day parades, have never changed the lives of the working community in Kenya. That is why it must disappoint that nobody seems to address real issues on Labour Day.

It is not about the formation of alternative labour unions, nor is it about victimisation of workers from certain tribes, or some chain of supermarkets not registering their employees with the unions. To the contrary it is about the totality of dignified labouring.

The dignity of labour is about the entirety of the worker’s life. It is as much about the environment in which s/he works as about the house in which s/he lives. How does s/he get to work? What is the state of the transport system and network? Does it leave the worker feeling dignified or as some ‘non-person’? What kind of school does the worker’s child go to, if s/he goes to school at all? Can the worker and his or her family go to a dignifying medical environment for the essential attention? Do they feel safe at work and at home, alike? At work, what is the premium in the health and safety environment? What is the welfare and recreational environment like? What is the premium of the job security?

This Labour Day, Central Organisation of Trade Union (Cotu) Secretary General, Francis Atwoli almost addressed the casualisation of labour. However, he was too casual with this himself. It is a matter that cries to be addressed in a nation that no longer seems to respect the dignity of labour. Cotu may want to take up the theme of the dignity of labour and begin travelling with it.

Where there is dignity in labour, workers’ taxes are put to the right use. I was surprised to hear Mr Atwoli attempt to distance trade unions from politics. The world over, trade unionism and politics go hand in glove. We want to know what our taxes are doing. The tax is the worker’s money in trust with the political authorities. If they abuse these monies, who is best placed to agitate than the trade unionist? We pay taxes so that the Government will pave our way to dignified living.

If we live in thug and flee-infested slums that have no amenities, the trade unions must ask why. If we use polythene paper flying toilets and drive on potholed roads, trade unions must take on the State. If service and facilities in public hospitals are pathetic, the labour movement must demand an explanation.

When the State wants to pay billions of shillings to international ghost suppliers, the unions must be at the forefront of saying no. Ghost projects like Anglo Leasing dignify the idling busybodies while concurrently dehumanising the working taxpayer. They reward the idler with super abundant luxury while the worker goes hungry. Atwoli should stop telling politicians not to push Cotu into politics. When they keep quiet amidst misrule, unions do the politics of acquiescence. Tom Mboya, Clement Lubembe, Ochola Makanyengo, Juma Boy, Jolly Joe Mugalla, Francis Muhanji, Lech Wa?esa, Fred T. Chiluba, were all trade unionists and politicians.

The defining factor was the kind of politics they played. Were they for the worker or against him? So, again, does the labour movement and performance of the State (read “the glory of Kenya and the fruit of our labour)” fill every heart with thanksgiving?

The writer is a publishing editor, special consultant and advisor on public relations and media relations