Kenya turns 50: Looking back and beyond

A week after Nelson Mandela died, Kenya marked 50 years of independence from British colonial rule. This anniversary, on December 12, amid South Africa’s mourning period for Madiba, received little attention in the world media.

For President Uhuru Kenyatta, whose mission is to turn Kenya into a middle-income economy, the golden jubilee festivities offered much-needed diversion from the International Criminal Court (ICC) which has charged him for having a hand in post-election violence that left 1 200 dead and 600 000 homeless back in 2007. The ICC trial is a millstone no (sitting) president wants around their neck.

Between executing his duties as Deputy President, William Ruto – Kenyatta’s co-accused for the 2007 clashes – has spent the recent while, and a fortune, shuttling between Nairobi and The Hague, where his trial began in September. Whatever the result, it’s a lamentable distinction that Kenya’s top brass – already made up of strange bedfellows – is being tried by the ICC. With the exception of a euphoria-filled but troubled first decade of independence, and, less so, from 2003, Kenya’s past is sorry to put it mildly. Given where things are, will Kenyans look back on the 50^th anniversary festivities with a sense of pride in years to come?

President Uhuru Kenyatta reviews the guard of honour during celebrations marking Kenya’s 50th year of independence. (Pic: AFP)

Sandwiched between Jakaya Kikwete-led politically stable Tanzania, Ethiopia and Somalia, a failed state notorious for piracy, Kenya is home to about 43-million people. For context, Nigeria’s population is four times larger while South Africa’s population is 50-million. Kenya’s US$71bn in GDP makes it Africa’s tenth-largest economy, according to the World Bank. On a per capita basis it’s pitifully low – a fraction of Botswana’s, Tunisian or that of Mauritius, Africa’s bellwether.

High levels of poverty and kleptocracy have spurred Kenyatta’s talent-packed administration to force a turnaround to achieve 10% in annual economic growth. But graft could dampen that, University of Nairobi academic Dr Brigitte Okonga-Wabuyabo explained in a telephonic interview. Indeed, corruption affects many other facets. In an article titled “The rot that is killing Kenya“, journalist Bertha Kang’ong’oi bemoaned its pervasive nature and linked the Westgate incident to “endemically corrupt” police and state officials. It’s no small wonder then that Kenya fares shabbily on the Mo Ibrahim Governance Index as well as the Global Competitiveness Index.

On the upside, Kenya, replete with ICT initiatives such as Konza Techno City, East Africa’s Silicon Valley, is a top performing market with a “burgeoning middle class”. Still, Kenya is a curious mix for South African companies. Some of them, like Avusa and Nando’s, flopped and retreated while others boom.

Lured by a mix of rising incomes that have boosted levels of alcohol consumption, SABMiller is back after retreating last decade. On a per capita basis, according to SABMiller, Kenyans consume 46 litres of beer. While that’s half the Polish average, it’s pretty high by East African standards, where consumption hovers around 10 litres per capita.

On why some locals fail to impress, Okonga-Wabuwayo argues that some companies don’t understand the Kenyan consumer profile and “feel that whatever works in South Africa can be replicated here”. Further, she says, Kenya is an expensive place to do business in.

Despite such hurdles, Southern Africa is well-represented, with Strive Masiyiwa-led Econet, Botswana’s lender Letshego and JSE-listed outfits like Woolworths. Dozens of Chinese firms, including Huawei, also play here.

Back to the ICC. Okonga-Wabuyabo prefers the matter to be dealt with speedily “for the sake of certainty and sanity”. In contrast, it seems Kenyatta, with the African Union egging him on, would rather not go to court. In his favour, it’s emerged that some witnesses, who were bribed, have turned out to have lied against some of the co-accused. After many delays, it seems Kenyatta will have his date in court in February. Don’t bank on it. Across the border, Sudan’s President Omar al-Bashir is also wanted by the ICC for genocide in Darfur.

Kenya’s leaders
For all its troubles, Kenya, led to independence in 1963 by Kenyatta’s father, Jomo (also known as Mzee, an honorific), has made strides. These are notable especially since, to paraphrase Moeletsi Mbeki in Architects of Poverty, by 1970-1990 Kenya had fallen to unprecedented lows. Because Mzee, the father of the nation, neglected the poor he endured two coup bids. Diagnosing the malady, Oginga Odinga (who was subsequently fired from his job as Mzee’s deputy and then jailed), cited land grabs from the poor and neo-liberalism, which he felt worsened poverty.

On the economic front, Mzee fared excellently. GDP rose on average by a high 6% per year and Kenya outdid Indonesia and Malaysia right until 1980. Behind the stats is a sad picture. “[The] figures disguised a widening disparity – the rich got richer and poverty levels increased,” Martin Meredith observers in The State of Africa.

The narrative got worse under Mzee’s successor, Daniel Arap Moi, another coup d’état survivor. His 24-year reign – a spaghetti junction of violence, terror, repression and graft – cost Kenya dearly on all fronts. Criticising kleptocracy or advocating political reforms was akin to treason. “Arrest, detention and other forms of harassment – for journalists, academics, trade unionists, and even members of parliament – were the most likely,” Meredith writes.

Some of those who spoke out including Bishop Alexander Muge and other clerics were assassinated. Foreign Minister Robert Ouko was found dead after compiling a report into “high-level corruption”. Eight hundred protesters were killed on the eve of the 30^th anniversary of independence. Hundreds of thousands more were displaced while others, like Shadrack Gutto, fled into exile. Moneywise, runaway inflation hit 100% and the economy degenerated.

So, when Mwai Kibaki, whose clean government campaign enabled his coalition to dethrone Moi, took over in 2003 the country was freefalling. Within a year, sadly, members of Kibaki’s top brass were thieving. Michela Wrong, citing human rights and anti-corruption activist John Githongo, put it aptly in It’s Our Turn to Eat. Nevertheless, Kibaki is best remembered for extricating Kenya from the doldrums and setting it on an upward trajectory.

What will Kenyatta’s legacy be?
Back to the future. With the festivities that marked the 50^th anniversary behind us, the question for Kenyatta is what his legacy will be. It’s not the pomp or speeches that matter to Kenyans in slums like the capital’s Kibera or Mombasa’s Bangladesh but when and how they’ll live the Odinga dream: get land and jobs that will enable them to escape poverty, and have access to quality education and clean water. Will the incumbent (or his successors), like Kibaki, fail the corruption test? Kenyans are watching.

Kenyatta better take lessons from Brazil’s Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva – whose successful efforts to grow the economy and reduce poverty makes him a case study – especially since Kenya is still trapped in the vicissitudes of the past. Life expectancy is in the 50s (markedly lower than 80 in the UK or even Cuba, a peer low income nation, but in line with Botswana and South Africa). Before gazing into the future or speculating on how all of this can ail the Vision 2030 development blueprint, no one is saying what’s to be done with the republic of slums – the type synonymous with Rio de Janeiro’s favelas.

Instead of simply patting itself for dominating East Africa, a small pond, Kenya should measure against giants like Malaysia. Apart from making it to the middle-income league, its success should reflect in improved literacy and reduced infant mortality rates, for two. Kenyatta is a youthful politician with a business background. Members on the fourth president’s team are highly trained and have talent aplenty. All of these factors should count for something.

“Vision 2030 is about ensuring that the country becomes a developed one, it’s also about uplifting the poor. Right now, most Kenyans live on less than $1 a day,” says Okonga-Wabuyabo. While South Africa also fares poorly on this score, Mauritius has slashed the number of people in that category to just 1%.

The Kenyan academic believes Vision 2030 can work, but stresses the need for players to pull together. “For now we’re still battling with corruption – it’s a serious threat that could take us back or stall progress.”

Kenyans have been singing Not Yet Uhuru since the Odinga days. It’s time for a new tune and the founding president’s son, whose Kiswahili first name means freedom, hasn’t only the power to do it. If he fails, well. Will the nation look back to 2013, which marks the second half a century of independence, with a sense of pride?

Shoks Mnisi Mzolo is a South African print and broadcast media practitioner who covers a range of topics including business and the economy, healthcare, telecommunications, and politics.

10 years ago

Young Africans meet to tackle unemployment ‘time bomb’

Hundreds of young Africans began a five-day conference in the Senegalese capital Dakar on Monday focusing on the “time bomb” of youth unemployment across the continent.

Africa is one of the world’s youngest and fastest-growing regions but growing joblessness has become a major threat to prosperity, according to the African Development Bank (AfDB).

Alioune Gueye, head of the Network of Youth Leaders of Africa and the Diaspora, which organised the event, said “nothing is more tragic” than seeing parents educate their children only to watch them fail to find jobs.

“This is a time bomb that must be defused,” Gueye said as he opened the fourth Pan-African Youth Leadership Summit, co-organised by the United Nations, which this year will tackle youth unemployment.

Prime Minister of Senegal Aminata Toure (3rd L) at the summit. (Pic: AFP)

The UN estimates that 20% of Africans – around 200 million people – are aged 15 to 24, with the youth population expected to double by 2045.

Africa’s economy is projected to grow by 5.3% in 2014, according to the 2013 African Economic Outlook, an annual report produced by the AfDB, the UN Development Programme and other groups.

But growth is not translating into jobs for the young people who make up 60% of the unemployed or underemployed in Africa, the report says.

Recent estimates by the AfDB based on household surveys across sub-Saharan Africa and data from the International Labour Organisation find that youth unemployment stands around 34%.

“Unemployed young people are a threat to the stability of our countries,” Gueye said.

He told AFP after his address that “when a young person isn’t working, he has to rely on his family. He wants to start a family but cannot do so. He becomes embittered and can fall into organised crime or terrorism.”

Senegalese Prime Minister Aminata Toure told the conference the global financial crisis had led to numerous problems related to youth unemployment.

“The time has come to tackle this breakdown, to make young people the future of the continent. That must be the top priority,” she said.

The conference will make policy recommendations on tackling youth unemployment which will be circulated to the African Union and United Nations. – Sapa-AFP

10 years ago

How 3D printing is changing lives in South Sudan

In 2010, Mick Ebeling, founder of a company called Not Impossible, spearheaded the creation of the Eyewriter, eye-tracking glasses using open-source software, to allow paralysed people to draw and communicate using only their eyes.

Then, in November last year, Not Impossible printed a prosthetic hand that allowed a teenager to feed himself for the first time in two years. But that was just the beginning.

[Last week], Ebeling stunned audiences at the International Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in Las Vegas with the story of Project Daniel.

Late last year, he set up the world’s first 3D-printing prosthetic lab and training facility in Sudan’s Nuba Mountains. The first “patient” was a boy called Daniel, who had had both his arms blown off at the age of 14.

Mick and Daniel. (Pic supplied)

The boy, now 16, was living in a 70 000-person refugee camp in Yida, South Sudan. On November 11, he received the first version of a prosthetic left arm. It was named after the boy himself: the Daniel Hand. And it enabled him to feed himself for the first time in two years. According to Ebeling, he also ate chocolate for the first time.

With the assistance of an American doctor, Tom Catena, the team then set about teaching others to print and assemble 3D prostheses. By the time the Americans returned home, local trainees had printed and fitted another two arms, underlining the project’s lasting benefit beyond the presence of the Not Impossible team.

A local team creating prosthetic arms with the help of 3D printing. (Pic supplied)

Equally astonishingly, Project Daniel successfully unfolded in a region where fighting was escalating, and where the people taught to use the 3D printers had barely any knowledge of computers.

“We’re hopeful that other children and adults in other regions of Africa, as well as other continents, will utilise the power of this new technology for similar beginnings,” says Ebeling. “We believe Daniel’s story will ignite a global campaign. The sharing of the prostheses’ specifications, which Not Impossible will provide free and open source, will enable any person in need, anywhere on the planet, to use technology for its best purpose: restoring humanity.”

Robohand
The Daniel Hand was originally designed at the Not Impossible headquarters in Venice, California (United States), using crowdsourcing to pull in “a dream team of innovators”. Prominent among them was the South African inventor of the Robohand, Richard Van As, a master carpenter from Johannesburg.

The team also included an Australian neuroscientist and a 3D printing company owner. The project was supported by precision engineering company Precipart and by chipmaker Intel, which included Ebeling in its own events at CES this week.

“We are on the precipice of a can-do maker community that is reaching critical mass,” says Elliot V Kotek, Not Impossible’s content chief and co-founder. “There is no shortage of knowledge, and we are linking the brightest technical minds and creative problem-solvers around the globe. Project Daniel is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.”

While Project Daniel focuses on medical benefits of 3D printing, the project proves that the ultimate benefit the technology can bring is limited only by the human imagination. – Gadget.co.za

Arthur Goldstuck is the editor-in-chief of Gadget. Connect with him on Twitter.

10 years ago

Nigeria offers promise for investors looking for the next growth story

If you want an idea of what Nigeria can offer the world’s more fearless investors, raise a glass to South African supermarket chain Shoprite. Last year, its seven Nigerian branches sold more Moët & Chandon champagne than its 600 South African stores combined.

Nigeria may be best known for Islamist militants, bomb attacks, advance fee fraud and large-scale oil theft, but with a population of 170-million and a decade of annual growth rates around 7%, it also offers some outsized returns for investors willing to take the risk.

Just ask FTSE-listed Afren, whose share price shot up 9% in November when it discovered a “giant” oilfield in Nigeria, which is already the continent’s biggest energy producer.

But it is not just the traditional, grubby business of oil extraction that stands to make a mint. A youthful population is showing glimmers of a consumer boom: outside Ireland, Nigeria is the biggest market for Guinness, while brands from Porsche to men’s luxury clothes brand Ermenegildo Zegna have scrambled to open shops recently.

Champagne bottles displayed at a roadside shop in Lagos. (Pic: AFP)

“It’s caught on with investors. They recognise that there’s a resemblance to what we saw in Asia [in the 1980s] and those who missed the incredible growth story [there] now have the opportunity to invest in the next growth story,” said Charles Robertson, global chief economist at Renaissance Capital.

The group forecasts that Nigeria’s GDP will hit $5tn (£3tn) by 2050, which would be on a par with Japan today as the world’s third-biggest economy. A statistical rebasing exercise next month – in which the base year for calculating GDP will be changed from 1990 to 2008 – could lead Nigeria to rival South Africa for the spot of the continent’s largest economy, with a value of close to $400bn. That would mean the economic output of Lagos, the vibrant commercial hub, alone overtaking Ghana.

Despite a decade of breakneck growth, two-thirds of Nigerians still endure crushing poverty.

After decades of false starts, Nigeria is slowly addressing its feeble electricity generation. It still produces only enough to power one vacuum cleaner for every 25 inhabitants.

“Nigeria cannot be ignored any more as an investment destination, but I’m not convinced [the Mint group – four countries identified as emerging economic giants, the other members being Mexico, Indonesia and Turkey – is] where it fits in,” said Samir Gadio, an emerging markets strategist at Standard Bank.

“If you take a closer look, Nigeria is the least developed, trails in terms of manufacturing base and displays limited economic diversification.”

Gadio said that the government relies on oil for up to 80% of its income. Shocking education levels – especially in the north, where one report found only a fraction of 16-year-olds could add up two numbers – have provided a way in for the Boko Haram Islamists. The attacks have sometimes shut down swaths of the north, prevented truck drivers from delivering goods there and prompted traders to flee south.

Along the southern shores, too, where 2m barrels of oil are pumped each day, militancy has increased amid anger as decades of oil wealth have failed to trickle down to people living in the heart of the oil industry in the Niger Delta.

Corruption and lack of transparency pushed Nigeria down nine places to 147 out of 189 countries on the World Bank’s Ease of Doing Business index this year. Business people say local oligarchs have such a stranglehold on most sectors of the economy that it is impossible to operate unless you “know someone”.

“If you don’t have the right person holding your hand in this country, you’re going to get your fingers burnt,” said the director of a multinational food brand.

But some see potential progress from a low base.

“The challenges we have here, if you look at them differently, they’re actually opportunities,” said former bank chief executive officer and business magnate Tony Elumelu. “For example, infrastructure is a limiting factor but it’s also an opportunity for investors.”

His gleaming glass and chrome office overlooks the leafy Lagos suburb of Ikoyi, which nicely sums up how Nigeria’s economic growth has failed to radiate. Tucked behind high walls, there are more millionaires living in this part of Lagos than anywhere in Africa, and most cities in the world. But the potholes are some of the city’s worst and flooding caused by blocked drains quickly turns roads into rivers, where sometimes barefooted fruit-sellers can be seen wading through with baskets on their heads.

Clearly, there’s a lot that needs doing – and no doubt plenty of money to be made doing it.

Monica Mark for the Guardian

10 years ago

Being African abroad: Are we a lost generation?

A few weeks ago, I was approached by an elderly Somali man who asked about my ethnicity. I responded that I was Somali. He then began to ask for help in Somali. As he described what he needed, I stood there blank-faced, staring at this man and trying to figure out how to explain to him that I could not understand Somali. I mean, yes I am Somali. But I do not speak the language.

When I finally mustered up the courage to tell him, a wave of frustration appeared on his face. He was dumbfounded. “You do not understand,” he said. “Your language is your passport. Without it, you are just a Somali by appearance and nothing else,” he protested rather poetically. I realised he made a very valid point. I truly had nothing that separated me from my fellow Canadian peers besides my skin complexion. I could not speak my language and the older I became the more I realised I had picked the ‘westernised’ card over the ‘embracing my ethnicity’ card. It was time I found my roots.

Growing up, I was always the token black kid in most of my classes. I had the darkest skin, the roughest hair. To put it simply, I was always the “sore thumb” in all my class photos. Despite being born and raised in Toronto, I was still subjected to societal segregation due to my appearance. It was nothing drastic, but I was still bullied or stereotyped by my peers and teachers. However, over time, I learned to adapt. Like a turtle, I mastered the ability to live both in water and on land. Or, I should say, I learned to survive at home and outside of my home.

I was taught at school that unlike the United States and their forceful melting pot, Canada embraced all of our various ethnic descendants. Usually, when a teacher would discuss Canada and our ‘tossed salad’ analogy, he/she would make it a fact to point at my direction while enthusiastically claiming I was an example of this wonderful multicultural nation, then ignorantly ascribing me to a random African country of his/her choosing to prove their point. During moments like those I wished that I was not a case study for my social studies class; that I could fit in with the Rebeccas and Ashleys sitting around me. To me, fitting in was entirely different from belonging. I did not feel as though I wanted to belong as I understood that I could never truly belong in this society. Instead, I felt I needed to learn how to adapt mannerisms, so that I would avoid such situations in the future. Being westernised seemed ideal.

My parents made it a point to make sure I acknowledged that I was both Somali and Muslim, as these descriptors became almost entirely interchangeable. However, at school I was just the black kid so these descriptors truly meant nothing to my classmates. As Christian beliefs dominated throughout my schooling life, trying to explain an Islamic holiday or fasting during Ramadan became irritating as my classmates could not fathom why I was not eating during lunchtime. They would ignorantly assume I forgot my lunch – every day for a month. This explanation appeared to be more logical for them to believe, rather than to care to understand that I was fasting for God. The reality was that westernised values collided with my traditional Somali values.

A “double identity” was not easy to achieve. My parents were traditional Somalis living in Toronto; my peers were all Canadians. I spent most of the day with my peers rather than my parents, so as time passed I slowly began leaning towards my Canadian identity rather than my parents’ traditional Somali one. The task of forging an ethnic identity is compounded by opposing demands from the two worlds. At school and with my peers, the more “westernised” I was the easier and more relatable I became. I wouldn’t call my parents ‘hoyo’ (mother) or ‘abo’ (father) in public, I would address them as mom and dad. I would not carry any Somali food in my lunch bag, I’d take a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with suitable snacks that I could be able to trade with the other kids during lunchtime.

I highly doubt my parents or parents of other second-generation children would imagine that their kids would be put in a situation where they would have to deal with the clashing of values. As I grew older, I began to witness the extremes: some second generation children began rejecting their culture or even effectively removing themselves from interaction with members of that culture just to avoid the stigmatisation of being associated with their nationality. Others began to develop a heightened sense of ethnic pride, often in reaction to discrimination or hostility from the host society. Either way, both seemed extremely drastic to me.

(Pic: Reuters)

The manner in which Somali youths, or even second generation African youths, understand their identity is complex. The majority of second generation Somalis struggle with the notion of identity simply because identity and culture are deeply intertwined – as religion is an identity, and nationality is an identity, and so on. It seems as though rather than incorporating various aspects of both the western culture and our traditional culture, the majority of Somalis seems to have lost the overall Somali culture in their process of attempting to assimilate into society. There are more of us, who are unable to speak the language, or who do not generally uphold our cultural values.

We tend to forget that we are the future of our cultures. We are the ones who will carry forward our language, and our traditions. However, if we are too busy attempting to assimilate into a society that essentially rejects us, who will continue to keep our traditions alive? I would like to think there is hope. We have a chance to change our situation. Rather than suppressing one’s identity, I feel as though it is time we began embracing the variety of identities.

If not now, when will we?

Iman Hassan is a specialised political science student at York University in Toronto, Ontario.