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RIDING THAT TRAIN, HIGH ON COCAINE: Standard Gauge Railways In Kenya and Tanzania

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China colonises Africa
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Kenya has both narrow and standard gauge railways running in parallel between Mombasa and Nairobi. Tanzania is gearing up to build a standard gauge line to Morogoro and beyond while it goes ahead with rehabilitating the existing metre gauge line. The SGR is portrayed as an ambitious regional policy linking the six EAC countries, but without unprecedented cross-border cooperation and financial commitments, it is likely to end up as two costly unfinished initiatives: Luxury passenger trains from Mombasa to Nairobi and Dar to Morogoro and (maybe) Dodoma. As collateral damage, these politically driven projects sound the death knell of the existing railway networks, including moribund branch-lines, which have suffered from decades of neglect and poor management.

For better or for worse, most cross-border freight will continue to be transported by road thanks to the private fleets of trucks built up during the post-liberalisation years in Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda

For better or for worse, most cross-border freight will continue to be transported by road thanks to the private fleets of trucks built up during the post-liberalisation years in Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda. The political influence of the trucking lobbies will help keep the roads in a reasonable state of repair. In theory, China’s One Belt One Road initiative includes the EAC-wide SGR, but in practice the rollout of the new railway will depend on intra-EAC politics, the availability of Chinese loans, or other funding, such as a sovereign “railway bond.” Going further down this route would be a recipe for disaster.

KENYA: A NEW ‘LUNATIC EXPRESS’?

“In terms of industrialisation and job creation, the impact of the SGR will be massive.”[1]

On May 31, President Uhuru Kenyatta inaugurated the Madaraka Express, thus fulfilling one of his 2012 election promises ahead of the 2017 election. If as seems likely, he retains the presidency, he will be looking for funds to continue the Express to Naivasha and beyond. The government has sold Kenyans the notion that SGR is preferable in all respects to the existing metre gauge. It is modern, faster, safer and capable of carrying greater loads, Kenyans are told. The country’s overused and murderous roads will be given a breather as freight and passengers revert en masse to rail.

Implausibly large increases in freight are required to justify the costs involved, particularly if the SGR is to extend beyond Nairobi. At $3.8 billion, the first section of the SGR is considered highly overpriced

More sober analysis suggests that, beyond short-term gains in terms of greater customer convenience, the SGR is likely to be economically and financially unviable. Implausibly large increases in freight are required to justify the costs involved, particularly if the SGR is to extend beyond Nairobi. At $3.8 billion, the first section of the SGR is considered highly overpriced.[2] To continue the line from Nairobi to the Ugandan border would cost an additional $7.2 billion, nearly double the cost of the Mombasa-Nairobi stretch.[3] Speed is not a key issue for freight, which is where the potential profits lie. What matters is cost, predictability and reliability.[4] For the projected freight volumes and axle loads, upgrading the metre gauge would have been quite adequate, some argue, at a fraction of the cost of SGR, and could have been entirely financed through the Railway Development Levy on imports.[5] SGR’s purported advantages over other gauges have been over-hyped: Brazil and South Africa move much more freight than the EAC is ever likely to with metre gauge and Cape Gauge respectively. As to being modern, the standard gauge has been around since the 1840s, when the US government declared it as the standard to be followed in all future railway construction for interconnectivity purposes.[6]

Currently, 95% of the freight leaving Mombasa goes by road and three-quarters of all freight is destined for Nairobi. Extending the SGR beyond Nairobi is unlikely to be economically viable. Trains cannot compete with trucks for scattered destinations in Kenya and further afield.[7] Last, anything near the cost of the Mombasa to Nairobi line ($5.6 million per kilometre) would be difficult to sell to Kenyans or potential financiers, and a more reasonable construction cost per km would lay bare the rip-off of SGR Part 1.

Qalaa Holdings, the main Rift Valley Railway (RVR) concessionaire, are rightly worried that the SGR will put them out of business. In 2014, RVR received a $70 million loan from a consortium of international financing agencies, as part of their $287 million financing plan for the period 2011-16. Though progress has been slow, RVR has at least increased its freight volumes, from under a million tonnes in 2012 to 1.5 million tonnes in 2014.[8] In April, Kenya Railways Corporation served RVR with a termination notice for failing to pay fees and missing performance targets.[9] Uganda is also terminating its agreement with RVR, who are likely to sue the GoK /GoU for the loss of business occasioned by the opening of the new line.[10]

By the standards of political corruption in Kenya, the SGR arguably represents considerable progress. Whereas the Goldenberg and Anglo-Leasing scams involved simple looting of the Kenyan Treasury over largely bogus projects, the SGR gives Kenyans a spanking new railway

There is a view that KRC and Uganda Railways Corporation were never happy with the privatisation of the “lunatic express,” which was heavily leveraged by donors, and that the SGR will serve to kill it off once and for all. If this happens, there will be no freight service to Kampala until the SGR is extended. Moreover, all the narrow- gauge branch lines that could have been rehabilitated will be closed down once and for all.[11]

By the standards of political corruption in Kenya, the SGR arguably represents considerable progress. Whereas the Goldenberg and Anglo-Leasing scams involved simple looting of the Kenyan Treasury over largely bogus projects, the SGR gives Kenyans a spanking new railway that will whizz them between Mombasa and Nairobi in double quick time with (hopefully) minimum risk to life and limb. No wonder wananchi are cheering. Even if the railway is (say) a billion dollars (Ksh100 billion) overpriced, that’s still a snip compared with the cost of Goldenberg (an estimated 10% of GNP)! Unfortunately, the cost of running uneconomic services may in the long-run exceed the cost of Goldenberg and Anglo-Leasing combined.

But equally sobering is the fact that just to build the Mombasa to Kampala SGR would cost in the region of a quarter of Kenya’s 2015 GDP at present estimates. There must be other priorities.

TANZANIA: PLAYING CATCH-UP?

“The new train is expected to travel at high speed of 160 kilometres per hour…”[12]

President Magufuli’s SGR initiative is his flagship infrastructure development project, but finding finance has proven problematic.[13] In January 2014, the SGR process was endorsed enthusiastically by the Davos World Economic Forum, attended by President Jakaya Kikwete. An agreement signed in May 2015 with the China Railway Materials Group proposed a standard gauge line from Dar es Salaam to Mwanza, Kigoma and Msongati in Burundi costing $7.6 billion. China’s Exim Bank would fund 10% of the project, which was partly justified as a means of accessing large mineral deposits in Tanzania and Burundi, while Tanzania was tasked to find the balance from private sources. Rothschild, one of the world’s largest financial advisory groups, was hired as a contract advisor, and it was hinted that a consortium of private financiers was being assembled. No such consortium emerged, and there has been no more talk of private finance. [14] In February 2016, Minister of Finance Philip Mpango “set the record straight,” declaring that “Tanzania cannot afford financing the SGR project using our own funds.”[15]

Why did Tanzania decide that it too wanted to go SGR when the experts warned that it was not a good idea? In a 2009 study, Canadian Pacific Consulting Services concluded that the benefit of replacing metre gauge by standard gauge in East Africa would be ‘marginal.’

Consequently, the contract with the Chinese was cancelled over alleged irregularities in the tendering process. Seeking alternative finance, President Magufuli unsuccessfully approached South African President Jacob Zuma for a loan from the BRICS bank, and the World Bank president Dr Jim Yong Kim for an IDA credit.[16] Turkish President Recep Erdogan was also lobbied during an official visit.

In April this year, Magufuli settled for a Phase 1 SGR from Dar to Morogoro (194km) costing Tsh1 trillion ($450 million), to be financed out of the country’s development budget. The contract was awarded to a Portuguese-Turkish consortium, said to have been the only bidder.[17] Phase 2 should see the line extended from Morogoro to Dodoma (263km), for an additional Tsh1.5 trillion ($675 million).

Why did Tanzania decide that it too wanted to go SGR when the experts warned that it was not a good idea? In a 2009 study, Canadian Pacific Consulting Services concluded that the benefit of replacing metre gauge by standard gauge in East Africa would be “marginal.” The conversion of the rail backbone to standard gauge was considered “cost prohibitive” using “even the most optimistic” traffic and income projections. [18] In a 2013 study, the World Bank concluded that rehabilitating existing lines was the most promising option, with a cost of $0.18 million per km compared with $3.25 million per km for standard gauge, or 18 times more.[19] But earlier feasibility studies claimed the SGR was viable. For example, in 2003, the African Development Fund financed a feasibility study for a standard gauge line from Isaka in Tanzania to Kigali and Bujumbura (1,435km) that declared the project feasible and “attractive to private investors.” This and subsequent detailed engineering proposals costing millions of dollars were based on the assumption that the new line would be built from Dar to Isaka (953km)![20]

Like Kenya, Tanzania has a poorly performing railway linking Dar to the rest of the country.[21] In November 2016, Prof Makame Mbarawa, Minister of Works Transport and Communications, told a transport sector meeting of officials and donors that the government planned to both rehabilitate the existing Central Line and start the construction of the SGR. On June 2, Reli Assets Holding Company Ltd (Rahco), issued tender documents to rehabilitate the existing railway from Dar es Salaam to Kilosa, a distance of 283km, using funds from the World Bank’s $300m Tanzania Intermodal Rail Development Project (TIRP). Launched in 2014, TIRP has had a hard time getting off the ground. It appears that while Rahco was negotiating the rehabilitation project with the World Bank, discussions were also going on with the Chinese for an SGR loan. While rehabilitating the Central Line makes sense, and is long overdue, doing this and launching the SGR concurrently makes no sense at all.[22]

While rehabilitating Tanzania’s Central Line makes sense, and is long overdue, doing this and launching the SGR concurrently makes no sense at all

Tanzania aspires to replace Kenya as the largest economy in the region, and this rivalry spills over into reciprocal trade restrictions and disagreement over the Economic Partnership Agreement with the European Union that hinder rather than promote regional integration. Inter-regional trade is said to be declining.[23] It is to be hoped that the two countries will not get involved in a wasteful beggar-thy-neighbour competition over who can build the swankiest SGR to capture the modest business in the region, especially freight, including that of their landlocked neighbours.

EAC: CO-OPERATION OR COMPETITION?

The completion of the Mombasa-Nairobi section of the SGR does not guarantee that the remainder of the Kenyan portion to Kisumu and then on to the Ugandan border will be financed, let alone the Ugandan and Rwandan sections. Though China’s Exim Bank has financed the major part of the construction to date, it appears reluctant to advance further credit without guarantees that Uganda is committed to the project.[24] Both Rwanda and Uganda are weighing up the pros and cons of the Kenyan and Tanzanian SGR options.

The early promoters of the SGR sold the project as a major step towards East African integration and economic development, including stimulating mineral exports from the EAC, DRC and elsewhere. But the above discussion suggests that, far from constituting a co-ordinated strategy to promote EAC economic integration, the two SGRs in progress are competing for much of the modest cross-border freight business. Dar and Mombasa ports compete for transit traffic. When Dar announced in 2016 that it planned to impose VAT on goods in transit, importers switched to Mombasa.[25] Realising its mistake, the Tanzanian government removed the VAT, and now hopes to attract business back from Mombasa, helped with a $150 million loan from China to upgrade the port’s handling capacity.[26]

The completion of the Mombasa-Nairobi section of the SGR does not guarantee that the remainder of the Kenyan portion to Kisumu and then on to the Ugandan border will be financed

Two-thirds of the cargo arriving in Dar port stays in Tanzania, most of the rest heads for DRC, Zambia, Burundi and Rwanda. Most Mombasa cargo stops at Nairobi, as already pointed out. Thus, given the modest volume of freight destined for landlocked countries, the justification for an EAC-wide SGR cannot be based on facilitating cross-border trade, or its likely increase in volume in the foreseeable future. SGR apologists simply ignore the economics of the huge investments required to capture such little business. If one SGR is less than obviously viable, then two can only be disastrous.

KEEP ON TRUCKING?

One key element rarely discussed in all this is the robustness of road transport throughout the region. Since trade liberalisation, Uganda, Tanzania and Kenya have built up impressive fleets of trucks carrying both fuel and containers, and road haulage has largely replaced rail, reflecting the dynamism of the private trucking sector compared with the inefficiently managed and undercapitalised state railways. Pro-road policies have been lobbied for by business associations with the support of ruling elites, themselves involved in trucking. Passengers have also migrated to privately owned buses.

The question from an EAC transport policy perspective is how state-owned railways can claw back enough trade from the trucking industry to become profitable without state subsidies, the use of force, or additional taxes. In an age where commercial activities are overpoweringly undertaken by the private sector, the move to SGR looks suspiciously like an attempt to replace relatively efficient, competitive private enterprises by state-owned monopolies. Already, importers are getting ready to resist any attempts by the GOK to force traffic onto the SGR.[27] According to one commentator on Tanzania’s proposed SGR, President Magufuli will “have to deal with the truck cartels… that have succeeded for over 40 years in keeping the government out of railway construction and maintenance.”[28] Though perhaps an exaggeration, the concern is real for all three EAC giants. Arguably more important, aid agencies have poured billions of dollars into road construction and upgrading throughout the region, much of the work undertaken by Chinese contractors.

Since trade liberalisation, Uganda, Tanzania and Kenya have built up impressive fleets of trucks carrying both fuel and containers, and road haulage has largely replaced rail, reflecting the dynamism of the private trucking sector

To plan implementable Community-wide infrastructure initiatives for the EAC rather than ad hoc bits and pieces would require an empowered EAC Secretariat with both technical competence and a delegated political mandate. SGR initiatives to date reveal that neither condition holds.[29] In March 2017, Fred Mbidde, the chair of the East African Legislative Assembly’s Committee on Communication, Trade and Investments, complained of “minimal collaboration between the regional projects.”[30] So we can expect more of the same: Dar competing with Kenya for transit trade and economic dominance, while the landlocked countries blow hot and cold on which rival to support, if any.

Politics trumps economics, as is often the case

Our presidential ruling elites are not driven to endorse major investment decisions involving private or state capital on the basis of techno-economic arguments. Their decisions are driven by short-term political considerations. When people like Kiriro wa Ngugi,[31] David Ndii[32] and John Githongo[33] blow large holes in the claims of the SGR apologists on technical, fiscal/financial and governance/corruption grounds, they are met with threats, not evidence-based counter-arguments. “No one and nothing will stop us from building the railway…” stormed Deputy President William Ruto in response to critics.[34]

For the most part, our ruling elites think short-term. Long-term concessional finance for large capital investments is attractive because the current incumbents will be retired by the time the bill arrives for the reckless projects they are committing us to today

For the most part, our ruling elites think short-term. Long-term concessional finance for large capital investments is attractive because the current incumbents will be retired by the time the bill arrives for the reckless projects they are committing us to today.[35] This helps explain why mobilising state power behind the SGR may even appear to undermine the elite’s own business interests in trucking. As long as politics is in control, elites and their supporters are confident that their trucking interests will not be threatened.

WHITE ELEPHANTS IN A CHINA SHOP?

As part of its One Belt One Road initiative, China is busy funding infrastructure, including railways, across Asia, worth up to a trillion dollars. East Africa’s SGRs are perhaps the end of the One Belt line. Beyond this, China is building long-haul and urban railway systems in 35 African countries.[36] Is China overreaching itself? The strict conditions placed on further loans for the Kenya-Uganda line suggest that China is becoming increasingly circumspect in its lending practices, worried perhaps that borrowers will start defaulting on their loans. For Africa, this wouldn’t be the first time. The Africa-wide debt crisis at the end of the last century was the result of decades of borrowing from the World Bank, IMF and other official sources, much of it on uneconomic and unsustainable projects. The debts currently piling up through soft loans from China and other sources are potentially fuelling a second debt crisis that will in turn trigger another round of debt relief. But the Chinese terms for a bail-out are unlikely to be as generous as those of the donors at the end of the last century.[37] Tying debt rescheduling to commodity exports to China, including food, is one imaginable scenario should defaults become an issue.

East Africa’s enthusiasm for the SGR solution to infrastructural constraints, for which China ultimately bears responsibility, is not going to significantly improve the region’s overall transport system or competitiveness, and at tremendous cost

Without an efficient “intermodal’” transport system in place in the region – including ports, roads, and railways – economic dynamism is seriously compromised. East Africa’s enthusiasm for the SGR solution to infrastructural constraints, for which China ultimately bears responsibility, is not going to significantly improve the region’s overall transport system or competitiveness, and at tremendous cost.

The challenge is how to temper politically motivated, short-term decision-making with a strong dose of economic and financial rationality. In this respect, for the moment, the EAC, and most of its external supporters, are failing badly.

By Boyce Sarokin
Mr Sarokin is an independent researcher based in Arusha, Tanzania

 

ENDNOTES

[1] Kenyan Cabinet Secretary for Transport and Infrastructure James Macharia quoted ahead of the opening of the SGR from Mombasa to Nairobi. See: Xinhua 2017. “Kenyans upbeat ahead of new railway launch,” Guardian, 31 May.

[2] http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-40171095.

[3] Allan Olingo 2017. “Through Beijing, East Africa is upgrading its roads, railway and ports,” The EastAfrican, May 20. Different sources give different cost estimates.

[4] ‘Freight traffic operations are much more dependent on price and service delivery (predictability of time of arrival at the destination) than on actual speed between stations. The extra speed capabilities of SGR therefore provide limited advantage over a metre gauge operation.’ Africon Ltd 2011. “The East African Trade and Transport Facilitation Project, Part II: Transport Strategy,” East African Trade and Transport Facilitation Project, EAC, November, page 61. The estimated cost (EARMP 2009) of upgrading the entire EAC railway network to SGR was between $13 billion and $29 billion.

[5] See Kiriro wa Ngugi at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgbARMS1pyY.

[6] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMUP_XMi434. The first commercial train, George Stephenson’s Rocket (1824), ran on what was to become the US standard gauge. http://www.custom-qr-codes.net/history-steam-locomotive.html

[7] Rail costs need to be 15-20% lower than trucks to compete. Unlike trains, trucks provide door to door services on demand.

[8] http://www.railjournal.com/index.php/freight/rail-freight-traffic-increases-in-kenya.html?channel=000.

At its peak in 1973, the railway transported 4.4 million tonnes.

[9] http://www.businessdailyafrica.com/news/Kenya-to-review-RVR-termination-notice/539546-3884948-xjptjf/index.html.

[10] The concession gave RVR a 25-year monopoly of railway services.

[11] Claims to the contrary by the GOK notwithstanding. See: Allan Olingo 2017. “Kenya to maintain sections of metre gauge rail linking old stations with SGR,” The EastAfrican, June 10.

[12] Florence Mugarula 2017. ‘Far reaching socio-economic benefits of SGR’, Business Standard, 18 April.

[13] Samuel Kamndaya 2015. ‘Sh60tr needed for mega projects’, Citizen, 3 September.

[14] Brian Cooksey 2016. ‘Railway rivalry in the East African Community’, GREAT Insights Magazine, Volume 5, Issue 4. July/August 2016 http://search.ecdpm.org/?q=*&fld_posttype=GREAT+insights+magazine&fld_author=Brian+Cooksey

[15] Christopher Majaliwa 2016. ‘High costs stymie standard gauge plan’, Daily News, 6 February.

[16] http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/business/Tanzania-struggles-to-finance-SGR/2560-3935412-rggugq/index.html

[17] Athuman Mtulya 2017. ‘Issue sovereign bond to fund railway project, govt advised’, Citizen, 30 April.

[18] CPCS 2009 ‘East Africa Railways Master Plan Study’, East African Community Secretariat.

[19] World Bank 2013. ‘The Economics of Rail , Gauge in the East African Community, Africa Transport Unit, August.

[20] Craig Mathieson 2016. ‘The political economy of regional integration in Africa: the East African Community’, ECDPM, January, http://ecdpm.org/peria/eac.

[21] Managed separately, the Chinese-built and heavily indebted TAZARA railway from Dar to Zambia uses the 3ft 6in Cape Gauge. Jointly owned and managed by Tanzania and Zambia, TAZARA had accumulated debts of USD787m in 2016, blamed on ‘weaknesses in management’. See: Jaston Binala 2016. ‘Plans underway to revamp Tazara railway’, East African, 14 May.

[22] To prepare the way for the SGR, many legal commercial structures and over 250 houses in Dar es Salaam worth billions of shillings have been summarily demolished without warning or compensation. See Hellen Nachilongo 2017. ‘Tears, heartbreak as houses near railway line demolished’, Citizen, 12 March; Mwassa Jingi 2017. ‘Why the latest demolitions in Dar were illegal’, Citizen on Sunday, 19 March.

[23] James Anyanzwa 2017. ‘EA states looking outward for trading patners as local ties sour’, East African, 1 July.

[24] Frederic Musisi 2017. ‘Tanzania Starts Construction of Railway Line Link to Uganda’, Monitor, 16 April

[25] Abduel Elinaza 2016. ‘Dar Port in massive transit cargo traffic volume slump’, Daily News, 3 April.

[26] https://eblnews.com/…/china-inks-multimillion-dollar-deal-expand-dar-es-salaam-port

[27] ‘Cargo transportation should be based on what the importer wants, not what the government wants.’ See: Njiraini Muchira 2017. ‘Mandatory SGR use causes unease among importers’, East African, 11 March.

[28] Attilio Tagalile 2015. Blessing and hatred from Chinese aid’, Guardian, 13 December.

[29] Craig Mathieson 2016, op. cit.

[30] Zephania Ubwani 2017. ‘EA states faulted on railway project’, Citizen, 11 March.

[31] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgbARMS1pyY; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rk4lJKgB4RU.

[32] https://www.kenya-today.com/politics/david-ndii-jubilee-spent-sh4-5b-19th-century-old-school-chinese-locomotives.

[33] https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/article/2000218960/eurobond-sgr-heists-to-finance-2017-election-campaigns-claims-githongo.

[34] Quoted in Cooksey op. cit. In Tanzania, neither civil society nor the media has challenged SGR decision-making.

[35] ‘The loan … from EXIM Bank of China comprised of a concessional loan of USD 1.6 billion and a commercial loan of USD 1.63 billion. The concessional loan is for 20 years and has a grace period of 7 years and an interest rate of 2% per annum while the commercial loan is for 10 years and grace period of 5 years…’ http://bankelele.co.ke/2017/05/funding-the-sgr.html.

[36] According to SMARTRAIL WORLD: ‘the most crucial factor in the developing African rail industry is … the influence of China, who despite warnings on their own domestic economy, are continuing to invest huge sums in the continent.’ See: Smartrail World 2016. ‘Special report: How five major African rail projects are supported by China’, 10 November. https://www.smartrailworld.com/five-major-african-projects-supported-by-china.

[37] That is, prepare and implement Poverty Reduction Strategy Papers, underwritten with more aid.

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Mr Sarokin is an independent researcher based in Arusha, Tanzania.

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My Sons Are Dead: A Mother’s Cry for Justice

As Kenya’s forgotten mothers get worn out by the load of a nation’s collective misdeeds in pursuit of political power, a day shall come when the Mama Victors will no longer be in a position to continue doing national duty as national trauma-bearers.

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My Sons Are Dead: A Mother’s Cry for Justice
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It was around 2 pm, 9th August, a day after the 2017 general election. Bernard, 25, and Victor, 22, alighted from different matatus in Nairobi’s Mathare neighbourhood. Bernard got off at stage number 10, while Victor, who was technically his younger brother, was dropped off hapo kwa vitanda (at the roadside kiosks)according to their mother’s account. Born to sisters, Bernard’s mother passed away when he was barely in his teens. He then moved in with his aunt, Mama Victor, who raised him alongside her three sons and daughter.

‘‘They grew up together,’’ Mama Victor told me when I met her in Mathare. ‘‘They were both my sons.’’

Bernard was back from Gikomba, where he worked as a tailor. Victor, a casual labourer, had come from his place of work in Westlands. They had voted in Mathare the previous morning, before reporting to work a little late than usual. On reporting to work on the 9th, they were both granted a day off, seeing that the country was on edge awaiting results of the hotly contested presidential election. Upon arriving in Mathare, the brothers found the roads blocked by protestors coming from as far as Dandora and Kayole, held back by a police cordon. That is why both Bernard and Victor disembarked from their matatus before arriving at their designated stage.

‘‘When they got off the matatus,’’ Mama Victor narrates, ‘‘they found huge crowds gathered in front of them.’’

After quickly reconnecting, Bernard and Victor looked around, recognizing familiar faces. Curious to know what the hullabaloo was all about, they walked over to their friends, asking what the matter was.

‘‘They liked asking each other Rada?Rada?’’ Mama Victor tells me, Sheng for, what’s the plan?

‘‘They didn’t even get too far into the crowd,’’ Mama Victor recollects being told by witnesses what happened.

‘‘Bernard was suddenly shot in the head, his brains blown out. Victor was shot in the stomach. I believe Victor was shot twice, though the medical report says he was shot once. His intestines spilled out. He had to hold them back using both his hands.’’

‘‘When Victor’s intestines fell out,’’ Mama Victor says and pauses, drifting away in thought…‘‘You know there are those things which if they happen to you, your body suffers a huge shock. I think when both Victor and the policemen saw his intestines hanging, they were all terrified. So Victor tried holding his intestines back, as the policemen rushed to where he was, as if they had just realized whatever damage they had done.’’

‘‘He succumbed before getting to the local hospital,’’ she says, ‘‘where the police were rushing him to.’’

Bernard, who Mama Victor says died instantly from the shot in the head, was left lying at the scene. There was nothing to salvage, with his skull shattered. A third young man, who Mama Victor says was called Paul Omena from Huruma area, and whose parents she hasn’t been able to locate to date, was also shot dead. A fourth, the luckier one of the lot, survived with a bullet wound.

Mathare had swallowed her sons alive

News reached Mama Victor at her Mathare Area 4A home that kuna vijana wameangushwa ( Some young men have been shot dead). What no one told her was that two of those vijanas were her sons. At about 3 pm, a sympathetic eyewitness knocked on her door and broke the news. Her two sons were dead.

‘‘I didn’t understand what they meant when they said my sons had been killed by the police,’’ Mama Victor remembers, ‘‘They had never had any run-ins with law enforcement. I even wondered why they had to kill them both. It didn’t make sense. Families in Mathare lost sons, but losing two sons at one go was strange.’’

By the time she got to the scene, Bernard’s body had been taken away. There was heavy police presence at the scene, Mama Victor recollects. Mathare was uninhabitable and inconsolable.

Permission to Mourn

Amid the chaos that followed the August 8 general election ( 2017) – protests by opposition supporters and police crackdowns in informal settlements like Mathare – Mama Victor had to find a way to hurriedly fundraise before transporting the bodies of Victor and Bernard to their rural home in Western Kenya for burial.

‘‘I was lucky because at least the police allowed us to mourn my sons,’’ she says. ‘‘Others are not so lucky.’’

One may wonder why anyone would need permission from the police to mourn their loved ones, usually shot dead by the police. But in Mathare’s stark reality, when young men are shot dead by the police, families have to negotiate with law enforcement for them to be allowed to either hold vigils, publicly fundraise or even erect a tent where mourners gather to condole with the family.

Amid the chaos that followed the August 8 general election ( 2017) – protests by opposition supporters and police crackdowns in informal settlements like Mathare – Mama Victor had to find a way to hurriedly fundraise before transporting the bodies of Victor and Bernard to their rural home in Western Kenya for burial.

‘‘Here in Mathare,’’ Mama Victor explains, ‘‘if your son is killed and the police label him a criminal, they won’t allow you to mourn him. You can’t have any gatherings. They won’t allow it to happen and if you insist on going ahead with one anyway, they will walk in and arrest you. Everyone here knows that much”.

Besides the ‘privilege’ of mourning Victor and Bernard, neighbours warned Mama Victor that she had to transport the bodies of her sons out of Nairobi before the Supreme Court ruled on the validity of the August 8 presidential election. By this time, the opposition coalition was in the final stages of arguing its petition against what it considered an irregular presidential vote. Kenya continued to be on tenterhooks.

‘‘There were fears in Mathare that whichever way the Supreme Court ruled,’’ Mama Victor remembers,‘‘a fresh wave of protests and police killings would break out, meaning no one would risk coming out to help me with either fundraising or funeral arrangements. I had to move fast. I was mourning and simultaneously thinking on my feet. You carry the pain of unfair deaths in your heart, but still keep your head functioning.’’

By this time, Victor and Bernard had already stayed in the morgue for close to a month, due to lack of money to transport their bodies home for burial. The meetings in Mathare could not raise a substantial amount of cash in good time, meaning they had to continue holding mini-fundraisings. In the end, Mama Victor made do with whatever little she had managed to raise, lest the Supreme Court ruling found her in Nairobi.

‘‘It was a quick burial,’’ Mama Victor narrates. ‘‘By the time we got to Western Kenya, we found the graves had already been dug and went right ahead with the internment. My sons had overstayed at the morgue.’’

By this time, Victor and Bernard had already stayed in the morgue for close to a month, due to lack of money to transport their bodies home for burial. The meetings in Mathare could not raise a substantial amount of cash in good time, meaning they had to continue holding mini-fundraisings. In the end, Mama Victor made do with whatever little she had managed to raise, lest the Supreme Court ruling found her in Nairobi.

The Pursuit of Justice

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind in Mathare that Victor and Bernard were killed by the police. Hundreds of protestors witnessed their shooting.The police themselves went as far as attempting to save Victor’s life, seeing that he hadn’t died instantly. In an ideal scenario, the case should have been an open and shut matter, with the National Police Service owning up to its officer’s excesses. Even more encouraging was the fact that there now existed the Independent Policing Oversight Authority (IPOA), a civilian agency created by an Act of Parliament (2011), which is mandated with ensuring civilian oversight on police action.

However, to the surprise of Mathare residents who have been following the case, justice remains elusive.

‘‘There are people here in Mathare who have video recordings of the police either summarily executing or beating someone to death,’’ Mama Victor tells me. ‘‘If you asked people to bring those video clips today,they’ll come forward. But what we have learnt is that no matter what amount of evidence you have, there are no guarantees that justice will be done. I have waited since 2017 for something to be done to get justice for my sons. To date, nothing has been done by either IPOA or the numerous human rights organizations.’’

After the shooting of her sons, the Mathare Social Justice Center (MSJC), one of the pioneer grassroots documenters of extrajudicial killings, reached out to Mama Victor. In a sense, MSJC has become the last line of defense for Mathare residents, where beyond just securing and preserving evidence in the form of detailed statements, young men have literally sought refuge at the center while being pursued by killer cops. However, for a community-based organization, MSJC, like other social justice centers across Nairobi’s informal settlements, has huge limitations, starting with budgetary and capacity constraints. MSJC therefore acts as a conveyor belt for IPOA and more established human rights organizations, to whom they hand over statements and evidence, with the expectation of an escalation of matters; prosecution and compensation.

MSJC was therefore Mama Victor’s first port of call, from where she was assisted to lodge her case with IPOA and a number of human rights organizations, whose mandate includes seeking legal redress in cases such as hers. Mama Victor must have been mistaken to imagine that her case would be given first priority, because of the available evidence and the enormity of her loss. The death of her two sons. To date, IPOA is yet to present her case to court over a year and a half later.

‘‘A lot of times these women don’t even have bus fare,’’ Wangui Kimari of MSJC, tells me. ‘‘Yet we try to convince them to miss a day’s work for them to record statements with IPOA or attend follow up meetings. Sometimes we take their cases to human rights organizations with capacity to prosecute, but after going through the motions, they send us back to IPOA, citing one technicality or another. It gets extremely tiring and frustrating for these women. It starts to feel like justice is a mirage.’’

‘‘Being a witness in a case against the police can be difficult,’’ Mama Victor tells me. ‘‘You can be killed either before or after you testify. Yet if you go to IPOA, it doesn’t matter if you have video clips. They want witnesses, yet everyone is afraid. Why don’t they use other methods like examining bullets found in the bodies of victims and determining whose gun they originated from? People are totally afraid of testifying.’’

If you asked anyone in Mathare to testify in a courtroom against a policeman, they will most likely remind you of the case of Christopher Maina, where the lead witness was assassinated. Maina, a twenty-something year old who was picked up from Pirates base in Mathare just before the 2017 general election and shot dead by a plain clothes policeman. The summarily execution was witnessed by one of Maina’s friends. In the course of justice for Maina, the friend became a voluntary witness, going as far as recording a statement with IPOA. It was not long before Maina’s friend was murdered, a murder that Mathare residents attribute to a notorious killer cop.

‘‘If they can kill an IPOA witness,’’ a Mathare resident posed, ‘‘then who is safe to ever testify?’’

Organizations such as the International Justice Mission (IJM) have taken up some cases involving police shootings, which complaints were originally with IPOA. However, there is discontentment in the manner the cases are selected. Mathare residents wonder, why some cases are seemingly more equal than others.

‘‘We want the police prosecuted and our families compensated,’’ Mama Victor offers. ‘‘That’s all we want.’’

In the process of speaking to residents of Mathare, I learn that there are more families whose loved ones were shot during the 2017 general election. However, due to the amount of fear the police have instilled in Mathare, these aggrieved families have opted to suffer in silence than dare step up and speak up against police brutality. They won’t even record statements, suffering from a mind numbing mix of fear and trauma.

‘‘The other reason why some mothers and wives choose to live quietly with the pain is because they feel that even if they speak up, justice can never be done,’’ Mama Victor says. ‘‘They can see the trouble some of us have gone through, yet to date, nothing has happened. Not even a mere court case has been opened.’’

‘‘Some of those who are suffering the most are survivors of police shootings during the elections, from the campaign period,’’ a resident who sought anonymity tells me. ‘‘We have some who can’t even afford healthcare. They are rotting in their houses, straining their financially incapacitated families as they await death. Majority have become disabled. In fact there’s one who is still living with a bullet. Doctors said if they remove it, he would die. He is traumatized because he knows death is only a matter of time. Another one was shot on the shoulder. He was released from a moving police vehicle, and as he was running into his home when he got shot. We have all these cases in Mathare. But IPOA doesn’t want to come and setbase here.’’

Mothers and Widows

United in grief, Mama Victor joined a number of women and widows whose sons and husbands were either killed or injured by police bullets during the 2017 general election. They formed an association, the Network of Mothers and Widows of Victims and Survivors, borrowing a leaf from the hundreds of mothers and widows across Nairobi’s informal settlements, who have lost loved ones to extrajudicial killings over time.

‘‘Currently, my network has mothers and widows of 35 survivors, 12 victims and 12 orphans,’’ Mama Victor tells me. ‘‘The victims are the dead, survivors are those who were shot but didn’t die. Some are disabled.’’

Mama Victor, who is the group’s coordinator, tells me that after she met the mothers and widows inside the network she realized how dire things were for these women, not only for her who had lost two sons.

‘‘The youngest widow in my group is an 18 year old,’’ she says, ‘‘who lost her first husband to police bullets before she was 16. On turning 16, her second husband was shot during the 2017 general election. She’s now raising a three year old without a job or anyone to fend for her. Her own mother is bed ridden. Imagine that.’’

Aside from Mama Victor, the group, which has representation from various informal settlements in Nairobi including Dandora, Kayole, Mukuru, Kiambio, Kibera, among others, has a 27 year old who is raising two sons, a 12 and 7 year old, as the oldest member. The median age of group members is below 25, with majority of their children aged under 5. This terrifying reality is a function of a poverty stricken environment, where early marriage becomes a way out of destitution for most young girls.

On the passing of Victor and Bernard, Mama Victor was left with two young widows to cater for.

‘‘Both Bernard and Victor left a wife and a child’’ she says, ‘‘and so for the months following their killing, I had to support the young wives as much as I could. But in the end, I couldn’t manage to keep them afloat. Bernard’s wife, who was an orphan, remarried. She now has a two month old baby from her new marriage. Victor’s wife, who lost her mother, retreated to her village. They’re both just trying to move on with life.’’

From time to time, women in Mama Victor’s network have to make tough choices. One of the more common ones is the decision whether to work or pursue justice for their husbands and sons. But seeing that most women from Mathare work as domestic workers, it becomes difficult for their employers to allow them consecutive off days, especially when they need to interact with either human rights organizations or IPOA, in pursuit of their cases. Therefore a good number of the women end up either losing their jobs, or not earning enough to support their young families.

‘‘I had to quit my job because I had to seek justice for my sons,’’ Mama Victor says. ‘‘My employer couldn’t allow me to keep missing work. It became difficult chasing two birds at one go. I had to let go of one.’’

Even for those willing to work, Mama Victor tells me of kukaa kwa mawe (Sitting on stone blocks), where women go looking for work, but because the economy is doing badly, they end up sitting on the roadside the whole day, waiting for families to call them in for menial work. When the jobs aren’t forthcoming, it means families sleep hungry.

‘‘I visit them and feel their pain,’’ she says, ‘‘just to make them know we’re in this together. Someone should come to the rescue of these women, even if they’ll just take care of the kids. We’re already well organized.’’

‘‘I am sorry to say this,’’ Mama Victor opens up, ‘‘but the most heartbreaking thing I have had to live with has been knowing that some young widows have had to turn to prostitution. As a mother, nothing hurts me more than seeing young women resort to selling their bodies for survival. It tells you they have reached the end of the road and given up. They come to me hoping I can offer them something, anything. But when they get to my house, they realize that I am also literally living hand to mouth. We are really suffering.’’

‘‘My heart hurts deeply,’’ Mama Victor tells me. ‘‘It’s just that I can’t always display my heartbreak.’’

Being Mama Victor

After telling and retelling her story, either to human rights organizations documenting extrajudicial killings or to investigators at IPOA, Mama Victor has gotten to a point where all she can afford in terms of emotional giveaways is to strike a forlorn look. She tells me she has run out of tears, to a point where she now speaks about her sons’ deaths as if it were a distant occurrence from a faraway dream. She is a lonely spectator, burdened with nightmarish enduring memories.

Three weeks after burying her sons, Mama Victor was back in Mathare. She would have wanted to stay in the village longer, but things were a little complicated. Following Baba Victor’s death in 2010, she had run into problems with her husband’s family over her children’s inheritance, land. A helpless widow, she lacked financial or other muscle to push back against errant family members. She surrendered to her fate.

‘‘The entire village was on my side,’’ Mama Victor tells me, ‘‘but at the end of the day, there’s nothing they could do. The immediate family had the final say on the matter, and no one could overrule them. I lost out.’’

Mama Victor first came to Nairobi with the sole intention of pursuing her husband’s pension. He worked as a civil servant, but on investigating what had happened to Baba Victor’s retirement benefits, she was informed that the money had been disbursed to his bank account by the government, but that someone had mysteriously withdrawn the entire amount. There was no way she could be assisted, unless she pursued the matter with the police. Broke and dejected, Mama Victor retreated to a church in Eastleigh, where she was urged by a group of women congregants to start afresh, lest the weight of her tribulations overwhelmed and killed her.

‘‘I started doing domestic work for families in Eastleigh,’’ Mama Victor recalls, ‘‘earning 2,300 shillings per month. At the time, my children had moved in with my parents at their rural home in Busia.The money was so little. I felt stuck, unable to provide for my children in any meaningful way.’’

With the help of women from the church, who donated household items; a blanket here, a mattress there and a few sufurias, Mama Victor managed to start all over again. Her plan was to stabilize before bringing the children over, to join her in Nairobi. With a meagre salary and chattel from the women, she rented a place.

‘‘Rent was 1,300,’’ she says. ‘‘The deposit for the house was another 1,300. That means on the first month when I rented the place, I was left without a coin. In fact, I had to look for an extra 300 to clear the payment.’’

In her little house in Mathare, Mama Victor lived with her daughter and four sons, among them Victor and Bernard. They were joined by two sons born to Mama Victor’s brother in-law. It was a full house in the literal sense, but Mama Victor had no complaints. They were all happy together. With time, the boys started getting work, marrying and moving out. Other than her youngest son, who is now 12, Victor was the youngest of the lot, much as he seemed older than everyone else due to his impressive height.

‘‘He was handsome and tidy,’’ she says of Victor. ‘‘Everyone wanted to be like him, to imitate him. He loved cleanliness from the time he was a little boy. He always stood out. He was such a lovely boy.’’

Mama Victor runs out of adjectives describing her son. There is no doubt that Victor was his mother’s pride.

‘‘Bernard and Victor loved to fool around,’’ she says, ‘‘you can’t say they were violent. Bernard was talkative whenever he was with Victor, but wouldn’t talk much ordinarily. He used to stutter. They loved each other, but beyond that, they had so much love and respect for me. I wish you saw how they behaved around me. If they had passed here and seen me, they’d have come running, saying mathe, mathe, we hadn’t seen you. ’’

Listening to Mama Victor talk, there is no doubt that something truly precious was brutally taken away from her. She speaks fondly, especially of Victor, as if he left with some unfulfilled promises, possibly to work hard and lift his mother out of the precarious existence of his birth. Despite her stoicism, one cannot miss the moments of frailty in Mama Victor’s voice. No one can bring Victor and Bernard back to life but they should at least be consensus that their deaths were unfair and unjustified.

‘‘Vitu zilienda mrama,’’ she says, things went south.

‘‘Sijui nitafanyaaje.’’ I don’t know what to do now.

Tell Uhuru and Raila

On the day I am meeting Mama Victor, she has just come back from her last born son’s school, where the 12 year old is facing a disciplinary case. The teachers have refused to allow him back in class, demanding a considerable sum of money as compensation for whatever damage the boy caused at school. Mama Victor doesn’t have that kind of money, and therefore the headteacher turned her away, refusing to give her back her son’s school bag or allow him anywhere near the school.

With her is Terry, Victor’s three year old daughter, who keeps pulling at her dress, calling her shosho. After Victor’s wife retreated to live with her father in the village, Mama Victor was left with the responsibility of raising her grandchild, who was pretty unwell at the time of our meeting. Looking at Mama Victor nursing Terry – holding her in her lap, giving her water as if breastfeeding and offering her a sole ten shillings coin to buy candy at a nearby kiosk when the little one got restless, one is extremely moved by the plight of a woman, who has had to bury her sons and now single handedly raise their little children.

‘‘Sometimes I feel like I am going crazy,’’ Mama Victor tells me. ‘‘Look at a day like today. I am coming from my son’s school where the teachers are being unreasonable. Then I have to deal with Terry’s health complications, keep pursuing justice for her father and uncle and still find a way to earn a living. Feeding these children is the toughest task because they can’t understand that sometimes one lacks even a cent.’’

After our long chat, Mama Victor tells me she has a message for two individuals; former Prime Minister Raila Odinga and President Uhuru Kenyatta. According to her, Victor and Bernard, among tens of others – over 100 individuals according to the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights (KNCHR), including a six-month infant and a 9 year old – all died because the two men were fighting for Kenya’s presidency. But after the dust settled, Uhuru and Raila made peace, and are now bosom buddies. Mama Victor’s question is, were Victor and Bernard, and the many others, mere collateral damage in a game of political chess? She wonders how the country can ever heal yet the bearers of the nation’s collective terminal pain and wounds have never spoken to it. Are they a sore reminder, to be erased and forgotten?

Sometimes I feel like I am going crazy,’’ Mama Victor tells me. ‘‘Look at a day like today. I am coming from my son’s school where the teachers are being unreasonable. Then I have to deal with Terry’s health complications, keep pursuing justice for her father and uncle and still find a way to earn a living. Feeding these children is the toughest task because they can’t understand that sometimes one lacks even a cent

‘‘I want them to come here,’’ Mama Victor says. ‘‘We want nothing from them. We want to see them with our eyes, for them to see us and know that we exist. They need to know curses come in different forms. Our pain alone is a curse to them. We want absolutely nothing from them. But they must come here and see us.’’

Are Mama Victor’s words a warning shot, a threat, a plea, or all of them rolled into one? Will the big men and their peace-architects listen, or will Mama Victor’s cries and those of others go unheeded? As Kenya’s Mama Victors get worn out by the load of a nation’s collective misdeeds in pursuit of political power, a day shall come when the Mama Victors will no longer be in a position to continue doing national duty as national trauma-bearers. That day, the chain holding Kenya together shall surely break.

 

Postscript: The network of mothers and widows of victims and survivors invited the Independent Policing Oversight Authority (IPOA) to the Mathare Social Justice Center (MSJC) on 04 July, to ‘‘reflect on case management, witness protection, advocacy and psychosocial support.’’ IPOA didn’t show up. 

A criminal human rights reporting project by Africa Uncensored (AU) and the Institute of War and Peace Reporting (IWPR)

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Borders versus People – Part II: Congo – A Classic African Tragedy

The spat between the Rwandan and Ugandan leaders may have more to do with their interests in their neighbour Congo than with any ideological or political split, argues KALUNDI SERUMAGA in this second of a three-part series. How long will the DRC remain the hunting ground for foreign predatory forces? And what does this spat say about the future of Pan-Africanism and regional integration?

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The borders between Uganda, Congo and Rwanda were drawn in the early 1900s. This was not an African decision. A joint team made up of officials representing the German, Belgium and British empires surveyed the hills of the region and made a decision. It was not a simple matter. At one point, they were attacked by a party of rebels led in 1911 by the anti-colonial Nyabinghi warrior Muhumuza, who ambushed a joint Anglo-Belgian-Germany Boundary Commission. It was to be her last operation. She was injured, captured and imprisoned by the British in Buganda for the rest of her life. Forty of her fighters were killed.

But that is the story for Part III of this series.

For now, the story is this: Those white man’s borders still eat African lives. On 27th March this year, a Rwandan national named Elizabeth Mukagarukwiza collapsed and died on the Ugandan side of the closed border while running from Rwanda security officials trying to take her back to Rwanda. She was reportedly in search of medication related to her pregnancy.

On May 24th, two men, one Ugandan, one Rwandan, were shot dead after being intercepted on a goods run into Rwanda. Like many others, they were not carrying anything ordinarily illegal.

First, as usual, it will be the peasants. The rest of us, all things remaining constant, will be caught up with later.

Borders versus People - Part I: The Tribe Conundrum

Read Also: Borders versus People – Part I: The Tribe Conundrum

Both incidents were immediate victims of the increasingly absurd bouts of megaphone diplomacy between the two countries. At one point, in a bid to deny their border incursion, some Rwandan officials even found themselves claiming that the smugglers – one Ugandan and one Rwandan – had been shot dead inside Rwanda, despite their bodies being found on the Ugandan side.

Overall, the crisis has enabled us to more clearly discern two things previously held tight by the now unsettled inner circles.

First, the people of Rwanda, for all their country’s reported developmental progress, remain seriously poor. Many will continue living outside their country, or seek to do so, for economic reasons, rather than political ones.

Second, President Yoweri Museveni’s support to the 1993 Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) rebel invasion of Rwanda, and the eventual overthrow of the regime in Rwanda was much more extensive and explicit than many thought at the time.

Third, that the enmity between these two hitherto sister regimes is rooted in their joint sojourn in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).

Having been repeatedly assured that Eastern Africa’s future lies only in ever-greater regional integration, the sight of the principal proponent of this view, and the principal product of its attempted implementation standing now at loggerheads, will be most confounding to those genuine Pan-Africanists in support of that great expression of their ideals – the East African Federation.

Let me put it this way: Who holds the legitimate voice of the various peoples of East Africa? That question is critical to the future of the idea of a regional integration.

Having been repeatedly assured that Eastern Africa’s future lies only in ever-greater regional integration, the sight of the principal proponent of this view, and the principal product of its attempted implementation standing now at loggerheads, will be most confounding to those genuine Pan-Africanists in support of that great expression of their ideals – the East African Federation.

First, who exactly is in conflict with whom, in this instance? Clearly, it would not be correct to call this a conflict between Uganda and Rwanda for the simple reason that despite grand claims to the contrary, neither government can prove they actually represent the will and aspirations of their citizens. Yoweri Museveni of Uganda and Paul Kagame of Rwanda came to power through armed might, relying on narrow ethnic-favouring armies, and have been energetically stage-managing presidential elections – not to mention constitutional controls on their tenures – ever since.

On the other hand, neither can we call this a conflict between two men. Clearly there are interests broader than the personal views of the two principals involved, not to mention the hundreds of minions that have been scurrying about in their name, arresting, deporting, vilifying, abducting, counter-deporting and spaying on each other.

This is a clash of regimes, and the corpus of the respective crony interests that have built up around them over the decades.

Ironically, it is also unavoidable, given that both leaders chaperone exactly the same competing global ambitions and interests in the Great Lakes region, which is exactly what led to the great falling out between their respective armies in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Until then, it did not seem possible to imagine any kind of disagreement ever-emerging between them or their leaders, certainly not in the Pan-African mind.

Congo: Heart of dark foreign forces

But Congo is not the “heart of darkness” of Kurtz’s rendering. Congo is the beating heart of Africa, long excised from her body by a series of venal occupiers: first King Leopold of Belgium, then his state, then Marshal Mobutu as the nyapara for Western corporations there. Finally, our liberators moved in, and the real story of the Uganda-Rwanda border is actually the story of whether they ever actually left.

In that sense, Congo is the heart of light, in that it illuminates all the dark places of a person’s soul, and lays bare their true character, as Joseph Conrad’s Congo did with Kurtz. Ugandan and Rwandan armies entered the DRC as liberating heroes. Today, they are rightly seen as the villains who brought the place to final ruin.

But Congo is not the “heart of darkness” of Kurtz’s rendering. Congo is the beating heart of Africa, long excised from her body by a series of venal occupiers: first King Leopold of Belgium, then his state, then Marshal Mobutu as the nyapara for Western corporations there. Finally, our liberators moved in, and the real story of the Uganda-Rwanda border is actually the story of whether they ever actually left.

It is this centrality to the continent, bordering nine other countries that led Frantz Fanon to call Congo the “trigger” for the coming African revolution. The whole bounty of Africa’s riches seems to lie within her reach.

Along with its current membership of the Southern African Development Community (SADC), and the Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS), Congo, if it so wished, could be a member state of the East African Community (EAC) and technically even of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS). Its size seems to match only its sheer known mineral wealth, upon which this historical procession of predators feast.

If there is one population on the entire continent least deserving of further depredations, robberies and violence, it is the people of the DRC.

Before even Leopold, so much of its population was fed into the ships of the transatlantic slave trade for centuries that there is even a location called “Congo Square” in what is now the American city of New Orleans, in which the building blocks of American jazz were shaped by enslaved Africans on their occasional days off.

There followed a slavery-in-place, as Belgium’s Leopold organised the extraction of rubber and cocoa through forced labour camps.

William Lever, the British industrialist, was so impressed by the economic efficiencies of the slave labour system that he went into partnership with Leopold for the steady supply of the palm oil he needed to massively expand his soap manufacturing business.

This classic African tragedy, however, did not stop the two great Pan-African armies from clashing there three times, and in the process, basically laying waste the eastern city of Kisangani. Some truly epic levels of energy were expended in the stealing of minerals, lumber and other valuables from the DRC. This progressed from the mere looting of mining company stores to the taking over or establishment of artisanal mines, and even the importation of slave labour made up of “idle” ghetto youth swept off the ghetto streets from as far away as Kampala.

The International Court of Justice’s 2005 ruling against Uganda, as well as a United Nations report on Rwanda, carries the outlines of the criminality, despite furious denials from the culprits. The 10-billion-dollar penalty against Uganda remains unpaid, but the wider crime is to have created the conditions that have led to the deaths of an estimated six million Congolese people.

It would be a mistake to see any of these crimes as events that happened a long time ago, and far away. Lever’s company lives on today as Unilever. Find a moment to go and check how many of the manufactured items on your kitchen and bathroom shelves are made by this company. Congo’s long misery put Unilever in a position to be able to put them there.

The International Court of Justice’s 2005 ruling against Uganda, as well as a United Nations report on Rwanda, carries the outlines of the criminality, despite furious denials from the culprits. The 10-billion-dollar penalty against Uganda remains unpaid, but the wider crime is to have created the conditions that have led to the deaths of an estimated six million Congolese people.

And by taking the role of Mobutu, these two friends’ occupying armies and proxy militias have enabled other Western corporations to hold Congo in that position ever since. The quarrel is about which of these twins will be the principal instrument in the facilitation of this plunder, with more than a little benefit to itself.

Either this Pan-African idea does not really exist, or these leaders have never believed in it.

This is simply the story. Now we need the story behind the story, which I will explore in Part III of this series.

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Borders versus People – Part I: The Tribe Conundrum

Post-colonial Africa’s historical ideological trajectory has been to insist that all the peoples found within any given set of colonial borders at independence could only be considered as “tribes”. In this first of a three-part series, KALUNDI SERUMAGA examines tribal or ethnic identity in the context of shifting political alliances and loyalties.

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Africa’s borders are one of Pan-Africanism’s foundational obsessions. Are they ours, or Europe’s? Do we keep them, or erase them? Did we ever have our own?

Since just before the February decision by the Rwandan government to prevent access to its side of the border with Uganda, we have witnessed a shadowy quarrel between the presidencies of the two countries conducted in shorthand. The border closure was the first openly physical expression of this private argument. Since then, the language has become more robust, and the actions more direct, and even deadly.

With that act, Pan-Africanism came up against the realities of the European-designed political power upon which its member states rest. Perhaps, it will finally now look for an answer to its foundational riddle.

Some background may help here.

Yoweri Museveni, first as anti-Amin rebel activist, and later President of Uganda due to the bush exertions of his National Resistance Army (NRA), was seen –and saw himself – as the embodiment of the Pan-African ideal. Among his victorious soldiers were not insignificant numbers of refugees from Rwanda, some of whom had joined his crusade as far back as the days of General Idi Amin (1971-1979).

Museveni’s embrace, and even promotion to high office, of these excluded Africans was seen as real pan-Africanism in action. Paul Kagame was Uganda’s Deputy Director of Military Intelligence, and Major Fred Rwigyema (who died and was replaced by Kagame as the head of the Rwanda Patriotic Front [RPF]) was the Deputy Minister for Defence.

All this was celebrated, not least by the then luminaires of the attempted revival of the global Pan-Africanist movement led by the magnificently deluded Nigerian activist Tajudeen Abdul-Raheem, who went on to hold what was to be a major re-organisational 1994 conference in Kampala, which was gifted with a permanent secretariat afterwards.

Finally, the notion was cemented by the generous assistance Museveni’s NRA lent to the RPF invasion of Rwanda. In fact, the array of names of the Rwandan personalities (some now deceased) now quarreling among themselves contained a few alumni of Uganda’s Makerere University, as well as former employees of the Ugandan government. During broadcasts, if it were not for the bloodletting, it would be almost amusing watching them dispute in their Ugandan-accented English.

The genesis of the current stand-off

After the RPF victory in Kigali, one would have thought that the Pan-African flower had now bloomed. The RPF was viewed as part of the NRA but under a more focused leadership of the austere-looking disciplinarian Paul Kagame, with none of the shortcomings NRA have so venally displayed once in power.

The current stand-off is, therefore, a culminated development in a political history reaching back over four decades, which has come to define how a generation or two understand politics, war and regional diplomacy. The details of all the attendant schemes, betrayals and illegitimate victories, are theirs. The implications, however, belong to all of us. If these two peas-in-a-pod cannot get on, then who in the region will?

After the RPF victory in Kigali, one would have thought that the Pan-African flower had now bloomed. The RPF was viewed as part of the NRA but under a more focused leadership of the austere-looking disciplinarian Paul Kagame, with none of the shortcomings NRA have so venally displayed once in power.

But perhaps the problem is precisely that many were seeing something that was not really there?

For its part, Kigali eventually made it known that it believes Kampala had already been offering support to a nascent armed rebellion being assembled, it claims, in the forests of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), and led by Kayumba Nyamaswa, a former RPF general. This was flatly denied by Uganda’s long-standing Minister of Foreign Affairs (and even longer-standing in-law to the president), Hon. Sam Kuteesa, who said: “Uganda cannot allow its territory to be used to threaten the security of a neighbouring country.”

Given the military role of the government in which Kuteesa serves in changing the governments of the DRC twice, South Sudan (through helping the secession), and of course Rwanda (by which means Paul Kagame became president in the first place), this must be the ultimate demonstration of diplomat-speak.

And given the fact the President Paul Kagame willingly accepted assistance offered by the Ugandan government (in which he was serving at the time) in that interference that led to the collapse of the regime of then Rwandan president Juvenal Habyarimana, perhaps this alleged assistance to his erstwhile General Nyamwasa should not be a cause for surprise, let alone outrage. He will certainly know what may follow.

The rebellion against the regimes of Idi Amin and Milton Obote basically involved arming refugees and exiles, among others, to help wage a war of the government of the country that was hosting them. This was followed by the arming of refugees to invade a neighbouring country, and then arming refugees and ethnic minorities to march against two DRC governments in Kinshasa, where the armies of Uganda, and Kagame’s Rwanda were to work together in driving the armed movement that removed the regime of Marshal Mobutu from the DRC, and backstopped events around the death of Mobutu’s first replacement.

After a lifetime of breaking rules and flouting the procedures and principles of International relations, President Kagame can hardly suddenly expect them to be upheld in respect to his own regime. And especially not by his former accomplice in such conduct.

President Kagame has a long and complex relationship with the Uganda-Rwanda border. At a personal level, he has been responsible for its security and integrity not from one, but both sides, first, as a very senior Ugandan military intelligence officer, and now as President of Rwanda. He has also crossed it in illegal fashion, first as a child in a family seeking refuge, and lastly as a Ugandan-based armed rebel. And now he has shut it down.

Between the countries, the story becomes even more complex. In the last major constitutional revamp, Uganda included a group defined as “Banyarwanda” in the schedule of “tribes” or ethnic groups of the country. This came about for two main reasons: first, there are significant communities of Ugandan citizens in the far southwest of the country that are of the same ethnicities as those found throughout neighbouring Rwanda. This is a common African situation.

President Kagame has a long and complex relationship with the Uganda-Rwanda border. At a personal level, he has been responsible for its security and integrity not from one, but both sides, first, as a very senior Ugandan military intelligence officer, and now as President of Rwanda.

The other reason is that the NRA’s struggle for power did – as the case of President Paul Kagame shows – take on board very many Rwandan refugees (largely of Tutsi origin). These refugees’ initial attempts to obtain Ugandan citizenship after the 1979 fall of General Amin’s government were opposed by many indigenous Ugandan politicians. Despite that (or perhaps as a result of it), they had gone on to swell the ranks of the NRA as it battled the regime of the then President Milton Obote following the stolen 1980 elections. The NRA’s control of full state power on its own standing ushered in the change in their status.

Much as it has enabled Ugandans of Rwandan ethnicity from the Uganda side of the border to stop having to be named after the nearby mountains or to have other labels (sometimes epithets) foisted upon them by their neighbours, this situation only creates further complications for Pan-Africanism, which as yet remain unacknowledged conundrums, but that will be significant in the future.

To complicate matters further, Uganda also has many people of Burundian origin who migrated to the country in the decades following the establishment of the colonial state. How come they have not been recognised as a separate “ethnicity”? More closely, there has been the argument, in the case of the Rwandan “ethnicity”, that perhaps Uganda should have recognised Rwandan Hutus and Rwandan Tutsi as separate groups, as had historically been the case back in Rwanda.

A similar question has been raised about the Asians settled in the country for nearly a century who have made sporadic requests for “tribal” recognition. In their case, will it go back to the Hutu and Tutsi question: will they be labelled the “Asian tribe”, or will they get registered as the various ethnic or caste groups that they identify with in India or Pakistan?

Tribe or nation?

Post-colonial Africa’s historical ideological trajectory has been to insist that all the peoples found within any given set of colonial borders at independence could only be considered as “tribes”, the raw material out of which the new nation would be built. This an extremely deeply entrenched mindset among almost the entire African political class, irrespective of country, and whether in government or in the opposition.

But here’s the thing: In the case of the members of the relatively newly-established Rwandan tribe of Uganda, one only has to cross the border (once re-opened) to morph into a member of a nationality, without a change in ethnicity.

Between the countries, the story becomes even more complex. In the last major constitutional revamp, Uganda included a group defined as “Banyarwanda” in the schedule of “tribes” or ethnic groups of the country.

The question arises as to how a European-drawn border developed the magical power to transform the same African ethnicity into either a “tribe” or a “nation”, depending on which side of that border it stood.

Other “tribes” in Uganda, such as (famously, or perhaps infamously) the Baganda, remain trapped. Their pre-colonial status as a nation cannot be as easily re-actualised, as they have no such border they can cross. These designated “tribes” have a dubious status within the given polity. Their rights are ephemeral at best. Their continued existence is viewed with official suspicion, a sort of pre-colonial hangover that must be progressively extinguished, through political means if possible, but by naked force, if necessary. They present in public life often as an abused bargaining tool by members of the petit bourgeois class found among them, as they blackmail those holding state power. “Tribalism” is the destructive political habit that results, and is then used to further stigmatise native identity.

Perhaps Kampala’s problem – evidenced historically by the belittling and patronising attitude towards Kigali since the RPF took power there – is that it cannot shake the thinking that the Kigali regime is little more than a Ugandan “tribe” that happens to control another country. In short, an extension of the attitude it holds towards all the ethnicities within the ambit of its own borders.

All these realities and events strongly suggest that the border is the least of our worries; it is what lies beneath, and before. This is what we shall examine in Parts II and III of this series.

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