One out of four youths want to leave Kenya. They are disillusioned by what they see as lack of opportunities, corruption and tribalism. This is according to a recent study conducted by the British Council, titled ‘Next Generation Kenya’. The study interviewed 4000 young people aged 15 – 24 across the country.
These sentiments chime with a series of reflections by millennials published by The Elephant, that I have found revealing and intriguing. I was particularly struck by the millennials’ sense of a generational solidarity. I have no recollection of being similarly aware of such a connectedness with my age group outside my small circle of friends and professional peers. But then again, there was no internet or social media to spread generational memes. Though I have come across this demographic alphabet soup from marketers, I have until now been completely oblivious that I am a Generation X and we are responsible for all the millennial angst. I was also struck by the disconnect between the expectations and reality. Erudite though they are, the millennial writers seem unaware that they live in a poverty-stricken politically dysfunctional country in which only a very tiny minority gets a shot at living out their dreams.
Unemployment is the millennials’ biggest challenge by far, cited by 67 percent of the respondents.
Dear millennials, I have news for you.
An economy with a youth bulge such as we are experiencing should be cashing in on a demographic dividend. A demographic dividend is a virtuous cycle of rising saving, investment and growth associated with transition from high to low dependency population structure. Dependency ratio, which is the proportion of children and old people for each working-age adult, tells you how many dependents each income is supporting. A high dependency ratio undermines saving and investment.
Kenya’s dependency ratio has declined from a peak of 113 dependents per 100 working age adults in the early 80’s to 76 per 100 today. A decline of 36 per 100 is huge in three decades. It is in fact, one of the most dramatic in history. Our youth population is well educated by any standards, tech-savvy even, and we are told that we are one of Africa’s most attractive investment destinations. But far from rising, investment is trending downwards from 20 percent of GDP five years ago to 18 percent last year. This is despite Jubilee’s huge infrastructure spending, meaning that private investment rate has fallen precipitously. Sixty percent of the millennials interviewed in the British Council study said they were dependents. A demographic dividend is not evident.
Demographic dividends are not assured. Reaping it is subject to other enabling factors, in particular political stability, a favourable investment climate, and the youth need to be educated (not trained, but trainable). If these factors are not there, and the requisite investment fails to materialize, a demographic transition can turn into a political nightmare. The 90s wave of civil strife in West Africa, the Zimbabwe crisis and the Arab Spring all have elements of demographic transition.
Kenya’s dependency ratio has declined from a peak of 113 dependents per 100 working age adults in the early 80’s to 76 per 100 today. A decline of 36 per 100 is huge in three decades. It is in fact, one of the most dramatic in history. Our youth population is well educated by any standards, tech-savvy even, and we are told that we are one of Africa’s most attractive investment destinations. Bur far from rising, investment is trending downwards from 20 percent of GDP five years ago to 18 percent last year.
East Asia is the “go to” place to see how to cash in on a demographic dividend. The Asian Tiger’s export-led industrialization is now the stuff of legend. One of the less remarked aspects of the so called East Asian economic miracle is that it was unheralded. In those days, the leading development gurus were export pessimists. What made the East Asian leaders defy the economic wisdom of the day? There are many theories about this. My take is that they did not set out to perform miracles and become economic powerhouses. They set out to improve the lot of their people. This much one can discern by reading Lee Kwan Yew’s memoir From Third World to First: The Singapore Story. The economic miracle was a consequence, not a goal.
Ours not so.
By their own admission, the new managers of independent Kenya saw an opportunity to get rich. They could not resist it. In 1971, the Public Service Structure and Remuneration Commission popularly known as the Ndegwa Commission, summed it up thus:
“The achievement of independence in Kenya has brought with it great opportunities for individual advancement both as to main careers and in other less orthodox ways. It is understandable that public servants should have taken their opportunities like other citizens but if the benefits in some cases seem out to be out of proportion with other citizens it is inevitable that questions be asked as to how this came about.”
But the Commission went on to (in)famously applaud self-enrichment in public office: “There ought in theory to be no objection to the ownership of property or involvement in businesses by members of the public services to the point where their wealth is augmented perhaps substantially by such activities.” Ignore the “in theory” part— it was, and still is, all practice.
In a nutshell, when East Asian leaders were asking prospective investors what they needed to do for them, ours were asking what was in it for them.
What made the East Asian leaders defy the economic wisdom of the day? My take is that they did not set out to perform miracles and become economic powerhouses. They set out to improve the lot of their people. The economic miracle was a consequence, not a goal. Ours not so.
At around the time of the Ndegwa Commission Report, a high powered ILO mission in its report Employment, Incomes and Inequality: A strategy for increasing productive employment in Kenya noted:
“A search for the causes of persistent inequities and unemployment in spite of rapid growth since independence must start with the colonial situation. Kenya inherited a very lop-sided economy already organized for the effective maintenance of very different ways of life for a tiny minority on the one hand, and a very large majority on the other. Kenyanization has radically changed the racial composition of the group of people in the centre of power and many of its policies, but has had only a limited effect on the mechanisms which maintain its dominance. The power of the centre over the periphery may well be greater today than it was before.”
The ILO report was the first policy document to highlight the role of the informal economy, and to recognize its potential: “The informal sector provides income-earning opportunities for a large number of people. Though it is often regarded as unproductive and stagnant, we see it as providing a wide range of low-cost, labour intensive, competitive goods and services. Not only does it provide them without the benefit of the government subsidies and support that are received by the many firms in the formal sector, but operators in the informal sector are often harassed and hampered by restrictions imposed from outside.”
The advice went unheeded. As one Upton Sinclair observed many years ago, it is difficult to make a person understand something when their income depends on not understanding it. The policy makers the ILO mission was advising were the owners of subsidies and support they were dishing out to the formal sector firms.
In 2003, we wrote an economic recovery strategy that sought to engineer a paradigm shift in state policy from the “trickle down” economics of Sessional Paper No. 10 of 1965 as described above, to a “bottom up” strategy focused on raising productivity of resource poor smallholder farmers, pastoralists and the informal sector, in short, improving the lot of the people. This column has recounted on several occasions how that paradigm shift was frustrated by the so-called owners of capital culminating in restoration of trickle down economics a la Vision 2030.
The ILO report was the first policy document to highlight the role of the informal economy, and to recognize its potential. The advice went unheeded. As one Upton Sinclair observed many years ago, it is difficult to make a person understand something when their income depends on not understanding it. The policy makers the ILO mission was advising were the owners of subsidies and support they were dishing out to the formal sector firms.
According to a study on dairy productivity by Tegemeo Institute, our “go-to” think tank on matters agricultural policy, our smallholder farmers obtained on average 1344 kg of milk per cow (data is for 2010 but it will suffice to illustrate). The bottom fifth (“quintile” in statistical jargon) obtained 600 kg per cow while the top fifth obtained more than three times as much, at 1,960 kg per cow. What accounts for this differential? The type of cattle is the most significant. Seventy percent of the cattle kept by farmers in the bottom were traditional breeds, while 70 percent of the cattle in the top quintile are improved breeds. Breeding cattle is not rocket science.
Increasing the average production per cow to equal the top quintiles 1,960 kg translates to an increase in milk output by two million tonnes per year, from 4.3 to 6.3 million tonnes. At Ksh. 35 per kilogramme. this translates to an additional Ksh. 70 billion shillings worth of raw milk per year. But in fact 1,960 kg per cow is quite low— it works out to only 6 kg per cow per day. Githunguri farmers, the most productive in the country do an average of 6800 kg per year, a respectable 18 kg per cow. Raising the average for all smallholders to half of that translates to close to an additional 6.5 million tonnes worth Ksh. 230 billion. These are not small numbers: Ksh 230 billion is more than Safaricom’s 2017 turnover (Ksh. 212 billion).
Productivity gaps of this kind are everywhere particularly in agriculture. Last year, we slaughtered 2.6 million cattle. The average carcass weight of the cattle we slaughter is 110 kg, against a potential 180 kg. This is explained by the fact that our cattle are taken off directly from pastoralists herds and trekked long distances to market. This is a loss of 180,000 tonnes of beef which translates to Ksh. 50 billion of forgone income to producers.
Pastoralists’ productivity can be easily raised by establishing finishing (fattening) facilities for the pastoralist communities, and providing proper cattle trucks to take animals to the market. But for some reason, the livestock authorities are preoccupied with abattoirs. I have failed to understand how slaughtering scrawny animals in fancy abattoirs adds value— a cow slaughtered under a tree or in an abattoir gives you the same beef. I suspect that they think that having modern abattoirs is industrialization.
Githunguri farmers, the most productive in the country, do an average of 6800 kg per year, a respectable 18 kg of milk per cow. Raising the average for all smallholders to half of that translates to close to an additional 6.5 million tonnes worth Ksh. 230 billion. These are not small numbers: Ksh 230 billion is more than Safaricom’s 2017 turnover (Ksh. 212 billion).
It is readily apparent how improving the lot of poor smallholder farmers would create jobs. The farmers have more money to spend. There is more produce to transport, process and distribute—more jobs. Productivity growth is a win-win for everyone, producers, consumers, processors, distributors, and suppliers. Food becomes cheaper for consumers but farmers make more money because they are producing a lot more, just as the affordability of mobile phones has spawned an industry that is now more than five percent of GDP.
Remarkably, an inclusive competitive, job-creating economy would make for a bigger more profitable market for the said state elite. Some of them see it, but how to extricate themselves from the monster they have created? That is the nature of greed—the head is willing, the heart even, but the stomach is weak.
An inclusive competitive, job-creating economy would make for a bigger more profitable market for the state elite. Some of them see it, but how to extricate themselves from the monster they have created? That is the nature of greed—the head is willing, the heart even, but the stomach is weak.
“Nothing” wrote Jean Jacques Rosseau, “is more dangerous than the influence of private interests in public affairs. The abuse of the laws by the government is a lesser evil than the corruption of the legislator. In such a case, the State being altered in substance, all reformation becomes impossible.”
So there you have it dear millennials. You are on your own.
Support The Elephant.
The Elephant is helping to build a truly public platform, while producing consistent, quality investigations, opinions and analysis. The Elephant cannot survive and grow without your participation. Now, more than ever, it is vital for The Elephant to reach as many people as possible.
Your support helps protect The Elephant's independence and it means we can continue keeping the democratic space free, open and robust. Every contribution, however big or small, is so valuable for our collective future.
Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul
Only the Haitian people can decide their own future. The dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse and its imperialist enablers need to go – and make space for a people’s transition government.
Haiti is once again going through a profound crisis. Central to this is the struggle against the dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse. Since last year Mr. Moise, after decreeing the dismissal of Parliament, has been ruling through decrees, permanently violating Haiti’s constitution. He has refused to leave power after his mandate ended on February 7, 2021, claiming that it ends on February 7 of next year, without any legal basis.
This disregard of the constitution is taking place despite multiple statements by the country’s main judicial bodies, such as the CSPJ (Superior Council of Judicial Power) and the Association of Haitian Lawyers. Numerous religious groups and numerous institutions that are representative of society have also spoken. At this time, there is a strike by the judiciary, which leaves the country without any public body of political power.
At the same time, this institutional crisis is framed in the insecurity that affects practically all sectors of Haitian society. An insecurity expressed through savage repressions of popular mobilizations by the PNH (Haitian National Police), which at the service of the executive power. They have attacked journalists and committed various massacres in poor neighborhoods. Throughout the country, there have been assassinations and arbitrary arrests of opponents.
Most recently, a judge of the High Court was detained under the pretext of promoting an alleged plot against the security of the State and to assassinate the president leading to the illegal and arbitrary revocation of three judges of this Court. This last period has also seen the creation of hundreds of armed groups that spread terror over the entire country and that respond to power, transforming kidnapping into a fairly prosperous industry for these criminals.
The 13 years of military occupation by United Nations troops through MINUSTAH and the operations of prolongation of guardianship through MINUJUSTH and BINUH have aggravated the Haitian crisis. They supported retrograde and undemocratic sectors who, along with gangsters, committed serious crimes against the Haitian people and their fundamental rights.
For this, the people of Haiti deserve a process of justice and reparations. They have paid dearly for the intervention of MINUSTAH: 30 THOUSAND DEAD from cholera transmitted by the soldiers, thousands of women raped, who now raise orphaned children. Nothing has changed in 13 years, more social inequality, poverty, more difficulties for the people. The absence of democracy stays the same.
The poor’s living conditions have worsened dramatically as a result of more than 30 years of neoliberal policies imposed by the International Financial Institutions (IFIs), a severe exchange rate crisis, the freezing of the minimum wage, and inflation above 20% during the last three years.
It should be emphasized that, despite this dramatic situation, the Haitian people remain firm and are constantly mobilizing to prevent the consolidation of a dictatorship by demanding the immediate leave of office by former President Jovenel Moïse.
Taking into account the importance of this struggle and that this dictatorial regime still has the support of imperialist governments such as the United States of America, Canada, France, and international organizations such as the UN, the OAS, and the EU, the IPA calls its members to contribute their full and active solidarity to the struggle of the Haitian people, and to sign this Petition that demands the end of the dictatorship as well as respect for the sovereignty and self-determination of the Haitian people, the establishment of a transition government led by Haitians to launch a process of authentic national reconstruction.
In addition to expressing our solidarity with the Haitian people’s resistance, we call for our organisations to demonstrate in front of the embassies of the imperialist countries and before the United Nations. Only the Haitian people can decide their future. Down with Moise and yes to a people’s transition government, until a constituent is democratically elected.
Deconstructing the Whiteness of Christ
While many African Christians can only imagine a white Jesus, others have actively promoted a vision of a brown or black Jesus, both in art and in ideology.
When images of a white preacher and actor going around Kenya playing Jesus turned up on social media in July 2019, people were rightly stunned by the white supremacist undertone of the images. They suggested that Africans were prone to seeing Jesus as white, promoting the white saviour narrative in the process. While it is true that the idea of a white Jesus has been prevalent in African Christianity even without a white actor, and many African Christians and churches still entertain images of Jesus as white because of the missionary legacy, many others have actively promoted a vision of Jesus as brown or black both in art an in ideology.
Images of a brown or black Jesus is as old as Christianity in Africa, especially finding a prominent place in Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which has been in existence for over sixteen hundred years. Eyob Derillo, a librarian at the British Library, recently brought up a steady diet of these images on Twitter. The image of Jesus as black has also been popularised through the artistic project known as Vie de Jesus Mafa (Life of Jesus Mafa) that was conducted in Cameroon.
The most radical expression of Jesus as a black person was however put forth by a young Kongolese woman called Kimpa Vita, who lived in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. Through the missionary work of the Portuguese, Kimpa Vita, who was a nganga or medicine woman, became a Christian. She taught that Jesus and his apostles were black and were in fact born in São Salvador, which was the capital of the Kongo at the time. Not only was Jesus transposed from Palestine to São Salvador, Jerusalem, which is a holy site for Christians, was also transposed to São Salvador, so that São Salvador became a holy site. Kimpa Vita was accused of preaching heresy by Portuguese missionaries and burnt at the stake in 1706.
It was not until the 20th century that another movement similar to Vita’s emerged in the Kongo. This younger movement was led by Simon Kimbangu, a preacher who went about healing and raising the dead, portraying himself as an emissary of Jesus. His followers sometimes see him as the Holy Spirit who was to come after Jesus, as prophesied in John 14:16. Just as Kimpa Vita saw São Salvador as the new Jerusalem, Kimbangu’s village of Nkamba became, and still is known as, the new Jerusalem. His followers still flock there for pilgrimage. Kimbangu was accused of threatening Belgian colonial rule and thrown in jail, where he died. Some have complained that Kimbangu seems to have eclipsed Jesus in the imagination of his followers for he is said to have been resurrected from the dead, like Jesus.
Kimbangu’s status among his followers is however similar to that of some of the leaders of what has been described as African Independent Churches or African Initiated Churches (AICs). These churches include the Zionist churches of Southern Africa, among which is the amaNazaretha of Isaiah Shembe. Shembe’s followers see him as a divine figure, similar to Jesus, and rather than going to Jerusalem for pilgrimage, his followers go to the holy city of Ekuphakameni in South Africa. The Cameroonian theologian, Fabien Eboussi Boulaga, in his Christianity Without Fetish, see leaders like Kimbangu and Shembe as doing for their people in our own time what Jesus did for his people in their own time—providing means of healing and deliverance in contexts of grinding oppression. Thus, rather than replacing Jesus, as they are often accused of doing, they are making Jesus relevant to their people. For many Christians in Africa, therefore, Jesus is already brown or black. Other Christians still need to catch up with this development if we are to avoid painful spectacles like the one that took place Kenya.
In Magufuli’s Shadow: The Stark Choices Facing Tanzania’s New President
One immediate concern is what steps Hassan will take on the pandemic, and whether she will change direction.
The sudden death of Tanzania’s President John Pombe Magufuli has thrown the East African nation into a period of political uncertainty.
Vice-president, Samia Suluhu Hassan, has been sworn in as his successor, making her Tanzania’s first woman president.
The transition is all the more challenging given the major rupture – both political and economic – caused by Magufuli’s presidency. Magufuli, who won a second term in October 2020, dramatically centralised power and pursued an interventionist economic policy agenda. He courted controversy on a number of fronts, most recently, by claiming that Tanzania – contrary to mounting evidence – was Covid-free.
Hassan has called for unity and counselled that now is not the time to look at what has passed but rather to look at what is to come.
Despite the 61-year-old leader’s forward-looking stance, questions remain about how Magufuli’s legacy will shape her time in office.
The authoritarian turn
Magufuli oversaw the marginalisation of opposition parties and a decline in civil liberties. His first term was defined by heightened intimidation and violence against opposition leaders, including disappearances and physical attacks.
Thanks to five years of repression, the October 2020 general elections saw the opposition all but wiped out of elected office. The ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi now controls all local government councils. It also holds 97% of directly elected legislative seats, up from 73% in 2015.
But Magufuli’s authoritarian tendencies were not unprecedented in Tanzania. For instance, the rule of his predecessor Jakaya Kikwete was also marred by human rights abuses as well civil society and media repression. Kikwete also cancelled Zanzibar’s 2015 election due to a likely opposition victory.
It remains to be seen whether Hassan will adopt a more liberal approach, loosening restrictions on opposition parties, the media and civil society. Even if she does, the damage will take time to repair. Opposition parties, for instance, may well struggle to regain their strength. Among other setbacks, they have lost almost all local elected representatives – a core element of their organisational infrastructure built up painstakingly over decades.
Centralising power in the party
Another key pillar to Magufuli’s legacy is the centralisation of power within the Chama Cha Mapinduzi.
In the early years under founding president Julius Nyerere, Tanzania’s ruling party was dominated by the president and a hierarchy of appointed state and party officials. But, following economic liberalisation in the 1980s and Nyerere’s retirement from politics, the party became steeped in factional rivalries. These were spurred by new political alliances and an emerging private sector business elite.
This factionalism reached its height under Kikwete amid accusations of widespread corruption. Magufuli’s nomination as party presidential candidate only occurred because the rivalry among these factions left him as the unexpected compromise candidate.
Once in office, though, Magufuli quickly signalled he would be nobody’s puppet. He used his position as ruling party chairman to create a “new” Chama Cha Mapinduzi. This involved breaking with party heavyweights, including Kikwete, suppressing factional organising, and consolidating his own support base.
Magufuli’s new base was a cohort of freshly appointed party officials as well as civil servants and cabinet ministers. His loyalists likened these changes to a revival of Nyerere’s Chama Cha Mapinduzi. But, in our view, the comparison is misleading.
Like Magufuli before her, Hassan will be taking office – and party leadership – without her own political base. She will also have to contend with revived factional manoeuvring as sidelined groups try to regain an upper hand.
Hassan could align with a loyal Magufuli faction, which includes influential figures within the party. But, early indications suggest she intends to follow the advice of “party elders”, notably Kikwete. The former president reportedly attended the party’s most recent central committee meeting on Hassan’s invitation.
Aligning herself with Kikwete will likely lead to the reemergence of the internal factional rivalries that characterised the former president’s tenure.
Implications for economic policy
If president Hassan does continue to take a political steer from Kikwete, one likely outcome is that there will be a change in economic policy. In particular, a return to growth that’s led by a more business-friendly approach to the private sector.
Calls are already being made for such a course of action..
A careful reassessment of the Magufuli era is needed to guide future policymaking.
Magufuli used his control over the ruling party to pursue an ambitious policy agenda. This was also linked to his political project of centralising power.
Although this trend actually began under Kikwete, Magufuli accelelrated a move towards more state-led investment. Under his leadership, both state-owned and, increasingly, military-owned enterprises were offered strategic contracts.
Many state enterprises remained cash-starved, relied on government financial support, and registered losses.
Alongside state investment, the president also sought to discipline private sector actors. Some observers suggest that this led to more productive investment, notably by domestic investors. But others point to renewed crony capitalist ties.
Magufuli’s most high profile corporate battle was against Canadian-owned Barrick Gold and its former subsidiary, Acacia Mining. From the two, he demanded USD$190 billion in tax arrears and a renegotiation of operating terms.
Many saw this resource-nationalist approach as an inspiration and a model for African countries seeking to take greater control of their mineral wealth. But in the end – partly due to externally imposed legal and economic constraints – Magufuli walked back on some of his demands. Instead he opted for cooperation rather than confrontation.
He negotiated a joint venture in which Barrick took a majority stake of 84% and Tanzania the remaining 16%. Key elements of the nationalistic mining legislation passed in 2017 were also reversed.
On the plus side gold overtook tourism as Tanzania’s biggest foreign-exchange earner. In addition, some small-scale miners saw their livelihoods improve. Results were more mixed elsewhere, especially for Tanzanite miners in the country’s north.
Ultimately, Magufuli leaves behind a mixed economic legacy. It combines misdirected authoritarian decision-making with positive efforts to pursue an active industrial policy. Reining in unproductive domestic investors and renegotiating adverse contracts with foreign investors were part of this agenda.
There is a risk, given this complex mix, that Tanzania’s policymakers may learn the wrong lessons from his presidency, leading back to the flawed model existing before.
The pandemic and beyond
One immediate concern is what steps Hassan will take on the pandemic, and whether she will change direction.
Whatever she does, the health emergency and associated economic crisis will likely define her presidency. It could indeed define the economic trajectory of the African region in years to come.
Both Kikwete and Magufuli ruled through an economic boom period. Commodity prices were high and access to international finance was fairly easy. This gave them latitude to choose between various development approaches.
If Tanzania reverts to the status quo of the Kikwete years, the risk is a reemergence of rent-seeking but without the same highly favourable economic growth conditions. Indeed, as external conditions worsen, Hassan may find her options far more limited.
Culture1 week ago
Are Kenyan Conservancies a Trojan Horse for Land Grabs?
Politics1 week ago
Uhuru’s Wheelbarrow Woes
Politics2 weeks ago
Voting into Irrelevance
Politics2 weeks ago
Ethiopia’s Next Poll Could Be More Competitive. But Big Challenges Remain
Satire2 weeks ago
US Legislator Arrested at Secret Ceremony as British Police Brutalise Protesters
Politics1 week ago
Is a Plutocratic America in Terminal Decline?
Op-Eds1 week ago
Deconstructing the Whiteness of Christ
Op-Eds1 week ago
Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul