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Real or “Portal” Growth: Why Businesses Are Going Bust and People Are Struggling to Make Ends Meet as the Numbers Say the Economy Is Roaring like an Asian Tiger

8 min read. The economies may be growing, but because unemployment and underemployment are also rising, the incomes of those that are earning are supporting more people. People are not feeling the growth. Instead, they are feeling the financial burden of adult children who were expected to be contributing to family upkeep.

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Real or “Portal” Growth: Why Businesses Are Going Bust and People Are Struggling to Make Ends Meet as the Numbers Say the Economy Is Roaring like an Asian Tiger
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Did the economy really grow by 6.3 per cent last year, or is someone pulling wool over our eyes? Or as we say these days, is it real growth or the one you have to log into the #GoKDelivers portal to see? When the figure was first disclosed by Uhuru Kenyatta in his State of the Nation address last month, I received a call from a very disturbed Nairobi businessman who challenged me to explain to the public, in language they can understand, how the economy can be said to be growing as fast as it was during the Kibaki years yet businesses are collapsing and ordinary citizens can barely make ends meet. As it happens, my very first op-ed of this, my second stint as a columnist (I wrote a weekly column for the Sunday Nation in the mid to late 90s), published in January 2014 and titled Why you are struggling to make ends meet, was on this very subject. 

One of the observations that has led people to question the 6.3 per cent growth is the poor performance of big companies. Year after year, listed companies are issuing profit warnings. There is now hardly a listed company – other than banks – that has not issued a profit warning over the last three years. Is it possible for the economy to grow while businesses are making losses? The answer is yes.

To see how this could happen, we need to understand what GDP actually is and how it is computed. GDP is short for Gross Domestic Product, which means the quantity (not value) of all goods and services produced in an economy. Sukari Mills is a sugar producer. In 2017, Sukari produced 20,000 tonnes of sugar, down from 25,000 tonnes in 2016, due to drought.

In 2018, production recovers to 25,000 tonnes. Trouble is, during 2017, the government opens the duty-free import window, and “tenderpreneurs” inundate the country with (contaminated) sugar. Consequently, in 2018, Sukari suffers both depressed prices and depressed sales, and posts a huge loss. The GDP accountants will capture the 25 per cent increase in production, as well as the economic activities created by the imported sugar, that is, the transportation, warehousing, packaging and distribution. Sugar GDP will be up big time, even as Sukari and other millers chalk up losses.

The recovery of the agricultural sector from drought is in fact the story behind the 6.3 per cent growth figure. Agricultural sector GDP grew 6.4 per cent, just about the same rate as the economy. But it was all recovery growth since the sector had slumped from 4.9 per cent in 2016 to 1.9 per cent in 2017.

Because agriculture is the single largest sector, accounting for a third of the economy, what happens to agriculture has a big effect on the overall GDP growth figure. This year’s long rains were late, and have been poor – another challenging year for agriculture

Looking at the actual production of some principal commodities, we see that coffee, sugarcane and milk are well below 2016 levels and that tea is only 4 per cent higher. Only maize production is well above the 2016 harvest (see table). Moreover, while production increased, prices for most products were lower in 2018. Maize led the way with prices down 56 per cent, from Sh4,000 to Sh2,260 per bag. Coffee prices were down 15 per cent while tea, sugar and milk prices were down by between 6 and 9 per cent. But as observed, GDP growth only captures volume, not value – hence the fact that milk farmers are suffering from depressed prices will not be reflected.

 

It is readily apparent that a number that fluctuates with the weather is not an ideal measure of economic performance. In fact, in economics this is not what we mean by economic growth – we refer to it as “change in output”.

Because agriculture is the single largest sector, accounting for a third of the economy, what happens to agriculture has a big effect on the overall GDP growth figure. This year’s long rains were late, and have been poor – another challenging year for agriculture. Next year the story may be the opposite.

It is readily apparent that a number that fluctuates with the weather is not an ideal measure of economic

performance. In fact, in economics this is not what we mean by economic growth – we refer to it as “change in output”. It is useful for studying macroeconomic policy on managing inflation and the like, but not as a measure of progress towards prosperity or lack thereof. For prosperity questions, we are interested in how two – often very similar – countries start out at an income level of $500 per person and twenty years on, one is at $1,500 and the other $5,000. This boils down to the following simple question: how countries raise productivity. Let me illustrate.

Land is the ultimate finite resource, and when you use it for one thing, it not available for another. Material inputs, fertilizers, tractors, irrigation systems, etc. require us to save and invest, and there is a limit to how much we can save. The whole point of saving and investing is to consume more tomorrow, but starving oneself today in order to eat endlessly tomorrow does not make economic sense.

Nanjala, a maize farmer in Busia produced 100 bags of maize last year on ten acres of land. This year she has produced 120 bags. There are a number of ways in which she could have done this. I’ll focus on three. One, she could have obtained the additional 20 bags from tilling two more acres of land. Two, she could have applied more fertilizer on the ten acres and increased her yield to 12 bags per acre. Three, she could have adopted a new high yielding variety that gives 15 bags per acre, meaning that she obtained the 120 bags from tilling eight acres. To till more land, it stands to reason that she would have had to use more labour as well. It is also the case that if she used more fertilizer, more labour and more capital were also used. But the case of adopting new high yielding seeds is different. The additional 20 bags were obtained by using less land, less fertilizer and even less seeds. The only additional input is knowledge, that is, the science and research resources that developed the new seed variety.

It is not too difficult to see that we cannot sustain growth by using more resources. Land is the ultimate finite resource, and when you use it for one thing, it not available for another. Material inputs, fertilizers, tractors, irrigation systems, etc. require us to save and invest, and there is a limit to how much we can save. The whole point of saving and investing is to consume more tomorrow, but starving oneself today in order to eat endlessly tomorrow does not make economic sense.

Knowledge is different. New knowledge and technology enable us to do more with less. And once new knowledge is introduced, in this case a seed variety, its benefits will spread widely at little or no cost; word of mouth is sufficient to spread the news about Nanjala’s 15 bags per acre all over Busia County. In economics, we say that consumption of knowledge is non-rivalrous. We can’t farm the same land, but we can share seeds. In today’s tech parlance, we say that it has high scalability.

In economic accounting, we call the growth associated with more material inputs factor accumulation. The growth that remains after we have accounted for factor accumulation we refer to as total factor productivity (TFP). TFP is the growth that enables a society to become wealthy over the long haul. If we were to rely on tilling more land to feed the burgeoning population we’d wake up one day and find that we’ve cleared the entire Mau forest – which is where we are headed. If we are to rely on irrigation and other material inputs we will, sooner or later, run out of water and drown in a mountain of debt – which is where we are headed.

But TFP is not reported in the GDP growth headline news, and you cannot see it in the data unless you know where to look. We need to do a number-crunching exercise we call growth accounting, which decomposes the growth into its sources, namely capital accumulation, labour force growth and TFP. I do not have growth accounting analysis of Kenyan GDP readily available but as it happens, the most recent edition of the IMF’s Africa Regional Economic Outlook published this past April has just what we need.

The chart shows Africa’s and Asia’s growth decomposed into physical capital, human capital and TFP. These three components are what I defined earlier as factor accumulation. Human capital is “proxied” by the change in average years of education in the workforce. By proxy we mean that it is not the actual human capital but the closest data we have that approximates it.

In the decade and a half from 2000 to 2014, Africa’s economy grew by 5 per cent per year. Productivity grew at less than 1 per cent per year – about 17 per cent of the growth – with the rest coming from factor accumulation. Asia grew by 7.2 per year, with productivity growth at 2.7 points per year, contributing close to 40 per cent of the growth.

The red segment at the bottom of the bar is the TFP while the green, light blue and dark blue segments above represent growth attributable to more workers (or labour force growth), more human capital (better educated/skilled workforce) and more physical capital (infrastructure, machines, etc.) respectively, all of which add up to factor accumulation. But the IMF has its colours the wrong way round. The red ink is what corresponds to profit in a business, while the blue ink is capital expenditure, a cost. The red ink is what pays the bills.

In the decade and a half from 2000 to 2014, Africa’s economy grew by 5 per cent per year. Productivity grew at less than 1 per cent per year – about 17 per cent of the growth – with the rest coming from factor accumulation. Asia grew by 7.2 per year, with productivity growth at 2.7 points per year, contributing close to 40 per cent of the growth.

From 2015 onwards, Africa’s productivity growth has slumped to 3 per cent per year, and productivity growth has turned negative. This translates to investing more and getting less output per unit of investment. If we go back to Nanjala’s farm, it is the equivalent of increasing acreage from 10 to 12 acres but getting 108 bags, meaning that average yield has declined from 10 to 9 bags per acre. While Asia’s economies have also slowed down a little, productivity growth has actually increased to 3 per cent per year and, in fact, it is investment in physical capital that has slowed down the most.

The seemingly small magnitude of this divergence in productivity growth is deceptive. An economy where incomes are rising by three per cent per year doubles its income in 25 years; the one per cent economy will take 70 years. This is precisely the difference in growth rates that has left people asking how the Asian Tigers left us behind. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

Kenya is typical of the Africa growth story. This analysis is making a point that I have belaboured over the last five years – that we are squandering money on vanity infrastructure projects of little or no economic value. When the government borrows domestically and invests unproductively, it deprives the private sector of the use of those domestic savings on more productive investments. We also do not produce the capital goods that go into these investments. There is no money that comes into the economy when we borrow from China to build a railway. What we are really doing is taking Chinese goods and services on credit, but as every shopaholic knows, the credit card starts burning a hole in the pocket right away. Asia on the other hand, manufactures its capital goods, hence its infrastructure and other capital investments stimulate and create jobs domestically.

We already know that most of the capital is in public infrastructure with little or no impact on productivity – you need only think of the SGR railway. While the growth accounting analysis shows us the employment contribution, it does not tell us what the expanding workforce is doing. We know that the majority are absorbed in the informal economy where they have little capital to work with, since the government has hogged all the domestic savings, leaving little for the private sector to equip workers with productive capital. While the aggregate data will show that capital per worker is rising, in reality, it is falling since the aggregate figure includes every worker’s slice of the SGR railway, for example. Moreover, we do know that our economies are not creating nearly as many jobs as they should. As the African Development Bank’s (AfDB) most recent Africa Economic Outlook report laments, “the rapid growth achieved in Africa over the last two decades has not been pro-employment”. This is a consequence of the infrastructure-led growth paradigm that this very institution bears most responsibility for promoting.

The economies may be growing, but because unemployment and underemployment are also rising, the incomes of those that are earning are supporting more people. People are not feeling the growth. They are feeling the financial burden of adult children who were expected to be contributing to family upkeep.

Next time you hear them trumpeting five, six, seven per cent GDP growth, you know what to show them.

David Ndii
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David Ndii is a leading Kenyan economist and public intellectual.

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South Africa: Xenophobia Is in Fact Afrophobia, Call It What It Is

5 min read. Anti-African violence in South Africa is fuelled by exclusion, poverty and rampant unemployment. This isn’t black-on-black violence. This is poor-on-poor violence.

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South Africa: Xenophobia Is in Fact Afrophobia, Call It What It Is
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Written in May 2008, as African bodies burned on the streets of South Africa, Ingrid De Kok’s throbbing poem Today I Do Not Love My Country poignantly captures the mood of an Afrophobic nation fluent in the language of violence and name-calling.  (I say Afrophobic because South Africa does not have a xenophobia problem. We don’t rage against all foreigners—just the poor, black ones from Africa.)

The irony of South Africa’s most recent attacks on African immigrants is that they happened in the wake of the African Continental Free Trade Agreement which positions the country as an economic gateway to the continent. As the debris is cleared off the streets of Johannesburg after a week of violent looting and attacks against African migrant-owned businesses that saw eleven people killed and almost 500 arrested, Pretoria now faces calls to boycott South African-owned businesses on the continent.

Zambia and Madagascar cancelled football matches. Air Tanzania has suspended flights to South Africa. African artists are boycotting South Africa. Should an Afrophobic South Africa lead the African Union next year?

The irony of South Africa’s most recent attacks on African immigrants is that they happened in the wake of the African Continental Free Trade Agreement which positions the country as an economic gateway to the continent

The South African government has remained steadfast in its denial of Afrophobia, opting instead to condemn “violent attacks” and highlight the criminal elements involved in looting African-owned businesses. The police attributed the attacks to “opportunistic criminality”. By denying that these are Afrophobic attacks, everyone can deny the role of South Africa’s political leadership in fomenting the hatred.

The Afrophobic attacks are not spontaneous criminal mobs preying on foreigners. They are the result of an orchestrated, planned campaign that has been fuelled by the ongoing anti-immigrant rhetoric of South African politicians.

The All Truck Drivers Forum (ATDF), Sisonke People’s Forum and Respect SA stand accused of orchestrating last week’s violence. ATDF spokesperson, Sipho Zungu, denied that his group had instigated the violent looting, saying that “the nation is being misled here.” Zungu did stress, however, that South African truck drivers “no longer have jobs” and the government “must get rid of foreign truck drivers.”

Zungu echoes the sentiments of many poor South Africans, and their views are the end result of a drip-feed of anti-immigrant messages from South African politicians, particularly in the run-up to this year’s elections.

Anti-African violence in South Africa is fuelled by exclusion, poverty and rampant unemployment. This isn’t black-on-black violence. This is poor-on-poor violence.

One-third of South Africans are unemployed. Thirteen per cent of South Africans live in informal settlements, and a third of South Africans don’t have access to running water. The problems are a combination of the country’s apartheid past and rampant corruption and mismanagement within the ANC-led government. Crime is climbing, mainly due to corrupt and dysfunctional policing services, high unemployment and systemic poverty.

By denying that these are Afrophobic attacks, everyone can deny the role of South Africa’s political leadership in fomenting the hatred.

South African politicians from across the spectrum have blamed immigrants for the hardships experienced by poor South Africans. Political parties tell voters that foreigners are criminals flooding South Africa, stealing their jobs, homes and social services, undermining their security and prosperity.

Even the government sees poor and unskilled African migrants and asylum seekers as a threat to the country’s security and prosperity. Approved in March 2017, its White Paper on International Migration, separates immigrants into “worthy” and “unworthy” individuals. Poor and unskilled immigrants, predominantly from Africa, will be prevented from staying in South Africa by any means, “even if this is labelled anti-African behaviour” as the former Minister of Home Affairs, Hlengiwe Mkhize, pointed out in June 2017. The message is simple: there is no place for black Africans in South Africa’s Rainbow Nation.

In November 2018, Health Minister Aaron Motsoaledi claimed in a speech at a nurses summit that undocumented immigrants were flooding South Africa and overburdening clinics and hospitals. When immigrants “get admitted in large numbers, they cause overcrowding, infection control starts failing”, he said.

Johannesburg—the epicentre of the anti-African violence—is run by the Democratic Alliance (DA), the second-largest political party in South Africa after the ruling African National Congress (ANC). DA mayor, Herman Mashaba, has been leading the war against African immigrants.

In a bid to attract more support, Mashaba and the DA have adopted an immigrant-baiting approach straight out of Donald Trump and Jair Bolsonaro’s playbooks.

Mashaba has described black African migrants as criminals and has spoken of the need for a “shock-and-awe” campaign to drive them out.

In February 2019, Mashaba diverted attention away from protests against his administration’s poor service delivery in Johannesburg’s Alexandra township by tweeting that foreigners had made it difficult to provide basic services.

On August 1, police operations in Johannesburg to find counterfeit goods were thwarted by traders who pelted law-enforcement authorities with rocks, forcing the police to retreat. Social media went into overdrive, with many accusing the police of being cowards running away from illegal immigrants. Mashaba was “devastated” by the police’s restraint. A week later over 500 African immigrants were arrested after a humiliating raid, even though many said they showed police valid papers.

In 2017, South Africa’s deputy police minister claimed that the city of Johannesburg had been taken over by foreigners, with 80% of the city controlled by them. If this is not urgently stopped, he added, the entire country “could be 80% dominated by foreign nationals and the future president of South Africa could be a foreign national.”

None of this anti-immigrant rhetoric is based on fact. Constituting just 3% of the South African population, statistics show that immigrants are not “flooding” South Africa. They aren’t stealing jobs from South Africans and nor are they responsible for the high crime rate. South Africa’s crime problem has little to do with migration, and everything to do with the country’s dysfunctional policing services, unemployment and poverty.

Johannesburg—the epicentre of the anti-African violence—is run by the Democratic Alliance (DA), the second-largest political party in South Africa after the ruling African National Congress (ANC). DA mayor, Herman Mashaba, has been leading the war against African immigrants.

But South African politicians don’t let facts get in the way.  After all, it’s easier to blame African immigrants rather than face your own citizens and admit that you’ve chosen to line your own pockets instead of doing your job. If you can get others to shoulder the blame for the hopeless situation that many South Africans find themselves in, then why not?

South Africans are rightfully angry at the high levels of unemployment, poverty, lack of services and opportunities. But rather than blame African immigrants, frustration must be directed at the source of the crisis: a South African political leadership steeped in corruption that has largely failed its people.

The African Diaspora Forum, the representative body of the largest group of migrant traders, claimed that the police failed to act on intelligence that it had provided warning of the impending attacks. It took almost three days before Cyril Ramaphosa finally issued weak words of condemnation and for his security cluster to meet and strategise.  All of this points to a government refusing to own its complicity and deal with the consequences of its words.

South Africa has fallen far and hard from the lofty Mandela era and Thabo Mbeki’s soaring “I am an African” declaration.

Senior political leaders in South Africa are blaming vulnerable Africans for their failure to adequately provide a dignified life for all South Africans. Until this scapegoating stops, violent anti-African sentiment will continue to thrive, and South Africa will entrench its growing pariah status on the continent.

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A New Despotism in the Era of Surveillance Capitalism: A Reflection on Census 2019

6 min read. In the creeping securocratisation of every sphere of the State, the incessant threats and arbitrary orders, the renewed quest for that elusive all-encompassing kipande, and even the arbitrary assignment of identity on citizens, Montesquieu would see a marked deficiency of love for virtue, the requisite principle for a democratic republic.

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A New Despotism in the Era of Surveillance Capitalism: A Reflection on Census 2019
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The just concluded census 2019 brought with it many strange occurrences including the official classification of my good friend Rasna Warah as a Mtaita, a community to which she is only very remotely connected by virtue of being married to a husband whose mother is a Mtaveta. The Taita and Taveta, who give their home county Taita-Taveta its name, are two related but distinct ethnic groups. Rasna’s ethnicity is unambiguous, she is a Kenyan Asian, which should be one of the ethnicities available on the census questionnaire.

In standard statistical practice, people’s racial and ethnic identity are self-declared and the identity questions usually have options such as “other” and “mixed” as well as the choice not to disclose. But Rasna was not given a choice, as she recounts here. While this may seem like a trivial matter, the undercurrents of racism and patriarchy in this action are disturbing. It is, I think, even more alarming that the enumerators, given a little authority, felt that they had the power to exercise discretion on the matter.

Past censuses have been rather uneventful statistical exercises. This one had the aura of a security operation. In the run-up, we were treated to all manner of threats and arbitrary orders from the Internal Security Cabinet Secretary, the Jubilee administration’s energetic and increasingly facile enforcer. On the eve of the census, the government spokesman added to the melodrama by issuing a statement informing the public that census enumerators would be asking for personal identification details, including national ID and passport numbers and, ominously, huduma namba registration status. There are few issues as controversial right now as huduma namba and to introduce that question was a sure way of heightening suspicion and undermining the credibility of the census.

More fundamentally, anonymity is a canon of statistical survey work. In fact, the law prohibits dissemination of any information which can be identified with a particular respondent without the respondent’s consent. For this reason, censuses and statistical surveys are usually designed and the data maintained in such a way as to ensure that the respondents remain anonymous.

In October last year, the Government gazetted the census regulations that include a schedule of the information that would be collected. Identity information is not listed in the schedule. In January this year, the Keya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS) issued a media briefing, still on their website, that also listed the information that would be collected. It too does not mention identity information. That it was the Government spokesman—and not the KNBS—who appraised the public, and only on the eve of the census, is telling.

The response to the protestations that met the disclosure was vintage Jubilee—dishonest and inept. The spokesman explained that the personal identity information would be removed to restore the anonymity of the data. If indeed the purpose was to establish registration coverage, the professional statisticians would have asked respondents to state their registration status. Moreover, for planning purposes, professional statisticians would have designed a comprehensive module that would have included other critical information such as birth registration status.

The draconian zeal with which huduma namba is being pursued—including the proposed legislation—is all the more perplexing because, since all the functions listed are those that are currently served by the national ID, the sensible thing to do would be to upgrade the national ID. Seeing as we have already had three national ID upgrades since independence, it seems to me unlikely that a fourth upgrade would have generated the heat that the huduma namba has.

In The Spirit of the Laws, Montesquieu classified political systems into three categories, namely republican, monarchical and despotic. He defined a republican system as characterised by citizenship rights. A republican system is democratic if political equality is universal, and aristocratic if the rights are a privilege that is denied to some members (e.g. slaves). In monarchical systems, the rulers have absolute authority governed by established rules. In a despotic system, the ruler is the law.

Montesquieu postulated for each system a driving principle, ethos if you like, on which its survival depends. The driving principle of a democratic republic is love of virtue— a willingness to put the public good ahead of private interests. He opined that a republican government failed to take root in England after the Civil War (1642-1651) because English society lacked the required principle, namely the love of virtue. The short-lived English republic, known as the Commonwealth of England, lasted a decade, from the beheading of Charles I in 1649 to shortly after the death Oliver Cromwell in 1659. The driving principle of monarchical systems is love of honour and the quest for higher social rank and privilege. For despotism it is fear of the ruler. The rulers are the law, and they rule by fear.

In The Spirit of the Laws, Montesquieu classified political systems into three categories, namely republican, monarchical and despotic. He defined a republican system as characterised by citizenship rights.

Identity documents are a key element of the apparatus of despotism. Our own identity card has its origins in the colonial kipande (passbook). As Juliet Atellah narrates in Toa Kitambulisho! Evolution of Registration of Persons in Kenya,

“The Kipande was worn around the neck like a dog collar. The Kipande contained the wearer’s tribe, their strengths and weaknesses and comments from his employer on his competence, therefore, determining his pay or whether or not he would be employed. The government used the Kipande to curtail freedom of Africans and monitor labour supply. It also empowered the police to stop a native anywhere and demand to be shown the document. For Africans, the Kipande was like a badge of slavery and sparked bitter protests.”

In essence, the kipande was a surveillance tool for an indentured labour system which enabled the settler economy to suppress wages. But it was not perfect. Keren Weitzberg, a migration scholar and author of We Do Not Have Borders: Greater Somalia and the Predicaments of Belonging in Kenya, makes an interesting and insightful contextual link between huduma namba and the colonial quest to better the kipande revealed in a recommendation that appears in a 1956 government document:

“Consideration should be given to the provision of a comprehensive document for Africans, as is done in the Union of South Africa and the Belgian Congo. This should incorporate Registration particulars, payment of Poll Tax, and such other papers as the African is required to carry or are envisaged for him, e.g. Domestic Service record and permit to reside in urban areas. Eligibility under the Coutts proposals for voting might also be included in the document. The document would then become of value to the holder and there would be less likelihood of its becoming lost or transferred, as is the case with the present Identity document.” 

The purpose of the huduma namba is the same as that of the “comprehensive document for Africans”—to instill in people the sense that Big Brother is watching. But despotism is not an end in itself. The raison d’être of the colonial enterprise was economic exploitation. This has not changed.

The 2001 Nobel Prize for Economics was shared by George Akerlof, Michael Spence and Joseph Stiglitz for their analysis of markets with asymmetric information. A market with asymmetric information is one where material attributes of a good or service are private information known only to the seller and not observable by the buyer; the seller has an incentive to conceal the attributes. In essence, it is a market where the buyer cannot be sure that they will get what they pay for. Asymmetric information problems are pervasive in labour and credit markets.

Identity documents are a key element of the apparatus of despotism. Our own identity card has its origins in the colonial kipande (passbook). As Juliet Atellah narrates in Toa Kitambulisho! Evolution of Registration of Persons in Kenya

A potential employer cannot tell in advance whether a worker is a performer or not, or even whether he or she is dishonest—they only get to know that after hiring the worker, and at considerable cost if they get it wrong. We know that job seekers go out of their way to misrepresent themselves, including faking qualifications and references, and concealing adverse information such as previous dismissals and criminal records. To mitigate the problem, employers go out of their way to obtain and check out references including certificates of good conduct from the police.

The original kipande, as Atellah notes, included information on the bearers “strengths and weaknesses and comments from his employer on his competence.” It does not require too much imagination to see how errant natives would have made for a severe labour market information asymmetry problem, motivating the settler economy to invent this seemingly innocuous but probably effective labour market information system.

Similarly, a potential borrower’s creditworthiness is not observable to lenders. Lenders only get to sort out good and bad borrowers from experience. A customer’s credit history is a lender’s most valuable asset. A public credit reference system, such as the Credit Reference Bureaus, is a device for mitigating credit market information asymmetry. The parallel with the kipande character reference is readily apparent.

In essence, the kipande was a surveillance tool for an indentured labour system which enabled the settler economy to suppress wages.

As a credit information system, the digital panopticon envisaged by huduma namba is priceless, and as one of the country’s leading mobile lenders, the Kenyatta family-owned Commercial Bank of Africa (CBA) is the primary beneficiary. Indeed, well before the public was informed about it, huduma namba featured prominently in a CBA-led mobile lending platform project called Wezeshafeatured in this column—that was subsequently rebranded and launched as Stawi.

Nine years ago this week, we promulgated a new constitution. Since its enactment the political and bureaucratic establishment has spared no effort to restore the unfettered discretion and apparatus of rule by fear that the new constitutional dispensation is meant to dismantle. Early in its term, the Jubilee administration sought to pass a raft of security-related legislation that would have clawed back most of the civil liberties enshrined in the Bill of Rights. Uhuru Kenyatta is on record, in one of the pre-election TV interviews, attributing his underwhelming performance to the constraints on his authority by the 2010 Constitution. He went on to express nostalgia for the old one.

In the creeping securocratisation of every sphere of the State, the incessant threats and arbitrary orders, the renewed quest for that elusive all-encompassing kipande, and even the arbitrary assignment of identity on citizens, Montesquieu would see a marked deficiency of love for virtue, the requisite principle for a democratic republic.

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Africa and Palestine: A Noble Legacy That Must Never Be Forgotten

4 min read. Today’s generation of African leaders should not deviate from that the solidarity between Africa and Palestine. Indeed, writes RAMZY BAROUD If they betray it, they betray themselves, along with the righteous struggles of their own peoples.

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Africa and Palestine: A Noble Legacy That Must Never Be Forgotten
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Europe’s “Scramble for Africa” began in earnest in 1881 but never ended. The attempt at dominating the continent using old and new strategies continues to define the Western relationship with this rich continent. This reality was very apparent when I arrived in Nairobi on June 23. Although I had come to address various Kenyan audiences at universities, public forums and the media, I had also to learn. Kenya, like the rest of Africa, is a source of inspiration for all anti-colonial liberation movements around the world. We Palestinians can learn a great deal from the Kenyan struggle.

Although African countries have fought valiant battles for their freedom against their Western colonisers, neocolonialism now defines the relationship between many independent African countries and their former occupiers. Political meddling, economic control and, at times, military interventions – as in the recent cases of Libya and Mali – point to the unfortunate reality that Africa remains, in myriad ways, hostage to Western priorities, interests and dictates.

In the infamous Berlin Conference of 1884, Western colonial regimes attempted to mediate between the various powers that were competing over Africa’s riches. It apportioned to each a share of the African continent, as if Africa were the property of the West and its white colonists. Millions of Africans died in that protracted, bloody episode unleashed by the West, which shamelessly promoted its genocidal oppression as a civilisational project.

Like most colonised peoples in the southern hemisphere, Africans fought disproportionate battles to gain their precious freedom. Here in Kenya, which became an official British colony in the 1920s, Kenya’s freedom fighters rose in rebellion against the brutality of their oppressors. Most notable among the various resistance campaigns, the Mau Mau rebellion of the 1950s remains a stark example of the courage of Kenyans and the cruelty of colonial Britain. Thousands of people were killed, wounded, disappeared or were imprisoned under the harshest of conditions.

Palestine fell under British occupation, the so-called British Mandate, around the same period that Kenya also became a British colony. Palestinians, too, fought and fell in their thousands as they employed various methods of collective resistance, including the legendary strike and rebellion of 1936. The same British killing machine that operated in Palestine and Kenya around that time, also operated, with the same degree of senseless violence, against numerous other nations around the world.

While Palestine was handed over to the Zionist movement to establish the state of Israel in May 1948, Kenya achieved its independence in December 1963.

At one of my recent talks in Nairobi, I was asked by a young participant about “Palestinian terrorism”. I told her that Palestinian fighters of today are Kenya’s Mau Mau rebels of yesteryear. That if we allow Western and Israeli propaganda to define Paestine’s national liberation discourse, then we condemn all national liberation movements throughout the southern hemisphere, including Kenya’s own freedom fighters.

We Palestinians must however shoulder part of the blame that our narrative as an oppressed, colonised and resisting nation is now misunderstood in parts of Africa.

When the Palestine Liberation Organisation committed its historical blunder by signing off Palestinian rights in Oslo in 1993, it abandoned a decades-long Palestinian discourse of resistance and liberation. Instead, it subscribed to a whole new discourse, riddled with carefully-worded language sanctioned by Washington and its European allies. Whenever Palestinians dared to deviate from their assigned role, the West would decree that they must return to the negotiating table, as the latter became a metaphor of obedience and submission.

Throughout these years, Palestinians mostly abandoned their far more meaningful alliances in Africa. Instead, they endlessly appealed to the goodwill of the West, hoping that the very colonial powers that have primarily created, sustained and armed Israel, would miraculously become more balanced and humane.

When the Palestine Liberation Organisation committed its historical blunder by signing off Palestinian rights in Oslo in 1993, it abandoned a decades-long Palestinian discourse of resistance and liberation.

However, Washington, London, Paris, Berlin, etc., remained committed to Israel and, despite occasional polite criticism of the Israeli government, continued to channel their weapons, warplanes and submarines to every Israeli government that has ruled over Palestinians for the last seven decades. Alas, while Palestinians were learning their painful lesson, betrayed repeatedly by those who had vowed to respect democracy and human rights, many African nations began seeing in Israel a possible ally. Kenya is, sadly, one of those countries.

Understanding the significance of Africa in terms of its economic and political potential, and its support for Israel at the UN General Assembly, right-wing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has launched his own “Scramble for Africa”. Netanyahu’s diplomatic conquests on the continent have been celebrated by Israeli media as “historic”, while the Palestinian leadership remains oblivious to the rapidly changing political landscape.

Kenya is one of Israel’s success stories. In November 2017, Netanyahu attended the inauguration of President Uhuru Kenyatta. Netanyahu was seen embracing Kenyatta as a dear friend and ally even as Kenyans rose in rebellion against their corrupt ruling classes. Tel Aviv had hoped that the first-ever Israel-Africa summit in Togo would usher in a complete paradigm shift in Israeli-African relations. However, the October 2017 conference never took place due to pressure by various African countries, including South Africa. There is still enough support for Palestine on the continent to defeat the Israeli stratagem. But that could change soon in favour of Israel if Palestinians and their allies do not wake up to the alarming reality.

The Palestinian leadership, intellectuals, artists and civil society ambassadors must shift their attention back to the southern hemisphere, to Africa in particular, rediscovering the untapped wealth of true, unconditional human solidarity offered by the peoples of this ever-generous continent.

Kenya is one of Israel’s success stories. In November 2017, Netanyahu attended the inauguration of President Uhuru Kenyatta. Netanyahu was seen embracing Kenyatta as a dear friend and ally even as Kenyans rose in rebellion against their corrupt ruling classes

The legendary Tanzanian freedom fighter, Mwalimu Julius Nyerere, who is also celebrated in Kenya, knew very well where his solidarity lay. “We have never hesitated in our support for the right of the people of Palestine to have their own land,” he once said, a sentiment that was repeated by the iconic South African leader Nelson Mandela, and by many other African liberation leaders. Today’s generation of African leaders should not deviate from that noble legacy. If they betray it, they betray themselves, along with the righteous struggles of their own peoples.

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