minorities in focus

Ishbel Matheson hears how the rich resources of Lake Victoria are dwindling, while the Nyala fishing community fails to benefit

Kisumu, on the shores of Lake Victoria, still hasn’t recovered from Kenya’s post-election violence. After nightfall, this normally thriving city, vibrant with music, dancing, eating and drinking, is unusually subdued. The scars of the violence run deep. Indiscriminate police shooting left many dead in Kisumu after the disputed poll results.

Kisumu is the heartland of the Luo tribe - whose main political leader is Raila Odinga. It is widely believed in Kenya (including by many from the dominant Kikuyu tribe) that President Kibaki and his Kikuyu-dominated PNU rigged the election to keep Raila’s ODM out of power.

Despite being the second largest tribe, the Luos have never held Kenya’s top job, and following the Grand Co-alition deal, brokered by Kofi Annan, the presidency remains with the Kikuyus. This still rankles with some Luos - and Raila had a tough job selling the benefits of the co-alition to his people when he travelled to Kisumu a week ago.

But I did not travelled to Kisumu to reflect on the broader Kenyan political picture. I went to see for myself the difficulties faced by the Nyala fishing community, a group who don’t even have official recognition, forget a place in the political life of the country. Despite the fact they provide an essential service, linked to the lake they call home, they do not benefit from the rich resources the lake holds. Instead, this group remains officially unrecognised in Kenya, and is normally assimilated into the bigger Luhya group. And down on the lakeshore, about three hours drive from Kisumu, the fishermen described their concerns about the dwindling fish stocks in Lake Victoria.

They said the lake was fished round the clock, and even as we spoke, the long-prowed boats were skimming over the shimmering blue water, delivering their catch of tilapia and Nile Perch to buyers on the shore. The problem, say Nyalas, is that the business is now so profitable that outsiders from elsewhere in Kenya have moved in. ‘The lake is tired,’ one fisherman told me.

They welcomed the creation of a new fisheries ministry under the new government, but said it was only a first step. They also want to see a better road down to the beaches (the one that I travelled was lousy), and a processing plant in the area, instead of the fish being transported to far-away Nairobi.

And of course, they want a say in how the precious resources of Lake Victoria are managed. After all, they argue, they understand better than anyone the fragility of the lake’s eco-system. Without sustainable practices, they fear future generations of Nyala may not be able to survive from fishing for long.

You can find out more about how different ethnic groups in Kenya were affected by the post-election violence on MRG’s dedicated page Minority Voices from Kenya.

In the second of her blogs from Kenya, Ishbel Matheson sees the living conditions of the Endorois, and has a bad car day

The day began badly. The car broke down, belching black smoke, on the outskirts of Eldoret, where I had been visiting camps for those displaced by the political violence earlier in the year. I was bound for Lake Bogoria in the Rift Valley - one of the premier tourist spots in the country. It is also the ancestral home of the Endorois - but when the area was gazetted as a National Park in the 1970s, the Endorois were evicted, with only paltry promises of compensation.

Endorois rep Wilson Kipkazi was keen that I see for myself the living conditions of his people. But it was well after 2pm before we arrived at Lake Bogoria, picked up two local councillors who had been waiting since early morning, and set off towards the Endorois villages. It was a pretty, but rough road that threaded through acacia trees, bound for a now-defunct ruby mine. But it was an encounter with a steep river crossing that proved to be our undoing.

The car lurched down a steep bank, into a shallow river… raced up the bank at the other side and… slid back down again. The driver, John Kangethe, tried again… but to no avail. And the tricky issue was that, not only could he not go forward, he didn’t have enough room to turn and race back up the other side.

Worst case scenarios flashed through my mind: hours of fruitless pushing, shoving stones under wheels, and oh yes, the familiar prospect of everyone but everyone, including the watoto (children), becoming experts on four-wheel driving, and shouting multiple, conflicting advice to the driver on which way to turn the wheel. The councillor, of course, was reluctant to go back - because he had arranged a community meeting on the other side - so insisted on a couple more valiant efforts up the bank on the other side. But once the gear box started to whine oddly, I foresaw a night in the car, in the middle of nowhere, beckoning. I started to wave my arms madly and shout, ‘No, no, STOP!’Although loathe to give up the sport of trying to get a 4×4 car up a river bank, everyone reluctantly agreed, and a temporary road in the river bank was cleared to allow the car to drive out.

The second councillor wanted us to continue to his community. ’It’s not far’he assured me, as I looked dubiously at my watch. 4pm. ’Just round there’, he said flapping his hands vaguely. Two hours later, the sun sinking spectacularly, in purple, crimson, and pink hues on the other side of the Rift, we were still grinding up a punishing escarpment, heading further and further away from civilisation. Anxiety beset me. Driving at night in Africa is always a really bad idea - especially when thunderclouds are in the sky, and there is no road to speak of. Finally, I said ‘We really, really do have to go back’. The councillor and Kipkazi conferred and the councillor made a couple of phone calls. Yes folks; even in the middle of nowhere, these days there is a mobile telephone network in Kenya. At the next bend, we came to a village where a community group had been waiting for about eight hours, for our arrival.

The men (and one woman) gathered in a little clearing, and a bench was brought for us, and as the last light faded from the sky, they explained the difficulties: the cattle-rustling Pokot were launching raids into their traditional lands, killing some people, and leading to greatly increased insecurity; the more frequent cycles of drought had also decimated herds, making it difficult to find the funds to send children to school; the nearest hospital was 60 kilometres away, so the community had built a dispensary and health clinic from their own funds; but the government had failed to staff it, or give it any supplies. Indeed, apart from a recent visit from the new District Councillor, they had not seen a politician in their area, or a government official since 2005. At heart, this small community shares many of the problems experienced by minorities around the world. In a country where political power flows from economic muscle, their ancient cattle-herding traditions, their remote location, has left them on the very fringes of society.

We spent barely half an hour with them, but they were unbelievably grateful that someone, anyone, from the outside world had come to listen to their story. Back in the car again, we lurched back down the escarpment. It was pitch dark, and Kipkazi and the councillor were conferring in their local language. Kipkazi turned to me, and told me that the place we had stopped on the way up to take pictures of the Rift was in fact a place where the Pokot hung out to ambush people. We passed two members of the Il Chamus tribe, armed with shotguns, guarding their villages from Pokot attacks. At that point, I felt things couldn’t get any worse. But they did. In the couple of hours since we had driven up, it had rained in the Valley. The ground was now dangerously soft, and we had to creep forward while the councillor leant out of the window, peering at the ground in the pitch dark, and guiding the car forward. After an hour and a half of nerve-wracking travel, including the further revelation that we were actually travelling on an ‘unofficial’ road, that the alternative was too dangerous, we eventually reached terra firma, and safety.

Later, in the hotel, I told Kipkazi that I’d been worried that we’d never get the car out of the river bed. He laughed and said. ‘Oh Cynthia and Clive got stuck for three hours’. (Cythia Morel is MRG’s legal cases officer, and Clive Baldwin was formerly head of international advocacy). ‘But,’ he continued, ‘it was fine when I took Sian,’ (an external evaluator for the MRG legal cases programme). A thought began to creep into my head. Had every single MRG staff member who had visited the Endorois gone down the ruby road? Was this some kind of initiation rite? Kipkazi confirmed he had also taken Samia Khan, our head of programmes, on the same torturous journey. ‘But,’ he said ‘Paile (MRG’s African Commission project officer) hasn’t been.’ He shot me a side-long twinkly glance. ‘She’s in my sights’. Paile, you have been warned!

Ishbel Matheson, MRG’s Head of Policy and Communications, reports back from a trip to Kenya to research the situation of minorities following the recent violence

From the moment I landed, the effects of the recent convulsive violence were felt. Politics are an obsession. When the evening news comes on, busy restaurants and bars fall silent. Everyone is trying to figure out whether the Grand Coalition government, bringing together the opposition ODM and President Kibaki’s PNU, is going to last. Although it is early days - it looks pretty fragile. Already the opposite wings of the coalition have publicly contradicted each other, on key issues such as how to bring the perpetrators of the violence to justice. Every detail of senior politicians movements, and statements, are pored over. For example, when the new Prime Minister, Raila Odinga, went to ’sell’ the new government in his heartland of Western Kenya at the weekend, it was immediately noted that no senior PNU official accompanied him. How much of a partnership is this government, in reality, Kenyans are asking themselves.

They are, however, anxious that the terrible ethnic violence doesn’t return. On a drive up through the Rift Valley, from Nakuru to Eldoret, the landscape was scattered with sobering reminders of what the violence cost - in human terms. Burnt-out shells of buildings - shops, sheds, homes - dot the side of the road. Farms have been abandoned. Here, the Kikuyu ethnic group was targeted by the Kalenjin. Scores of lives were lost and tens of thousands displaced. Although the largest ethnic group in Kenya (and one which has been dominant politically and economically since independence), the Kikuyu are a minority in this part of the Kenya.

Weeks have passed since the last violence, but no one feels secure. 20,000 Kikuyu are still camped in Eldoret’s showground. The government is threatening to forcibly relocate them back home, but many are simply too fearful. They say there must be talks with Kalenjin village elders first, to get guarantees about the return of property and security. On the Kalenjin side, there are calls for those arrested in the wake of the violence to be freed as a gesture of reconciliation - something the Kikuyu see as completely unacceptable. Depressingly, although everyone agrees that tribalism in Kenya has got completely out of control, and that the political class are mostly to blame, there has nevertheless been a hardening of ethnicity. One Kikuyu told me the main message his community drew from the violence is that “the Kikuyu weren’t strong enough…we won’t be caught out like this again”. It is simply too early to say yet whether Kenya is on the road to recovery - or to ruin.

You can find out more about how different ethnic groups in Kenya were affected by the post-election violence on MRG’s dedicated page Minority Voices from Kenya.

Whilst attending the 43^rd session of the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights in Swaziland MRG’s International Human Rights Officer for Africa, Paile Chabane, continues with her work to facilitate the setting up of an African Minorities Forum

I wake up not feeling too well… have a bad headache and already wonder if I will be able to make it to our meeting in the afternoon. But other responsibilities force me to get up anyway and go into Mbabane town. Again I am struck at how unfamiliar this place feels.

Our side event is scheduled to start at 3pm and CEMIRIDE are busy finalizing the arrangements. Having arrived three days earlier, which afforded them the opportunity to attend the three-day NGO Forum which precedes the official Commission session, they say they managed to sell the idea to participants and so we could expect a satisfactory turn out. In the end, our event attracts about 22 people but sadly the Commissioners are busy with other meetings, and in spite of this being in their backyard, none of them are able to attend.

Our event programme includes a panel discussion with representatives of African linguistic, ethnic and religious minorities. I am moved when linguistic minority reps talk of being forced to abandon their identities. Apparently they are ashamed to be identified with their community because it is considered inferior. In order to participate and be accepted in the economic, social and political aspects of local life they choose to speak the language of the neighbouring, more dominant tribe. With respect to religious minorities, the representative indicated that in the wake of terror threats and fears, more rigorous requirements have been put in place when Muslims apply for travel documents and applicants have even been denied travel permits because they are immediately assumed to be linked to terrorists. This is in Africa!

The main objective of the event is to give shape to the idea of an African minorities forum. However participants emphasize that in order for it to succeed, it would need the true support and ownership of all those for whom it was established, going beyond the African Commission project which convened it, which will be coming to an end soon.

Following the meeting, we learn some interesting information about Swaziland, which serves to emphasize the many facets of this country. You may know that Swaziland is famous for its strict adherence to culture and tradition. So it’s certainly a very fascinating revelation to learn that there is an adult-only establishment not too far from where we are staying. It certainly sparks a lot of curiosity in some to go see for themselves and verify the existence of said establishment. Details of just how far this curiosity went shall be withheld on the principle and agreement commonly understood among the group that what happens in Swaziland, stays in Swaziland!

Paile Chabane, MRG’s International Human Rights Officer for Africa, revisits the 43^rd session of the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights in Swaziland

Once again my work has flung me back to the Southern region of Africa that is home… in Swaziland this time, where the 43^rd Ordinary Session of the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights is being hosted. In fact, the tiny, beautiful, mountainous kingdom of Swaziland is a twin to my own country… the tiny, beautiful, mountainous kingdom of Lesotho, although if the truth were told the two countries are different in so many ways. In fact quite possibly the similarities end at the three adjectives I have referred to above: tiny, mountainous, kingdom. I often have to make the distinction between this kingdom and my own - Swazi culture is known for its colourful, controversial stories (such as the king and his many wives – our king has just the one!). And indeed the political and governance systems of the two states are very different. Returning to the subject of the monarchy - in Swaziland the king is the head of state as well as the government, while the king of Lesotho is a constitutional ceremonial monarch.

From a very young age I have visited Swaziland, mainly for family visits, since we have relatives here. But on this trip my presence here feels different… I have to figure things out on my own (and with the nine other colleagues and partners with whom I was attending the session as part of the MRG African Commission project). I have to interact with the place and the people beyond the orchestrated family occasions context. The funny thing is that it really feels like I am here for the very first time. In spite of the long intertwined history of the two countries (which together with Botswana have commonly come to be known in the region as Boleswa - Botswana, Lesotho and Swaziland), I have never really been able to wrap my mind around Swaziland. Every time I would think of Swaziland images of lots of trees, rain and dense mist at night would come to mind. Well, the trees are still here since Swaziland once had the biggest man made forest, but fortunately the rain and mist seem to have disappeared.

Anyway, here I am and it’s important to not lose sight of the reasons why I’m here this time. The first good news is that the hotel is quite nice… something which we have learned to not take for granted after a not so pleasant experience at the last session which still lingers fresh on one’s mind months later! Tomorrow there will be a side event which will try to advance the discussions from the seminar we had in March in Pretoria on minorities and minority rights in Africa (see previous blogs The show must go on and My work is done…). In particular, we will discuss a minorities’ forum in Africa, which was one of the recommendations of the seminar. We hope to launch the forum at the November session of the African Commission.

MRG has supported five project partners who were at the seminar to attend this session in order to undertake further lobbying, so in total we have a formidable team of 10 ready to take on the Commission.

Being the last one to arrive in Swaziland the first thing I need to do is find my partners… there seems to be no sign of them… how hard can it be to find at least one of the other 9 members of the group? Then I learn… they have gone to a barbeque…

Emma Eastwood, MRG’s Media Officer, wraps up her work in Budapest and is left with some food for thought

Apparently there was a reassuringly strong presence from the anti-racists yesterday afternoon at the demo – even former German chancellor Gerhard Schroeder showed his face, along with the Hungarian Prime Minister (who some here accuse of scoring political points from the whole affair). Maybe they feared a repeat performance from the extreme right, who went on the rampage a while back and ‘trashed the city’… I saw some photos of the riots later at a photo exhibition in the Hungarian National Museum, the Hungarian Guard, a right-wing group leading the movement, is sinister and of great concern, but frankly I must admit that I find the penchant of neo-Nazis for quasi-military uniforms and dodgy insignia both ridiculous and absurd.

Tracey, from Hungarian NGO Védegylet, paints a different picture of Slovenian society from the journalists I spoke to yesterday. She tells me that the Slovenian activists she’s met are some of the most inspiring and positive people in the region. On a different note she’s a fellow vegetarian and we have an ‘interesting’ discussion over lunch with Angela, an expert on rights and development from Brussels and Esther from the Uganda Land Alliance (who are both speakers at the event), defending the concept that animals have rights too.

Max Slimani

Max Slimani, from the Africa Centre in Slovenia, provides one of the most thought-provoking presentations of the seminar today. He provides us with examples of how in many countries in the EU stereotyping of Africans continues apace in children’s books and educational materials. Max is a commanding speaker and I can sense that he makes many of us squirm in our seats as we remember with a shudder the textbooks of our childhoods – despite the UK today having one of the most enlightened school curricula in the EU in terms of global education, Little Black Sambo and golliwogs were still around when I was a girl. MRG is well aware that these stereotypes entrench prejudice from an early age and has incorporated educational reform into its own campaign goals.

Talking of campaigning I’ve heard of some real creative and inspiring examples from many of the NGOs here. An old favourite of mine, Critical Mass, a global direct action movement of cyclists, attracted some 35, 000 people in its last incarnation in Budapest (although Tracey tells me that the crowds of cyclists aim to cause as little disruption as possible - quite the opposite of my own experience of actions in San Francisco and London). How they manage that with so many people beats me…

The seminar draws to a close this afternoon and I relish breaking out of the bubble of the last few days and the feel of the wind on my cheeks as I cross the Danube on Margaret Bridge. The truth is it’s been a privilege to meet so many people doing such diverse work in so many countries, which should certainly help when I’m churning out press releases back at my desk on Commercial Street.

Marusca Perazzi, MRG’s Programme Officer, takes the opportunity to visit an Ethiopian organisation working with marginalized women in Addis Ababa

By pure coincidence, I meet with Mr Mengist, the Director General of Welfare for Street Mothers and Children Organisation (WeSMCO), an NGO that carries out an impressive range of activities and essential community development work - the organisation promotes good-governance and democracy, focuses on conflict prevention measures in the northwest areas of the country bordering Sudan, concentrates on the empowerment of women and works to alleviate the socio-economic problems of marginalized and destitute communities in Ethiopia.

During our talk in a cafe on Meskel Square, Mr Mengist kindly offers to take me to WeSMCO’s office in the middle of Addis in a large community of 400 households that the organisation supports. I take the opportunity to visit the workshops, the classroom and the allotments where the community is growing vegetables on a large strip of land. I get to see the sewing machines that enable women in the community to support themselves by gaining skills that will allow them to find employment.

I am overwhelmed by the extremely well organised manner in which this organisation is run; the record keeping is simply astonishing given the large amount of work and diverse projects that WeSMCO carries out. Whilst discussing opportunities to work in partnership with MRG, the issue of funding inevitably comes up. In fact, despite the fact that WeSMCO projects are funded by various national and international donors, Mr Mengist points out that it is increasingly difficult to deliver projects on a 1-year funded basis as the timespan is too short to see a major impact on the ground for some of the programmes.

After spending the afternoon visiting the community’s households and allotments, it’s time to say goodbye. It was an unexpected but enlightening encounter, and splendid opportunity to appreciate the work that local NGOs are doing in the cities.

Marusca Perazzi, MRG’s Programmes Officer reports from a visit to minority organisations in Addis Ababa

It’s time to say goodbye to colourful and friendly South Africa to take off to Ethiopia. When I land in Addis Ababa; despite all the unexpected delays during the day, I reach my accommodation and am instantly reminded of the purpose of my travels - the building opposite my lodge is called the “Bahá’í Centre”.

In the first hours of the morning, Addis Ababa is rather quiet and offers a spectacular and breath-taking view of an upturned half moon. My initial thought is that this is yet another country in Africa which shows a different face, but I also wonder whether that’s really the case…

In fact, after a few hours the reality of what this city is really about starts surfacing more strongly. Traffic jams, pollution… luckily the gentle breeze that characterizes this city is accompanying me on my way to meeting Alawis Ahmed, Programme Manager of the MRG partner organisation Pastoralist Forum Ethiopia (PFE).

On the way to PFE’s office, it becomes obvious that the government is investing heavily in road construction and planning, but the people on the streets and the obvious levels of poverty and inequality are what really catch my attention. Yet, apparently, this is a rather fine quarter of the city where a number of embassies and international organisations are based.

PFE is currently working on a research project on Poverty Reduction Strategy Papers (PRSPs) processes with specific reference to pastoralists communities in Ethiopia. Mr Alawis and his colleagues are particularly welcoming and we discuss how the project is progressing on the ground and the kind of challenges that may be lying ahead. He complains of a lack of knowledge on the part of government officials about both PRSPs and the difficulties faced by pastoralist communities around the country on a daily basis. However, I am impressed by PFE’s strategies to promote the project and raise awareness around PRSPs and minorities.

Mr Alawis, a pastoralist himself, explains that it is very important to engage with the Ethiopian government to ensure its participation and give it the opportunity to address patterns of inequality that affect pastoralist communities.

Afterwards I visit the PFE community centre which offers a number of publications on subjects ranging from land issues, conflict prevention, indigenous peoples, governance, gender and human rights.

Later whilst on the balcony of my lodge, I see a group of women walking on the busy main road gesticulating wildly. To my surprise I realise that they are all waving at me and shouting “Good night sister! I love you.” I just manage to warn them in time to pass on the other side of the road as a big 4 x 4 almost hits them. Still waving at me, they cross the road and slowly disappear from sight; what a joy and genuine welcome to Ethiopia.

Paile Chabane, MRG’s International Human Rights Officer for Africa, reports from the final day of a landmark conference on minorities in Africa

This is the third and final day of the seminar (day two was lost in a blur of administration) and probably the most important as it is when practical ways to mainstream minority rights in the national policies and processes of African states will be discussed.

Presentations are made and the latter part of the day is for group work to give the participants an opportunity to come up with recommendations for how best this mainstreaming process could be done and by whom in the various countries in question.

For me the moment of triumph is when the Commissioner addresses the group at the end of the seminar and makes a commitment to take the issues back to her colleagues at the Commission, as she feels there are definite issues worthy of attention. What can I say…my work here is done…

All in all, I am very pleased with the way it turned out and the seminar report will inform all discussions we’ll be having with key actors in the promotion and protection of minority rights in Africa… However, this is just the beginning… the tough work is about to begin.

Paile Chabane, MRG’s International Human Rights Officer for Africa, reports from the first precarious day of a landmark conference on minorities in Africa

The good news is that most of the invited participants have arrived. However two will not be able to make it. Among them is a Ugandan Member of Parliament who is also Chair of the Equal Opportunities Committee. The more worrying news is that there is no sign of any of the invited members from the African Commission or the Chairperson of the South African Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Cultural, Religious and Linguistic Communities, who was to be the keynote speaker.

Already the seminar is starting to feel like it’s going downhill and I am extremely unsettled. But the show has to go on while our South African partner organization responsible for the seminar’s logistical arrangements makes follow up enquiries about the whereabouts of the missing participants. As it turns out, in the case of the Commissioners, one will arrive this evening, while the other one we can only assume will no longer be available to attend. As for the keynote speaker, we get word that he will be coming later on… apparently there had been a mix up with the dates.

And so the day’s programme gets underway with the opening ceremony, and proceeds to the substantive part while we wait for the keynote speaker to arrive, at which point we will pause the session and give him the platform to address the participants. Things start to feel a little better…

It is such a shame that the Commissioner was not present for the day’s proceedings because certainly it laid the foundations for the seminar as it explored terminologies, definitions, approaches for the promotion and protection of minority rights from other regions in the world, as well as the consequences of the failure to do so.

The highlight so far is definitely the panel discussion involving representatives of ethnic, religious and linguistic minorities in Africa. They give personal accounts of the challenges they face as a result of their status. This is counterbalanced by the response from the Ugandan MP who explains the efforts undertaken by the Equal Opportunities Committee to investigate the reports they get of violations of the rights of minority communities in Uganda. Apparently they are in the process of drafting a policy on minority rights protection, as it is provided for in the Ugandan Constitution. This gives the session a less abstract and theoretical feel.

The end of the day brings the ice-breaking reception/cocktail and the arrival of the Vice Chairperson of the African Commission so I can finally heave a sigh of relief.