Lessons learned in community spirit – a Moldovan visits Kenya

Victoria Apostol, of Promo-LEX Association from the Republic of Moldova, recently visited Kenya on a study exchange organized through MRG’s Global Advocacy Programme. Here she reports back on the minority communities she visited and the valuable lessons learned during her trip.

Learning from others could become a universally recognized solution for the problems faced by many minorities around the world. Exchanging thoughts, ideas, opinions, and even business cards, represents an important and necessary step in promoting and maintaining diversity in this modern world.

Not as simple as it sounds. But learning and exchanging are two processes which require attention, passion and good intentions. Over seven days, myself and four other friends from European organizations had the pleasure to be involved in such a process through a study visit to Kenya, organised by Minority Rights Group International.

Kenya is an amazing and interesting country from a social and cultural point of view; home to a rich diversity of minority communities, all trying to build a democratic country through involving themselves in promoting and protecting minority rights. Additionally, the new Kenyan constitution represents a myriad of new opportunities for the inclusion of the country’s citizens, and in particular for minorities.

Victoria visits Kenya

It all sounds good, however in practice to realise their rights provided for in the new Constitution minority communities need first of all to be involved in elections, not only as voters, but also as electoral candidates. In this sense, we were lucky enough to have the opportunity to observe and participate in preparatory meetings during our trip, which aimed to inform minority communities about their rights according to the new constitution, and how they should take part in the election process.

We visited three communities: Endorois, Ogiek and Maasai. Each of them is unique, but on the other hand, all of them are minorities and have common needs as such.

Endorois land was originally appropriated by the Kenyian government in the 1970s to create the Lake Bogoria National Reserve. The fact that they were evicted from their land affected their life-style and livelihood. Therefore, the main issue for this community is land rights. However, they try to improve their own situation through different socio-economic initiatives and are not waiting around for the state to help them. For example we visited an Endorois honey factory which has double importance for the community. On the one hand it is a source of employment, and on the other it provides an income for all 15 members of the community involved.

The Ogiek community, who live in the Mau forest, near to Nakuru, was the second place we visited. Ogiek are a traditional forest dwelling people, who were also driven from their homes by both the British colonial and Kenyan governments, in order to log the forests and make way for agricultural projects.

We visited two Ogiek schools, both of which are financially supported by parents who farm for a living, whilst most of the teachers work voluntarily. The school buildings are small and rudimentary, but this aspect doesn’t stop the children going to school. Education is of great importance for the Ogiek community, but still there are things which need to be improved. The schools do not have a proper libary, nor enough books, whilst space for school activities is limited.

Victoria with a Maasai woman

The Maasai from Magadi live in one of the hottest places in Kenya, meaning access to water is a real issue for them. This community is distant from any towns which also creates some difficulties in terms of access to health and other services. What struck me most about the visit to the Maasai was how the community endeavours to empower women through community-based activities. For example, women are organized as a distinct group, addressing issues concerning them directly. One of them was even appointed as a community leader, a major breakthrough in this male-dominated traditional culture, while the majority of women are no longer afraid to speak out about their problems.

All these things impressed me in a special way. I enjoyed discovering Kenya and learning from minorities what it means to work in a community; to share the spirit of collectivity; to find the power and strength to fight against cruel injustices; to be optimistic and to exercise democracy together by knowing our rights as minorities and claiming those rights.

The experience was incomparable for me. I realised how wrong it is to assume something about another culture before fully understanding it. Most of all the study visit brought to my attention the many things which we Europeans could learn from African communities, not least for instance how we should appreciate more the education we receive, despite the conditions under which we sometimes study.

I left Kenya wishing to be back as soon as possible to discover more about this country, and more importantly, it set my mind to thinking how I can do something concrete in support of its minority communities.

‘Don’t be vague, go to The Hague’

MRG’s Head of Programmes, Shobha Das, is in Nairobi helping to set up our new Somalia Gender Project. Along with what seems like the rest of the country’s electorate, she tuned into the first televised presidential debate ahead of Kenya’s hotly anticipated March 4 elections.

Kenya had its first televised presidential debate this evening and the whole country seemed to be watching; for over 3 hours…

An impromptu gathering of voters discusses the elections while shielding from the afternoon sun

It was an impressively organised event. All candidates got equal chances to speak, the moderators did a very competent job of maintaining the pace and flow, and they even managed a discussion about the International Criminal Court (ICC) indictments (Uhuru Kenyatta and his running mate William Ruto will face trial in The Hague in April for planning and funding the 2008 post-election violence) without any outbursts.

Kenyatta insisted he wasn’t going to change his mind about running for office. He said he was confident that if he won, the case would not ‘interrupt the business of government’. Raila Odinga asked wittily that he didn’t understand exactly how a country could be run by Skype from The Hague. He added that there had been such chaotic discussions leading up to the indictment that finally someone had thrown their hands in the air and said, ‘Don’t be vague, go to The Hague.’

Ironically, just as Kenyatta was getting heat for being indicted, Odinga was also getting the heat for NOT being indicted. Many seem to believe that he too was responsible directly, in some measure, for the deaths that resulted in the post-election violence. Neither of them rose to the occasion brilliantly, but Odinga seems to have come off a little better, going by Facebook postings, media sound bites, and the reactions in the bar I was sitting in.

Many foreign diplomats in Kenya are saying that if Kenyatta wins, it will affect the country’s relationship with the international community. Britain has echoed Obama’s statement that it’s not about who wins, but the process. However, in a slightly self-contradictory manner, the British envoy to Kenya said that it is the policy of Britain and other European countries not to have contact with ICC indictees. Kenyan officials have formally written to the EU to seek clarification of what exactly this means.

Some Kenyan NGOs have expressed fears about Kenyatta and Ruto contesting the elections. They argue that the country will be leaderless if the two have to head off to The Hague in April to face trial. There is a fear that the president may then defy the ICC, which will bring a whole different set of consequences.

There were many references in the debate by all candidates to the new constitution and the importance of implementing it fully and immediately. They all spoke of the need to make Kenya a country for all its citizens. Though there was some time spent on discussing the question of ethnicity and politics, this seemed mostly about ethnic voting patterns. All candidates said citizens should not vote by ethnicity of candidates, but their campaigns appear to be highly ethnicised. Almost everyone I’ve spoken to in Nairobi has said they will vote according to ethnicity.

The loudspeakers on this campaign van blare political messages to the streets

The debate on ethnicity turned for a moment to the question of inequality. One candidate, Martha Karua, addressed this but not in a very positive way. Her position was that there were poor in every community and that there were no structural or systemic connections between ethnicity and marginalisation. Karua is the only woman candidate and while many women I spoke to said she would be good for the country, they said they’d nevertheless vote for someone from their own community; partly because they felt Karua has no chance of winning, but also because they said that was what was ‘expected’ of them.

The issue of corruption came up in the debate but apart from the predictable platitudes on how it should be rooted out, nothing substantive emerged. People on the street were, in conversation with me, comparing candidates for their levels of corruption to decide whom to vote for if they were undecided. One was 50% corrupt, but the other was only 25% corrupt. One had grabbed a lot of land to make his millions, the other had grabbed only a little land and made fewer millions. So the one with less corruption and land-grabbing would get their vote (usually if they were of the right ethnicity).

Sadly, very little direct reference was made to minorities or indigenous peoples in the debate. Resource-based conflicts were mentioned a few times, and one candidate seemed interested in giving pastoralists better access to water and grazing land – that was as close as it got to the issues MRG is working on in Kenya.

There will be a second debate in 2 weeks, perhaps minority issues and land rights will feature more in that. MRG will be following the situation closely. In the meantime why not check out our most recent publication on the upcoming elections: Taking diversity seriously: minorities and political participation in Kenya.

Part 2 – Maasai women speak up of abuse and violence

MRG’s media officer Farah Mihlar shares her stories from the sidelines of a media training for community activists in Nairobi, Kenya. Read part 1 here.

Part 2

Yes, they did make it on time, but Stella overslept. The poor thing was completely embarrassed as she came down to a few grumpy stares, though just 30 minutes late. Our trip was to Mara to visit Maasai communities. Joining us was Jedrzej, a journalist working for Polish political weekly magazine, Polityka. His visit is part of an MRG project to increase awareness of issues on minority and indigenous communities in the EU new member states.

Despite coming in earlier than the two party animals, I was knocked out and fell asleep through the early part of the journey, only to be woken to Jedrzej clicking his camera to some of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen. We were driving on a road nestled in between towering mountains. Narok town is a little less than 3 hours from Nairobi.

Our master guide Kedoki and the ever entertaining Eunice, both colleagues of Esmael and Stella, join us as we make our way to Mara. We are stocked with peanuts, water bottles and Esmael’s great idea of Kenyan ice cream. The drive to Mara is arduous and long, the road is in a terrible condition but the company is excellent. We talk about life, kids, romance. When we finally get to Mara, we are stopped at the gate to the wildlife reserve, and asked to buy tickets. While we are swamped by women selling beaded chains and wooden carvings, only Kedoki’s masterful negotiations and contacts within the community get us in. At the entrance to the village we visit, young Maasai men, in colourful robes, welcome us. They sing and dance to a traditional welcome song, whilst Esmael and Jedrzej have to join in.

We are later taken on a tour of the village. We meet women making beaded ornaments, and they show us their hunting tools and how to start a fire. Much of the tour is touristic and it is clear that the villages in Mara have had to adapt themselves to the increasing numbers of tourists visiting the game reserve. I try to avoid the tour guide, and speak to the elders and women about the difficulties they face. The elders explain that they have very limited access to health facilities and schools. They have to walk miles to get to the main road and hope a passing vehicle stops to take a sick person to hospital. ‘We get nothing from the government. You saw the road you came on, they can’t even build the road,’ they say. The Kenyan government earns millions of dollars from tourism, Maasai Mara being one of the most visited places.  It is getting dark and we have to leave to get out of the reserve before it is too late.

I crash into bed, in the guest house room, and watch the Kenyan version of X Factor. The talent was amazing, several Whitney Houston’s and Mariah Carey’s in the making. Just as I was beginning to warm up to the Simon Cowell equivalent on the judging panel  there was a power cut!

I am woken on Sunday morning by the call to prayer from the Narok mosque, and again a few hours later by an array of different church sessions. There are several evangelical groups that practice in Narok. All have their own choirs and sermons that are played out on loudspeakers.

On Sunday, we visit another village closer to Narok. Miriam has helped organise this. Pauline Kinyarkoo, who works with Miriam and is a local councilor, takes us around.  Pauline is a larger-than-life character; she is full of life and energy, kindness and love. We first stop to pick up Mary, a peer advisor to the village we are visiting. It is Sunday so she is at a service in the makeshift little church by her house. Little kids sing and dance the praises of Jesus.

Pauline Kinyarkoo, a woman Maasai activist and councilor, addresses elders in the community

As we enter the village, Pauline first introduces us to the elders. In African tribal culture elders have a very important role to play, respecting them and seeking their approval is a must. After interviewing the elders, Pauline gathers the women in the village so I can speak to them about gender issues in the community. We go and sit under a tree outside the village fence, surrounded by the vast, beautiful terrain of dusty land stretching miles before reaching the mountains.

The women take time, but slowly start talking about the difficulties in their lives. Maasai women, like most pastoralist women, are discriminated against and ill treated on all fronts. They suffer discrimination by people from other communities, those who live in the towns, who look at them as backward, ignorant and dirty. They have no place in their own community, and are oppressed through various cultural practices, including child marriage, polygamy and female genital mutilation. They open up, with their stories, their pain, both physical and emotional. I am touched by their willingness to share these intimate, painful experiences. I ask if I can write about them – they tell me to take their stories to the world.

Maasai women in Kenya

On our return we stop at Mary’s home for a cup of tea. She has six lovely children, I ask if I can take her smallest.  The little fellow cringes behind her as she teases to send him with me. We have to leave as it is getting late and I need to return to Nairobi.

I leave Kenya with many wonderful memories, the beautiful landscape, the music and rhythm, the spicy food and the diversity and different stories from each community. But what I will never forget is the tremendous courage and strength of all of the women I met, in Nairobi, Narok, and Mara, who fight tirelessly everyday to give their young girls a better life.

• View a gallery with additional images from Farah’s trip to Mara – part of the Minority Voices Newsroom

Part 1 – Training, interviewing, community visits and clubbing – all in a week’s work.

MRG’s media officer Farah Mihlar shares her stories from the sidelines of a media training for community activists in Nairobi, Kenya.

Part 1

I think in my previous life I must have been born to an indigenous community in Africa. I have been just twice, to Uganda and Kenya, but on both times I have had an instant connection.  Like in my last trip to Kampala, this time too, in Nairobi, I was there for a regional training for community activists on how to use the media. The training was, as always, intense and interesting, but I want to share here some of my experiences outside of the class room.

The first lesson on African culture came even before the training started. I reached Nairobi over the weekend and on the Sunday decided to go to a popular coffee place to check e-mails and prepare my presentations (I know it’s sad – I do on occasion work on weekends!!). While waiting for a hot chocolate that took forever and trying to reply to e-mails, I struck up a conversation with a Kenyan, Indian-Muslim girl seated beside me. Shortly, I was introduced to a male friend of hers and we got chatting about Islamic practices and cultures…the conversation led to being asked out for dinner…followed by two text messages and one call (in a matter of hours)….followed by me completely freaking out!

Perhaps it was being in a new country as a woman alone, or possibly just having got used to the London dating culture, where this sort of thing would happen only when the guy is properly drunk.  I was only calmed by a sweet brotherly lecture from my colleague Mohamed. I decided to solicit his advice and to keep him informed – just in case. I can still picture Muhammad scowling at me, gesturing wildly ‘This is normal in Africa, this is our culture, what is wrong with the men in London’ (I’d like the answer to that too!). Calm down Farah,’ he says, ‘remember we are hunters, we go behind people.’ Great consolation Mohamed, I have now turned into a prey animal. That works well for the feminist in me!

During the course of the week the training was far too demanding to be distracted by anything. My role was to help activists think like journalists – spot the good story, know how to tell it but also to be sensitive and get their point across effectively. We practiced through case studies which the different teams came up with, such as low level violent conflicts amongst pastoralists and tension in South Sudan ahead of the referendum.

Participants learn to operate a camera at the training

Days two and three were run by the illustrious Lee Kanyare, who together with his assistants Christine and Njoroge,  brought the world of filmmaking and audio/video editing alive. We watched movies till late in the evening about different communities in Africa, and participants made their own short films interviewing each other on the issues they worked on.  The last day was learning to create websites, which was conducted by Carson, who is himself from the indigenous Endorois community. Most of the participants were from Kenya, from several different communities, including Maasai, Ogiek, fisher communities and Endorois. There were two participants from Southern Sudan.

As media officer, I had a dual role to play.  One was to train and the second was to gather content for MRG’s new Minority Voices Newsroom.  This meant lunches and dinners were spent chatting to people learning about their lives, the issues they work on, and grabbing them during coffee breaks to do quick interviews.  I learnt fascinating stories from Anne, Miriam and Maryam, about Maasai cultural practices that affect women and girls. Cherono, the first university graduate from the hunter gatherer Ogiek community, talked of the many obstacles she had to go through to get her qualification. Kipkazi and Evans always kept our spirits up telling us how the Endorois were trying to reap the benefits of the success of a recent land rights case. Paul kept the focus on South Sudan without letting the Kenyans steal the limelight. Dalmas knew just about everything on minorities in Kenya.

Participants at the media training in Kenya

Despite the tight schedule, I did however manage to cram in two other interesting activities. The first was to visit the Nubians, a small minority community in Kibera, Nairobi’s slum area. The Nubians trace their history to pre-biblical times. They moved across Egypt to Sudan, where the small numbers who live in Kenya originated from. Despite having lived in Kenya for centuries, even before colonial rule, the Nubians lack proper recognition, have no legal ownership of their lands and struggle with poverty and unemployment.

The second activity was more exciting than interesting. I managed to squeeze in 30 minutes of proper African clubbing with my friends Stella and Esmael, who were also participants. Stella is originally Maasai, living in Narok and working on gender rights and Esmael is Somali Kenyan working on sexual rights and HIV prevention. Unfortunately I don’t have a bone of rhythm in me,  certainly not compared to Kenyans.  I would have loved to stay longer but I had to wake up at 6 am to leave for a community visit. Stella and Esmael were supposed to be our guides, they promised to leave in time to make it by six. If you want to know if that happened you will need to read part 2.

Oh, and if you are wondering if I ever went on the date…well I’ll leave that to your imagination!

• Read part 2 of Farah’s blog post from Kenya!

Part 2 – “We have become squatters in our own home.”

In the second part of his 2-part blog, Carl Soderbergh reflects on a land rights issue which is confronting Maasai in Loliondo District of northern Tanzania. See Part 1 here.

While the Maasai whom Lucy and I met in Loliondo are not directly affected by what is happening to those living in the Ngorogoro Conservation Area, they follow it with concern. More particularly, they have their own land problems.

This was most vividly described to us by Sandet Reiya, elder of Mondorosi sub-village. Mondorosi lies to one side of a valley, the sides of which are dotted with several other smaller sub-villages. In the middle of the valley is a large stretch of mixed savannah and forest. The seasonal Pololet river flows through the valley. When Lucy and I arrived in Mondorosi, there were easily 150 men and women waiting to talk to us about their problems. We sat around an acacia tree and gazed out over the valley unfurled below us. In the far distance, I could see the silhouettes of giraffes loping across open ground.

Sandet Reiya

Sandet looked out over the valley. He waved his staff across the expanse and said bitterly, “It is very simple. A person is welcomed into a house and is entertained by the owner. Instead of just visiting, the person occupies all of the place and the owner becomes a refugee… We have become squatters in our own home.”

The placement of the sub-villages follows Maasai traditional good husbandry practices – their communities are built away from the open areas in order to reserve the best land for their cattle.

This practice was drastically curtailed in 2006 following the purchase of over 12,000 acres across the middle of the valley by Tanzania Conservation Limited (TCL), a company linked to the American tour operator Thomson Safaris. TCL bought the land from the state-owned Tanzanian Breweries Ltd. (TBL). TBL’s title dated from the 1980’s but had been disputed by the local communities, who complain of improprieties at the time of the sale. In particular, there are questions concerning whether the Maasai who signed the sale agreement with TBL really had the authority to do so. The communities lost their claim in court and were sadly too impoverished to keep travelling to Arusha in order to follow up the case, missing their opportunity to appeal. At any rate, TBL only cultivated 700 acres and did not establish possession over the rest of the land, so the Maasai of the area continued to graze their livestock on the stretches of savannah above Pololet river.

While questions remain regarding TBL’s title, a further issue is whether the open stretch of land in the middle of the valley was TBL’s to sell and TCL’s to buy. It may largely be open ground, but it was not unoccupied. The fact that there are wild animals there to look at is not an accident. It is very much due to the Maasai communal approach to land as well as their traditional respect towards wildlife. In short, the valley was not Terra nullius.

View over Maasai bomas and towards the disputed land

When Thomson moved in, they sought to create a wildlife sanctuary on the property. Villagers state that Thomson security guards used force to evict Maasai caught grazing on the land. Bomas, the thorn-bush cattle pens typical of Maasai settlements, were reportedly burnt down, and men and boys caught herding livestock on the property are alleged to have been beaten and taken to the police.

One clear sign of the violence was the fact that when we drove between communities on the access roads that run along the edges of property, the boys herding goats or cattle would run and hide when they saw us coming. Everywhere else, the young goat-herders would stand alongside the track, waving and laughing as we drove by.

While Thomson dispute the accounts, Lucy and I met two victims, as well as many others who described helping those who had been beaten. One of the victims is David, a man in his twenties whom we met in Mondorosi.[1] He described being caught near Pololet river in 2007. Six Thomson security guards ordered him to get into their vehicle. When David refused, the security guards kicked him and beat him with sticks. David was pushed to the ground; one man sat on his chest and held him by his throat. The beating lasted an hour, David said. He rolled up his trouser legs and showed us the scars. David was taken to the police station in Loliondo, where he was held for 24 hours. He did not receive food, water or any medical help. He was released after the community raised 100,000 Tanzanian shillings.

The involvement of the police appears to form a pattern and explains why the victims have not dared to bring charges against their assailants. Another Maasai was shot in the jaw in 2008, when he and nine others demonstrated on the property; police arrived and started shooting when the group refused to disperse.

At each of the meetings, Lucy and I asked the women who were present how they viewed the situation. I was struck by the response we got from the women of Sukenya sub-village, who otherwise praised Thomson for the income-generating scheme it had introduced – namely a market for handicrafts to which it brings its visitors. These women are presumably benefitting from Thomson’s presence. And yet they also emphasized that access to land is a gender issue, since it affects their families. It is their children who are being beaten, they said.

PWC Women’s Choir

On our final day, Lucy and I were invited to the PWC women’s choir graduation ceremony. The songs were beautiful, and some of the women began crying while they were singing. One of the songs was about the land issue. With tears streaming down her face, the chairwoman of the choir stepped forward and pointed towards the children sitting off to one side. She said that their children are being beaten and some are getting lost in the bush as they run away.

Maanda Ngoitiko

Lucy and I met with Thomson representatives on the last day of our visit to Tanzania. They expressed an interest in a mediated solution. We welcomed this, given the strong emotions the situation arouses. Indeed, Maanda Ngoitiko, Coordinator of PWC, put it simply. She said,  “Since Thomson came, I have had no peace of mind.” At the same time, the Thomson representatives vigorously denied all accusations of violence, saying  variously that it had only occurred during the days of TBL, that it had been exaggerated because of the political ambitions of local NGOs, and that it was due to inter-clan rivalries – something that we as foreigners could not comprehend during such a short visit.

In my mind, though, none of Thomson’s arguments explains why those little boys ran away and hid in the brush, leaving their goats and cattle untended, whenever they saw us coming in our 4-wheel drive vehicle. And when we parted company, I wondered what Thomson’s customers would make of the fact that their very presence strikes terror in the heart of young boys.

• See also: Condé Nast Traveler‘s recent article “Last days of the Masai?“

Notes

1. David’s name has been changed to protect his identity.

Part 1 – Terra nullius

Carl Soderbergh, MRG’s Director of Policy and Communications, posts a 2-part blog on the issues confronting Maasai communities in the Serengeti and Ngorogoro regions of Tanzania. In the first part, he considers the fact that Maasai have faced repeated evictions over the past several decades.

Terra nullius is a Latin expression used in ancient Roman law meaning “empty land” or “land belonging to no one”. The doctrine permitted title to be claimed to land through occupation. It was repeatedly applied by European empires to justify the seizing of land in the Americas, in Oceania and in Africa. Essentially, European governments turned a blind eye to indigenous land ownership when applying the doctrine. In part, this was because the often communal land use of indigenous peoples do not follow the same patterns of land ownership as in Europe. Mostly, the doctrine was a convenient excuse for the colonisation of whole continents.

I reflected often on the doctrine of Terra nullius during a recent trip to Tanzania. I was travelling with my colleague, MRG’s head of law, Lucy Claridge. We went there in order to study the situation of Maasai in Loliondo district, a hilly area abutting the Serengeti National Park to the west and the Kenyan border to the north. To the south and east rise the airy highlands around the Ngorogoro Crater. We travelled with friends from the Pastoralist Women’s Council (PWC), an MRG partner organisation which works to support Maasai women in several villages in the area.

In principle, Terra nullius has been repudiated in international law through a series of decisions by national courts and regional tribunals recognising indigenous land claims. The African Union’s decision in the Endorois case concerning Kenya is one of the most recent. Sadly, though, Terra nullius has not been buried with the passing of the European empires but rather lives on in new ways, not least in the blindness outsiders have to traditional patterns of relating to the land.

Lucy and I participated in several large village gatherings in the area. Every speaker was given the time to speak for as long as he or she chose. At each meeting, we asked those gathered what their major concerns were – an open question, since we were there to hear how best MRG could support the communities via PWC. The participants would first discuss among themselves what topics they as a group should prioritise. The meetings could take over five hours, but the gatherings seemed to be as much about the conversations as the results achieved.

In every single meeting, the participants agreed about what was foremost on their minds – land. Access to land is a vital issue for Maasai, given the very central place reserved in their culture for their livestock and the inherent vulnerability of pastoralism to periods of drought when access to secure water sources is quite literally a matter of life or death.

The Maasai of northern Tanzania have a particularly sad history when it comes to land rights.  In 1959, ten thousand Maasai were displaced from the Serengeti by the British colonial administration in order to create a vast wildlife sanctuary. In exchange, the British established the neighbouring Ngorogoro Conservation Area centred on the crater of the same name; Maasai were permitted to graze their livestock alongside the wild animals there. Sixteen years later, the Maasai who had settled in Ngorogoro were told by the Tanzanian government that they had to leave the crater floor for the sake of the wildlife. Over time and to become more resilient during droughts, Maasai families took to cultivating small plots of land on its slopes. And now, the government is telling those who farm on the rim of the crater and in the highlands around it that they must stop doing so or risk arrest. The government has started to relocate thousands of Maasai out of the Conservation Area.

Ngorogoro Crater, Tanzania

In all our conversations with Maasai communities, I got a strong sense of how helpless Maasai feel in the face of these relocations as well as foreign investors coming in and encroaching on their traditional pastorage. Soitsambu Ward women’s chair Mairetwai Nguya expressed this movingly: “We are living like in a house with no doors. Like people without air to breathe… There is no serious action [on our behalf].” Nguya had even participated in a Maasai delegation that visited the Tanzanian parliament. Commenting on their attempts to seek support from the government, she added, “We must be wrong in their eyes. Why don’t they answer?”

Mairetwai Nguya

One can see a new form of Terra nullius in the general lack of respect towards Maasai land use. According to Alais Ole Morindat, Coordinator of Kimange DSC and an adviser to PWC, the combination of modern land tenure legislation plus repeated evictions are “breaking up specific principles of being and belonging”, namely as represented by centuries-old Maasai communal land use.

The belief appears to be that if Maasai do not establish a clear title to the land, through building permanent homes and other amenities, they do not have the right to remain. This happened when the British established Serengeti National Park. However, as Carol Sorensen, a respected expert at the Tanzania Natural Resource Forum, explained to us, the Serengeti is “not a wild but a cultural landscape”. Pastoralist Maasai have been there a very long time, and according to her, the open landscape is at least in part a result of the grazing of their livestock. Another natural resources expert, Fred Nelson, told Lucy and me when we got back to Arusha that the Maasai are not really nomadic. Their movement across the land is “rubber-banding”, whereby “claims to resources become vested and overlapping at certain times of the year.” A problem now, Fred added, is that Maasai have to range such long distances as “acts of desperation, since the land is so fragmented”.

In Loliondo, one of the Maasai women whom we met said, “We are not even equal to wildlife. The government values wildlife more than human beings.” Given what is going on, who can blame her for saying so?

• Read Part 2 of Carl’s blog post on the Maasai in Tanzania…

Part 2 of 2: Apparently all Africans originate from Ethiopia – new discovery at MRG media training

Read Part 1: Team blogging – part of the media training in sunny Kampala

Farah Mihlar

We are championing on. I am still typing away as the 18 participants attending MRG’s Kampala media training add their comments to a blog we are attempting to write jointly. All of the activists represented at this training work with minority communities in some of the harshest political and socio-economic climates. They are almost always excluded and often discriminated against.

‘The Batwa are the first people in the Congo but the last in getting resources from the government,’ says Tuteene, who works with Batwa ‘pygmies’ in north Kivu, in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Tuteene wears the most colourful suits (today he is in orange) and has helped brighten up each of our sessions. The activists working with Batwa, in DRC and Uganda, have explained through the course of the training, how this community is marginalized and discriminated against. They face high levels of poverty and illiteracy and are stigmatized in society because of their specific physical characteristics, Peninah, explains. Peninah like Timothy also works with Batwa in Uganda.

‘The drought is so alarming and exceptional, it is having adverse effects on the livelihood of people and is causing starvation,’ Albert says. Many of the pastoralist activists have referred to the manner in which these groups of cow herders are struggling because of the prolonged drought and also due to the effects of climate change.

Mitiku, who works with pastoralists in Ethiopia highlights some of the challenges the participants may face in advocating their problems. ‘Even though we got this technical knowledge, it will be very hard and challenging to do advocacy and lobbying on the issues affecting our community,’ he says.

Whilst the training was specifically on how to use the media to promote issues affecting different communities, the bringing together of various different people, from different communities, helped to sensitise all of us, allowing the group to understand problems faced by minorities all across Africa. Many of the participants, mainly through the cultural evening, made new discoveries.

Apparently all Africans originate from Ethiopia. ‘How come no one knew this?’ I ask. ‘Some of us learnt it for the first time,’ says Joanna. I must clarify: this did not transpire based on any proper research. It just became apparent, as each activist referred to their origins that almost all of the communities represented at the training had originated from Ethiopia.

‘I didn’t know that Iteso are sons of the Karamojong,’ says Timothy. This is in reference to Albert’s historical portrayal of how the people of Karamoja and Teso came into being. The Teso, according to Albert, are a break-away group of the same set of pastoralists who moved to Karamoja. Both communities are in conflict over land and other resources in the region. ‘I think we just became stubborn and went away with the cows and never went back,’ laughs Ben, who is from Teso.

Samuel presents at a mock press conference

Samuel, who works with a Ugandan pastoralist community, says he was surprised to learn the different types of pet-names Banyoro people give each other. Drake, who is from Uganda’s Banyoro tribe, revealed to us how each person in the community has a pet-name, in addition to their real name. He has kindly named me Amooti, meaning flower (I really am not one). All of us picked up a few different ways to greet each other, the most popular was how the Karamojong do it.

‘Maata Angaatuk’ (I greet you in the name of cows, goats and all livestock), shouts Albert.

‘Maata’ we reply, in unison.

The participants also learnt about their own and others hidden talents. Samuel, for instance, discovered he is an exceptional cameraman, while Drake can easily start a career as a narrator (we hope he doesn’t give up his work with pastoralists).

Michael, the newfound reporter who apparently works for MRG TV (we don’t really have one, it was just a part of the video activity), says, team-building was good in the way we tapped into people’s professional skills. All of us had different skills. Penninah was very confident in responding to questions in the interviews and Albert was good in creating captions.

One of the most unique aspects of this training was that, whilst the entire team worked intensely for long hours throughout the day, no one was short of energy to party through the night. As we shift our focus to how much fun the group had, Sandra is unanimously asked to comment. Sandra is a local and took on a leadership role in pointing the rest of the participants to the ‘must visit’ night venues in Kampala. ‘This was not enough fun for me,’ she says laughingly… ‘Especially when we went out to my favourite hangout and the guys slept,’ she adds. This did happen. On the second evening, when we went out to a fancy bar (Sandra’s favourite), the girls all ganged up and chatted and the men looked bored to death. Some did go off to sleep. ‘It is not a human rights violation to sleep,’ quips Tuteene (no giving away who fell asleep!).

According to Albert on most nights they had so much fun they had to take a vote to decide the time to leave. I have to confess that I didn’t have enough energy to keep up with the continuous partying so wasn’t a part of these exceptionally fun nights. Faith, our Zimbabwean participant, who has unlimited energy to party, says the training was always ‘happening,’ but she insists the term has to be pronounced with a Nigerian accent (hapnin) to give it added kick.

Despite the fun, the participants re-emphasise how important the training has been for them. Drake sums up for us, ‘We have been having a barrier on how we can get our issues through to the international community, we buried our head in trying to find an answer. But this training has helped us to get an idea of how we can do this.’

Contributors

• Agnes Ingwu, Abanbeke Development Association, Obudu City – Nigeria.
• Albert Lokoru, Karamoja Agro-Pastoral Development Programme (KADP), Karamoja – Uganda.
• Drake Nyamugabwa, Masindi Pastoralist Group, Masindi – Uganda.
• Faith Nzilani Musinga, Centre of Minority Rights and Development, Harare – Zimbabwe.
• Mohamed Matovu, MRG Regional Information Officer, Kampala – Uganda.
• Mohamed Mukhtar, Media and Rights Somaliland, Hargeisa – Somaliland.
• Mitiku Tiksa, SOS Sahel Ethiopia, Addis Ababa – Ethiopia.
• Mugabe Herbat Joram, Pastoralist Women to Break Cultural Chains, Kiboga District – Uganda.
• Niwagaba Joan, Mbarara Development Agency, Mbarara – Uganda.
• Omunga Benjamin, Katakwi Urafiki Foundation, Katakwi District – Uganda.
• Peninah Zaninka, United Organisation for Batwa Development, Kampala – Uganda. Rahel Negussie, Pastoralist Forum Ethiopia, Addis Ababa – Ethiopia.
• Sandra Nassali, UgaBYTES Initiatives, Kabalagala – Uganda. Samuel Kaweesi, Nakasongora Pastoralists Association, Nakasongora – Uganda.
• Tuteene Kusimweray, Action pour la Promotion des Droits de Minorites Autochtones en Afrique Centrale, Bukavu – D.R.C. Thomas Kiptiony Chepsoi, Endorois Welfare Council, Nakuru Town – Kenya.
• Mpalanyi Michael, Uganda Land Alliance, Kampala District – Uganda.

Cutting a shine on the Endorois dancefloor

Emma Eastwood, MRG’s Trouble in Paradise Campaign Manager, rounds off her trip to the Rift Valley discussing Obama ‘the Kenyan wonder boy’ and struts her stuff dancing with the Endorois. Sign our petition to pressure the Kenyan government to guarantee the Endorois community’s traditional way of life.

Today we take yet another bone-shaking ride up a poor excuse for a road to the Mochongoi Forest, which at around 2500m affords us views of the entire Endorois territory, bordered by dark hills swathed in rain clouds on the horizon.

The forest (which represents about one tenth of their land) is as crucial to the Endorois as the land surrounding Lake Bogoria. In the old days during the dry season the community would migrate up here with their cattle to the plentiful pastures – that was until the government gazetted the Forest in the 1970s, depriving them of yet more of their ancestral homelands.

To an outsider it would seem that the Endorois have plenty of space – only 60, 000 people scattered over a huge area, encompassing dry lowland plains dotted with irrigated maize fields and this highland plateau covered with lush grasslands and conifer groves. Playing devil’s advocate I point this out to Kipkazi, but he’s quick to remind me that the crux of the matter lies in the community’s lack of collective title to any of this land – they live daily with the possibility of being kicked out of their homes at any minute (in much the same way as they were from Lake Bogoria in the 1970s).

High up on the plateau we meet the volunteers who run the Human Rights Office, a humble wooden hut festooned with last year’s Christmas decorations and calendars portraying Obama ‘the Kenyan wonder boy’. Politics – everyone we’ve met so far is obsessed with the subject – the only words in Swahili I can ever make out are Obama, Raila, Kbaki and Obama and more Obama.

The main topic of discussion revolves around whether the presidential candidate will bring about change for Kenyans – so many people are pinning so much hope on this one man. Incidentally in Nairobi we found out that Obama’s father’s family are from the indigenous fisher folk community of the northern shores of Lake Victoria, a group MRG recently featured in our briefing on Kenya.

Paul Chepsoi, the Human Rights Office Chairman, looking incongruously smart in the rural surroundings in his suit and tie, takes us through the history of the dispossession of the Endorois from the Mochongoi Forest (and their continued struggle for the return of their lands). He accompanies us on a tour of the area, which is dotted with traditional mud huts (and some newer dwellings made entirely from zinc sheets, which, although easier to maintain, must become ovens in these temperatures during the day).

We meet the Endorois elders from one of the villages who tell us of how they are forced to graze their cattle on barren lands whilst outsiders have been allowed to settle on more fertile plots.

Volunteers at the Mochongoi Forest Human Rights Office

My education in pastoralist culture continues…I’m told that back in the day an Endorois girl’s family would have received ten cows for her hand in marriage, but nowadays she’s worth only four. My companion Neil wonders whether that’s deflation in the value of girls or inflation in the value of cows…Kipkazi says he would have been a rich man in the old days – he has four daughters!

Later that afternoon our visit to the Endorois community is rounded off by a show of traditional song and dance in a shady clearing backed by an enormous termite mound. After a welcome dance we were shown to a gnarled log and seated to enjoy the show – which features songs about the importance of Lake Bogoria and the community’s hopes for the return of their homeland. I am embarrassingly moved to tears by the spectacle and am thankful for my overlarge sunglasses and the distraction of trying to film and record the proceedings (and keep my dignity when obliged to strut my stuff on the dancefloor…)

Endorois traditional dance

We finish off the afternoon by giving impromptu speeches which we hope in some small way can communicate how, with the support of people like you, the Trouble in Paradise campaign can bring about real change for this resilient and courageous community whose traditional culture and livelihood is under threat.

The road to Lake Bogoria is littered with…..goats, sheep and cows…

Emma Eastwood, Trouble in Paradise Campaign manager is in Kenya to visit the Endorois community. After travelling through the mighty Rift Valley, she ends up in the Lake Bogoria National Reserve – the Endorois ancestral land from which they have been expelled. Read Emma’s blog and sign up to our online petition.

Women in colourful headscarves, children without shoes, men pulling impossible loads taking the place of the donkey they can’t afford, alpine highland scenery and suddenly, on the road about 50km north of Nairobi, the Rift Valley falls away as far as the eye can see below us. Kipkazi, from the Endorois Welfare Council, who is acting as our guide for this trip, Neil, MRG Programmes Assistant, and I, marvel at the view of hazy, distant lakes, extinct volcanic craters and dry flat plains which stretch away to the horizon.

View of the Rift Valley

We see zebras grazing on the outskirts of Naivasha and baboons dodging traffic with tiny babies hanging off their backs. I can’t resist the temptation to text home ( O praise the African obsession with mobile phones) I seem to have a network in even the most remote spots. I receive a reply – London is grey and workmen are drilling concrete on the building site next door…

The Endorois are semi-nomadic pastoralists, people who earn their livelihood through the rearing of livestock. Some say that pastoralists occupy over 70% of the land in Kenya, and this is borne out by what we see on our road trip from Nairobi to Lake Bogoria. As we travel northwards we see hundreds of goats, sheep and cows grazing on sparse patches of grass by the roadside. On entering Endorois territory, just north of the Equator, the animals disregard traffic rules altogether and wander absent-mindedly all over the road, forcing our Kenyan driver John, who seems very used to this behaviour, to respectfully manoeuvre at a crawling pace around the distracted beasts.

Endorois man herding his cows

You wouldn’t want to injure one; these animals are of an almost sacred importance to pastoralist communities and according to Kipkazi a fully-grown cow can fetch around 35, 000 Ksh (about US$500). As Dr Wako, Chairman of the Regional Elders Council, an MRG-backed forum of pastoralist leaders from Ethiopia, Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda, said to me last week at MRG’s African Commission seminar in Kampala, “For pastoralists, sheep and goats are like a current account, they provide us with ready cash, whilst cattle and camels are a savings account, they provide for our future and our children’s future.”

After five hours of driving we reach Lake Bogoria National Reserve, a game park created in 1973 by the Kenyan government, the object of the Endorois’ struggle. The Endorois were evicted from their ancestral lands to make way for the Reserve, depriving them not only of prime pasture for cattle and goats during the harsh dry season but also of sites important for cultural activities such as naming or initiation ceremonies and the only available salt licks for cows in the area. MRG’s Trouble in Paradise campaign is aimed at helping the Endorois get redress for the loss of their lands.

Entrance to Lake Bogoria National Reserve

As we drive around the lake as the sun begins to set behind the dark escarpment overlooking the Reserve, we see the pink blur of thousands of flamingos gathering by the water’s edge, zebras and warthogs, gazelles, impalas, ostriches and giant tortoises – a veritable wildlife haven and overwhelmingly beautiful. Yet somehow it all seems too empty – there are no humans. Unlike elsewhere, there are no small boys tending their flocks of sheep, or herds of cows here. My appreciation of the wildlife and scenery is tinged by sadness.

Flamingos on the shores of Lake Bogoria

Despite being originally promised 25% of revenue from the Reserve and 80% of the jobs in the park – today only a handful of Endorois work as wardens and the community only began to receive a paltry 4% of money raised at the gates in 2006 (33 years after the creation of the Reserve). Improved roads were also promised by the government when they gazetted the land for the park in 1973. Yet those roads have never materialised – even the road through the Reserve is a match for our 4 wheel drive.

Kipkazi is visibly excited by being back in his homeland – as he reminisces about the fertile grazing and plentiful fresh water supply in the area I picture how it must have been in those happier, more prosperous times.

He points out the hot springs and geysers representing sacred sites for the Endorois, which, together with the flamingos, are one of the main reasons tourists now visit the park. He says that legend has it that ghosts inhabit the geysers and call out your name, enticing you into the afterlife – community elders used to offer tobacco and milk in the old days to appease the spirits. When he was a boy it was forbidden to even mention someone’s name when you were near this place, in case that person was taken away by the ghosts.

We press on and visit other traditional sites. Many of the Endorois’ ancestors are buried around the park – the community would normally come and visit their graves for children’s naming ceremonies, but are now prevented from doing so by the authorities. At the southern, isolated end of the lake Kipkazi shows us the place where young boys (aged around 12) used to come for initiation ceremonies – they would stay for 1 month in the bush. The area is wooded to provide shade for those undergoing the hardships of the ritual and a small river flows nearby which would allow the boys to quench their thirst.

Ancient fig trees at Endorois initiation site, Lake Bogoria

As the light fades we decide to call it a day and head out of the Reserve. Miniature antelopes called dikdiks dodge our headlights along the way.

If you haven’t done already, I urge you to sign up to our online petition supporting the Endorois (and get as many of your friends, family and colleagues to do so too). We’ll be handing the petition over to the Kenyan government at the end of 2008. By adding your voice you can help right the wrongs of the past and allow this unique community to fully benefit from the lucrative tourism conducted upon their homeland.

Down to business

MRG’s Programmes Officer, Neil Clarke, prepares to make an intervention at the African Commission, gets to know MRG’s partner organisations and is inspired by their activism

I was up like a flash this morning to catch what water was available for a warm shower and to ensure I get some cheese in my omelette… as Albert Finney famously said, “Don’t let the Hotel Exaunel grind you down.”

Today we are to make our intervention at the Commission. An intervention is a short statement under a thematic heading, in our case Indigenous Peoples. The intervention can address the Commission and attending governments directly, draws attention to specific issues and requests specific actions. It is one of the various actions you can take at such fora, alongside the opportunity to network, meet states directly and hold side events to raise awareness.

We are here with some of our partners from across Africa, who have each contributed their community’s experience and calls for action to the statement. I will briefly let you know which groups are here with us and their involvement in the statement, so you have an idea why this is such a pressing cause.

Ag Aly is from the Tuareg peoples, an indigenous pastoralist community spread across the desert borders of Mali and Niger. The Tuareg have become extremely marginalized and lack even basic services in their region. This in turn has lead to movements for greater autonomy from the Tuareg, to which the governments have responded with force. In Mali, the Tuareg region has now become militarised, prohibiting the free movement of these peoples and their access to schools and health services. In Niger, the situation is even more pressing. Under the cloak of a State of Emergency, Tuareg are subjected to arbitrary arrests and extrajudicial killings by the military.

Ibrahim is from the Mboro, an indigenous people of Cameroon. Again they find their community separated by national borders, across Chad and the Central African Republic. Lack of representation in government means their issues are ignored, leaving them vulnerable to abuse. It is becoming common for Mboro children to be kidnapped by armed gangs for ransom. Often the children are murdered regardless of payment and governing states are complicit by their inaction.

Benon, is a Batwa from Rwanda, the original indigenous people of the region. Batwa were caught in the middle of the tragic conflict between the dominant Tutsi and Hutu groups in Rwanda. Already marginalized, they have suffered more than any from the devastation caused by the conflict. Only 7% of Batwa have access to healthcare and 51% remain illiterate (the national figure being 25%), these are just a few of the examples.

But not all examples are negative, it is important to show that there are positive examples of good practice. Tezera from Ethiopia, has been working closely with the government and MRG for Ethiopia’s pastoralist communities. This has lead to Pastoralist representation in Parliament, a government standing committee and the recognition of Pastoralist Day as a National celebration – which all goes a long way to changing public perception of pastoralists.

So you see we are here for a greater purpose and struggle than surviving our accommodation. This is a very valuable exercise and for me a personal privilege to be in the company of these activists, regardless of the lizard in my toilet.