Once
upon a time a romantic notion prevailed abroad in the land that church
premises were sanctuaries for those escaping persecution. This romantic
notion was eventually extended to all places of worship; if you were on
the run from greedy, grasping, iniquitous hands, you would find
sanctuary in a place of worship. Nowadays, though, very few see places
of worship as sanctuaries, or safe havens. They have become militarised,
just as we have militarised every open public space in this country in
the name of internal security. We used to take it for granted that even
with the extremely uncouth behaviour of matatu crews, we would arrive at
our destinations a little careworn but safe nonetheless. Rising cases
of public transport bombings, as well as the occasional Gor Mahia
anti-PSV rampage, mean that it is on a wing and a prayer that we board
public service vehicles. It is common today to witness black-clad men
(and women) of the cloth demanding that more police be hired, more
police be deployed on the streets and in the valleys of death, and
evil-doers be hunted down and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the
law; the Church has become an enthusiastic cheerleader of the
more-police-more-security line of thought. This is sad.
Form has replaced substance. Even a casual examination of the Traffic Act as amended recently demonstrates that Kenyans have given upon substantive reforms—we no longer wish to reform our behaviour; we would rather depend on a draconian enforcement of laws we have no wish to obey to "keep us safe". It is becoming increasingly apparent that we have made a fetish of the form of our interpersonal relationships and turned it into an abstract thing our relationship with our government. The Law is an abstract concept; its obedience is an abstract act; its enforcement does not apply to us—it applies to everyone else.
When Kenyan police were murdered in Baragoi in the Suguta valley, our outrage was not that police were murdered in cold blood; our outrage was that the police who were murdered were "inexperienced". We have blithely stood by as social and family ties have withered and died in an environment of ever greater permissiveness and an increasing tolerance for violence, whether physical, verbal or psychological. Violence has began to characterise the discourse in the church too; what else explains the panel of men of the cloth demanding the deployment of ever greater numbers of "experienced" police to deal with the violence unleashed on the peoples of Kenya in this election cycle? When children are increasingly educated with the language of violence (in Sunday schools across the nation, children are exhorted to be "soldiers of Christ") and when politicians and other opinion-makers and leaders use violent imagery to define their opponents, it is too much to expect that a people primed for violence will not resort to violence to resolve heir differences. The cattle-rustlers of the Suguta valley apparently condone a tit-for-tat cycle that sees one ethnic community's rustlers raid another community's "territory" in the full knowledge that retaliation will take place regardless of what the Executive branch does or demands. Minister Katoo Ole Metito has responded as his ministry is wont to respond—by deploying more police in the area and by engaging in a "disarmament exercise". The minister must surely know that his efforts are wasted; in a month's time, perhaps longer, the retaliation will surely take place and we will be wringing our hands in despair and asking "Why?"
We must moan the removal of the rose-tinted glasses through which we viewed the Church. It is now one amongst a growing list of discredited social institutions that we once had faith in. Together with the total collapse of the village, the institution of high learning (aka the University) and the the State, Kenyans are left to fend for themselves and themselves alone. We only care about individual or nuclear family needs, sometimes not even the latter. The promises of the likes of Raila Odinga, Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto are filtered through the prism of individual need and greed; we will line up behind them not because they are our ethnic champions, but because they are the surest guarantee that we will amass great wealth by crooked means. The moderating voice of the church leadership or the village elders or the university intellectuals has been stilled for the longest of times; their stillness promises that in 2013 we can only pray that some idiot wins outright.
Form has replaced substance. Even a casual examination of the Traffic Act as amended recently demonstrates that Kenyans have given upon substantive reforms—we no longer wish to reform our behaviour; we would rather depend on a draconian enforcement of laws we have no wish to obey to "keep us safe". It is becoming increasingly apparent that we have made a fetish of the form of our interpersonal relationships and turned it into an abstract thing our relationship with our government. The Law is an abstract concept; its obedience is an abstract act; its enforcement does not apply to us—it applies to everyone else.
When Kenyan police were murdered in Baragoi in the Suguta valley, our outrage was not that police were murdered in cold blood; our outrage was that the police who were murdered were "inexperienced". We have blithely stood by as social and family ties have withered and died in an environment of ever greater permissiveness and an increasing tolerance for violence, whether physical, verbal or psychological. Violence has began to characterise the discourse in the church too; what else explains the panel of men of the cloth demanding the deployment of ever greater numbers of "experienced" police to deal with the violence unleashed on the peoples of Kenya in this election cycle? When children are increasingly educated with the language of violence (in Sunday schools across the nation, children are exhorted to be "soldiers of Christ") and when politicians and other opinion-makers and leaders use violent imagery to define their opponents, it is too much to expect that a people primed for violence will not resort to violence to resolve heir differences. The cattle-rustlers of the Suguta valley apparently condone a tit-for-tat cycle that sees one ethnic community's rustlers raid another community's "territory" in the full knowledge that retaliation will take place regardless of what the Executive branch does or demands. Minister Katoo Ole Metito has responded as his ministry is wont to respond—by deploying more police in the area and by engaging in a "disarmament exercise". The minister must surely know that his efforts are wasted; in a month's time, perhaps longer, the retaliation will surely take place and we will be wringing our hands in despair and asking "Why?"
We must moan the removal of the rose-tinted glasses through which we viewed the Church. It is now one amongst a growing list of discredited social institutions that we once had faith in. Together with the total collapse of the village, the institution of high learning (aka the University) and the the State, Kenyans are left to fend for themselves and themselves alone. We only care about individual or nuclear family needs, sometimes not even the latter. The promises of the likes of Raila Odinga, Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto are filtered through the prism of individual need and greed; we will line up behind them not because they are our ethnic champions, but because they are the surest guarantee that we will amass great wealth by crooked means. The moderating voice of the church leadership or the village elders or the university intellectuals has been stilled for the longest of times; their stillness promises that in 2013 we can only pray that some idiot wins outright.
No comments:
Post a Comment