Why Human Rights? And Where? Part I

I recently had some opportunities that made me feel proud of the work that I do. At the same time they highlighted how gargantuan the task of 'protecting human rights' truly is. Humility is a staple at every meal, these days.

From May 16-20, I was in Lagos, Nigeria, for the African Network of Constitutional Lawyers Annual Conference. The theme for their conference this year was 'Nurturing Judicial Independence and Accountability in Africa'. I was asked to present a paper that I had submitted. Briefly, the paper was on the recent decision by the High Court of Kenya to issue an arrest warrant for Omar al-Bashir, the President of Sudan, should he enter Kenyan territory. If you'll recall, I blogged about it back in December, as the case was brought to court by ICJ Kenya. In particular, the paper I wrote focused on how the Bashir Decision was a good indication of the growing independence of the Kenyan Judiciary. It was a simple paper, and seemed well-received.

But this isn't a post for boasting. The conference was a forum for lawyers and legal academics to congregate from around the continent. There were lawyers from Cameroon, Nigeria, Chad, Ghana, Kenya, Zimbabwe, and South Africa. Brilliant minds from across Africa, all discussing major issues on the status of Judiciaries in Africa. The picture that was painted wasn't exactly glowing. Rampant corruption and underfunding of the judicial system in places like Nigeria have led to bizarre decisions where judges are acting as 'gatekeepers' for the political elite, sheltering them from responsibility and accountability. In Cameroon, the fact that judges have to 'answer' to the President is a serious violation of the independence of the Judiciary, and seems to have led to some serious miscarriages of justice. It highlighted some of the ongoing issues of corruption, impunity, and poor governance that continue to be a problem in Africa.

At the same time, it was a congregation of smart, passionate, and insightful individuals, who have dedicated their lives to bringing about a positive change. I once had the misfortune of hearing someone say that "the problem with Africa is Africans". I never really understood that sentiment - which Africans? All of the individuals I have had the pleasure of meeting have been hard-working, dedicated, and resourceful. Even those people living far below the poverty line have come up with innovative ways of making ends meet. Especially in the Human Rights field, many lawyers and activists toil tirelessly to fight against injustice and tyranny, putting their own lives at risk, for little or no material gain. So I wonder again - which Africans are causing the problems?

Lagos itself was quite an experience. The city is massive, with a population nearing 20 million people. I was staying on Victoria Island, which is apparently a more 'upper class' area. It was hard to tell one from the other, as Lagos is a crowded city - high rises next to low-income settlements, all cramped together as the city literally spills out into the sea. There is a shanty town built on stilts that is completely on the water. Despite the well-built roads, car transport is just as cramped - traffic is horrendous, dangerous, and loud. Nigerian people are just as loud and boisterous, but are incredibly friendly and jovial as well. It's obviously a vibrant country, despite the ongoing violence and tensions, and the people I met were fun-loving and really enjoyed watching me eat the local food. I was completely unprepared for Nigerian food, which was incredibly spicy, and rather exotic - including snails, among other things. Luckily, they also really like fried rice.

I grew up herding cattle, now I want to be an aeronautical engineer - Richard, 13

I'm feeling a bit inspired these days. This could from managing to finish a bunch of larger projects today; it could be because I was up until 4:00am finishing those projects. In any event, it has been an interesting and eventful month.

First, and probably most exciting, my parents came to visit me and my fiancée in April. I took some (much needed) leave days from work, and we went down to Arusha, Tanzania. Arusha is an interesting place. It is a small-ish city that has experienced somewhat of a boom in population and urban planning. This is for two reasons: (1) tourism - this makes the most sense, as Arusha is an ideal gateway to many fantastic safari opportunities (more on that later), and (2) because of the amount of human rights and international criminal justice initiatives that have centred there. The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda is located in Arusha, as is the African Court on Human and People's Rights. If I'm not mistaken, it's also the home of the East African Court of Justice. These institutions, especially the ICTR, has given Arusha a distinctly cosmopolitan flavour, mixed up nicely with a rural, traditional lifestyle.

I really enjoyed the atmosphere, since I'm distinctly pro-International Criminal Justice, and because of things like this:

And this:

I think we maximized the sight-seeing potentials in Northern Tanzania, visiting Tarangire Park, Lake Manyara, the Ngorongoro Crater, and the Serengeti. I generally tend to shy away from things that I consider to be 'too touristy', but going on game drives in this region truly is amazing. I think I can safely check that off my list, at least for sometime. There is something rather satisfying about having the patience to wait for a leopard to descend from its tree (while most other people have driven by, taken a few snaps, and moved on), pose, and then absolutely disappear into the grass. For some reason, it made me want to get back into rock climbing.

Game drives aside, though, the human rights field has been considerably buzzing. First, Thomas Lubanga was convicted for war crimes, largely for conscripting child soldiers. That is a massive win for international criminal justice, despite what some people think. And it is definitely more relevant than the Kony 2012 video that caused such a stir. Not only that, but on April 26th, the Special Court for Sierra Leone convicted Charles Taylor of 11 charges of crimes against humanity, war crimes, and serious violations of international humanitarian law. This is the first time a Head of State has been held accountable for his actions. In both cases, we are awaiting the decisions on how the two men will be sentenced (supposedly the prosecutors are looking for an 80-year sentence for Taylor).

This has been a busy month for International Criminal Justice. The decisions serve a clear warning to the political elite around the world that they will be held accountable for their actions (directly or indirectly). There has been some criticism levelled on the International Criminal Justice mechanisms, especially with regards to the amount of time and money that has been spent, with so few results. But I feel that most of these criticisms do not reflect a clear understanding of International Criminal Justice - even in domestic courts, criminal trials can take years to be resolved. And domestic cases generally revolve around one victim, and one event, in which the accused is directly linked. International Crimes exist on an entirely different paradigm, and have entirely different issues and characteristics. It is about prosecuting those most responsible for large-scale violations of human rights. It requires careful investigation (there will be no DNA evidence, no 'gun with fingerprints on it'), careful deliberations, and intensive legal work.

I have no doubt that the two verdicts will be appealed by the accused. Both the accused and the lawyers have too much invested in this process to simply let it stand. More importantly, because this is new ground that is being broken, in both cases, there is a substantial amount of legal principles and concepts of International Criminal Justice that are not yet universally agreed upon. So that leaves a large chunk of lawyerly work left to do. But, even if they appeal, more legal consideration is only a positive thing. One of the most important aspects of trial procedure is that the decision serves as an historical reference point for International Criminal Justice, and one that will be used to guide further progress, both with its successes and failures.

I was also fortunate to attend a TED event in Nairobi. This event was called 'TEDsalon', and was part of a worldwide talent search that is being undertaken by the people at TED, in order to find young and brilliant talent.

I say fortunate because (a) there had been minimal advertising for the event, which was crazy, since it was free, and TED is rather a global phenomenon now, so we were lucky to find out about it, and (b) because it is now the rainy season here, traffic is generally crazy, and was worse today because of all the accidents. We squeezed into the doors, just as they were closing, and got our minds blown, along with the other 500 or so people packed into the small auditorium.

The topics ranged from wildlife conservation to alternative fuel sources to slam poetry to journalism, and everything in between. The format of TEDsalon was for each participant to inspire the crowd in 6 minutes. We were instructed to give standing ovations, or boo, as individuals, and try and be active participants in the process. The facilitators who had given us these instructions were not from around here, or at least were used to British crowds, because I don't think they were prepared for the Nairobi crowd. We were raucous, loud, and incredibly supportive - I feel like every speaker probably felt pretty good about themselves. Here are some of my favourite moments:

• Richard, a 12 year old boy, invented a system, using a car battery, a signal switch from a motorbike, and LED lights, to scare off lions from the cattle that he was responsible for herding and protecting. Simultaneously, he protected his father's wealth, and contributed to lion conservation - lion populations have been rapidly declining as human settlements creep closer and closer to lion territory. Thanks to that invention, which is being implemented in many different communities, Richard has secured a full scholarship to the country's best high school. Now he wants to be an air plane engineer.
• A man walks on the stage, wearing a ski mask, and a baseball hat with beads hanging down, so we can't see his eyes. He is an undercover journalist, who has dedicated himself to 'naming, shaming, and jailing' those people that take advantage of the vulnerable. He works with Al Jazeera, and uncovered some of the most disturbing evidence of the treatment of Albinos in Tanzania, and Psychiatric Patients in Ghana. In each case, he goes 'undercover', assuming an identity (such as a psychiatric patient), so that he can gain access to situations most journalists and prosecutors are unable to. He builds a story, builds evidence, and literally takes down the bad guys.
• A 19 year old girl comes on stage, and delivers probably the best piece of poetry I've ever heard live. It's called 'Call me Africa'. It speaks of prejudice, independence, misconceptions and spirit. But the most engaging thing was the response from the crowd, who was seemingly living and breathing with the whole thing. Immersive, and a little spine-tingling.
• There was a lot of talk about toilets. We tend to take our waste for granted. We flush it down the toilet. But in Kibera, Nairobi's largest slum (and indeed, in all the informal settlements in Nairobi, which house 2/3rds of Nairobi's population), where does that waste go? Well, as a few people recognized, it doesn't go anywhere (because of a lack of sewage and piping), and worse, it goes to waste. Instead, some people have taken the notion that 'Human Investment' (or 'shit', as one of the presenters was quick to point out) is now being used in these areas as a viable source of fuel. There are now several 'bio-centres' in Kibera that, on one end, are public toilets, and on the other end, fuel gas stoves for kitchens and cafeterias. Although, as one presenter pointed out, more work has to be done to involve the individuals, especially when it comes to preserving human dignity. After all, 'who wants to cook in a toilet?'

The whole event was a bit awe-inspiring. It was a great reminder of resourcefulness of human nature, and a reminder that there is a very different story behind the 'malnourished, dangerous, crushed by poverty' Africa.

I'll end there, but expect more updates soon - I am going to Nigeria next week, to present a paper at the African Network of Constitutional Lawyers. It will be good, epic, or both.

Changes abound

Well, my tenure as a CBA intern is officially over.  My final report was submitted, all the boxes on the list were checked, and I've emailed my farewells.

But the adventure isn't over!

My new position with ICJ Kenya has started. I am now the Assistant Programme Officer in the International Cooperation Programme (or, ICP).  The ICP is focused on the East African International Criminal Justice Initiative, a large, multi-year project funded by the European Union, which seeks to promote, domesticate and implement the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court within the East African region. So far, the project focuses on 7 countries - Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, the Sudan (both, now), Rwanda, Burundi, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.  It's a large undertaking, and its ultimate aim is the end of impunity, so it is very exciting for me. It also gives me some opportunities to travel around the region, and be engaged in places I otherwise wouldn't have seen.

The new position will also see a shift in my work focus.  As an intern, I was part of the Human Rights Protection team in theory, but in practice I was a jack-of-all-trades, and worked with every group at ICJ Kenya. Now, I will be focused on one program, and the various projects in administers.  Project management is a key aspect of my job description, and as I found out at our recent Planning Meeting in Mombasa, this also involves event planning and budget administration.  I also learned that when you tell people that there is a "limited travel allowance for participants", people will hear "take taxis everywhere, especially when you want to go out drinking".  So, a bit of learning needed on my part.

Other changes to report:

• My shoes:  I have one pair of black shoes and one pair of brown shoes (with matching belts). As a by-product of walking to work everyday, my dress shoes have gotten scuffed.  This is a big deal - my Kenyan colleagues dress smartly, so they didn't hesitate to point out the fact that my shoes looked terrible, and that I was being a 'typical mzungu' (since most travellers tend to bring their 'bad' clothes to Kenya, maybe because of some misconception that they might 'fit in' a bit better).  So, I asked a colleague to take my brown shoes in for a polish.  Imagine my surprise when they returned, shining, and jet-black. I'm not entirely sure how this got lost in translation, or perhaps the shoe polisher only had one colour, but now I have two pairs of black dress shoes.  I suppose I'll have to go shoe-shopping, now, since I have no reason to wear my brown belt anymore...
  
• My routine: After my spectacular failure to run in the Masai Mara marathon (for that story, and the dead donkey, read here), my goals to run a half-marathon in Kenya fell off the rails. Call it post-donkey complacency disorder. Now, I am back on track, thanks in part to my fiancée, who is a great motivator, and to the impending race that I am duty-bound to participate in: the Lewa Marathon.  This is an annual event at work, and apparently is one of the hardest marathons in the world.  This might have something to do with the fact that they have to chase wildlife away from the race route. Either way, I've taken to getting up at 6am, to go run around the dusty streets of Nairobi. Who knew?
  
• My hair:  I cut it short. One coworker (female), got mad at me for not saving the hair, because she would have liked to have made a wig out of it. I'm not sure what else to say about that.

Otherwise, major changes continue to linger on the horizon of the Kenyan landscape - Oil was discovered in Turkana County (Northern Kenya), election campaigning is becoming paramount, and intermittent grenade attacks are all over the news these days. It looks like the Kenyan elections will happen in March 2013, so this promises to be a very interesting year.

Those Most Responsible

There is a curious phenomenon sweeping over the Internet right now. People are listing it as 'inspiring'.  Much has been said already, but I just have a few comments about the Kony 2012 movement that has gone viral:

1. There are better opinions there about what some of the shortcomings of the campaign are.  You can read them here and here.  I agree with those sentiments.  However, I am extremely impressed by the mobilization around the movie (positive and negative).  The impact of technology, the Internet, and social media is incredibly impressive.  And while I am worried that our intellectual capacities are not advancing as fast as technology (there is incredible ignorance and naivety about the attention to Kony 2012), this phenomenon really gets me excited about the possibility of getting the right people, in the right room, at the right time.  Can you imagine if someone used the same production value as the Kony movie, but directed the attention at the plight of First Nations people in Canada, with proper facts, and got the same response (15+ Million viewers, endorsements by major athletes and Justin Bieber)?  I think that there is a huge likelihood that noticeable changes would have occurred, quickly.
   
   
2. Speaking of changes, I feel like the entire movie, catchphrase, and movement really speak to a fairy tale culture.  The idea of “stopping at nothing to stop Kony” misses one key issue, for me.  The whole thing stops at Kony.  One individual.  And then all the children live happily ever after.  It is very difficult for me to see how the removal of one individual will make the lives of the children markedly better, and yet the movie still strikes a chord.  There is something quite compelling about good vs. evil stories.  But this isn’t a movie, and the situation is worse, and much more complicated than a 24 minute movie could ever capture.  Unfortunately, it is simply not as ‘sexy’ to make a movie about the years of psychological counseling, physical rehabilitation, and social reintegration that are necessary to help these children become ‘normal’.
   
   In any event, has anyone stopped to interrogate whether the removal of a dictator/despot has lasting, positive consequences?  There have been quite a few disposed of recently (Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, Gaddafi).  Who exactly is living happily ever after?  They no longer pose a threat, individually.  But the associated countries are in turmoil.  I recall the issues and concern over the IRA – I don’t know of any high-level assassinations/killings in Ireland, and yet I can’t think of any major issues coming from there – there were peace talks, and the matter quietly diminished from view.  (although this could be ignorance on my part, as I don’t regularly follow the Irish situation).

For all its trials and tribulations, Kony 2012 has done one major thing.  It has created dialogue, and more importantly, it has opened up a space in our society (and especially in North America), where, if one is savvy enough, there can be continual discourse on the issue of child soldiers in Uganda, among other things.  Bringing violations and atrocities to light is generally the domain of the traditional media, but the impact of initiatives like this one are much different, and powerful in a different way.  The ultimate end-result is this – for a large group of people (youth in North America, predominantly), Joseph Kony has been ‘outed’.  There is worldwide attention, scrutiny, and general disdain of his actions, and the lack of consequences he’s faced.  This mass attention is a massive tool for fighting impunity, and in my mind, impunity is something worth fighting against.

Bring Kony to Justice, yes.

Stop Impunity. 2012.

Reparations: Not just a big word.

One of the biggest aspects of Transitional Justice - the concept of using justice measures to emerge from conflict into a peaceful society - is the concept of reparations.  Reparations, as the name might suggest, are measures that are taken to repair the harm of past injustices.  That's a broad definition, and is purposefully open-ended.  Often, an outside perspective sees the easiest way of 'compensating' for loss or harm is to give people money - that is the foundation of our normal, civil court systems.

But, compensation, especially monetary compensation, is really a limited method of resolving issues.  There is a tangible difference between ‘doing justice’ and ‘repairing harm’.  In fact, it is often the case that the Justice System is incredibly poor at repairing harm, especially in the criminal justice system.  Crimes are prosecuted by the state, and in most circumstances, victims have a very limited role to play – generally they are involved as witnesses, and not often as much else.  And, for anyone that’s been inside a courtroom, let alone participated as a witness, well, it can be a trauma of its own.  In fact, a major concern for reparation schemes is the issue of re-victimization – oftentimes, if processes are engaged in that are not empathetic to a victim’s situation, forcing a victim to participate via re-living past experiences can itself be a very damaging exercise.

So, the very first concern that a reparations scheme must work from is – what do the victims need?  A reparations scheme necessarily needs to be victim-centered, because you are not going to mend any wounds by simply throwing money at people.  Worse, there can be all sorts of other negative consequences of that.  Being victim-centered means being alive to the various and myriad wants, needs and expectations of people that have suffered in the past.

But, the very next concern is practicality.  It is all well and good to understand all the things that victims want, need, and deserve.  But, how is it going to be paid for?  And by whom?  That is a massive problem.  Even if a Government is willing to come forward and publicly acknowledge and apologize for its role as a perpetrator (see Canada), most governments would be bankrupted by the size and scope of some of the historical violations of human rights.

The final concern, taking the first two into consideration, is what measures will be taken to effectively meet those needs, in a financially feasible way?  Unfortunately, a lot of discussions about this turn to very academic and theoretical discourse.  They talk about the social utility of memorialization, or of collective, community reparative mechanisms.  In fact, in a lot of jurisdictions, a lot of pretty creative things have been tried – for example, in one situation, a community was given a lump sum of money, a collective reparation, in trust, and was given the task of democratically deciding how that money was going to be used.  They could use it to build a school, divide it up, build roads, etc.  But you can only get so creative – meeting victim’s needs, and allocating from a limited pool of money are two things that never really manage to be ideal.  In fact, the question is not so much about what measures are going to be taken, but how the measures can be implemented without disappointing too many people.  It’s absolutely a sobering fact.

At a recent Reparations meeting with a variety of Civil Society Organizations, there were some really high level discussions on this topic.  The favored option was for collective reparations, as they tended to be more economically suitable – the main issue, one person argued, was that there needs to be constant, ongoing, and meaningful communication between the administrative body setting up reparations, and the particular community – that way the community feels a sense of ownership over the project.  It’s not just a school that pops up out of nowhere, built by a bunch of people they don’t know, but it’s a school that they build, they name, and they can feel pride in.  I felt good about that.

The next week, I attended a Grassroots Education Outreach with some of the community leaders from around Nairobi.  There were many different topics chosen, but one thing was clear – “we don’t want new roads, schools, or statues.  The Government always does that, and it’s the Government that has the cars to drive on the roads to go to the schools.  We want compensation.”  (That’s not a direct quote, but I think it went something like that).

There are two problems.  Well, there are probably many more than just two, but the two I think are key are:

1. The poorest and most vulnerable people tend to suffer the greatest violations.
2. There is a cultural, linguistic, empathetic barrier between academic elites and victims.

In other words, those least capable of defending themselves are often the most affected by conflict, and those most privileged with knowledge and training (and probably the least affected) don’t seem to understand, or perhaps lack the perspective to effectively connect with the victims.  And seeing as I belong to the latter group, there are things I want to avoid thinking:

1. That we need to practically come up with a scheme that will fit our financial constraints
2. That I think that reparations scheme X is best suited for victims
3. That there’s no point in giving impoverished victims compensation, just because they won’t know how to use it

As soon as I think those thoughts, I will be slipping into a patronizing mentality, and the chance for true healing is far, far away. 

In Kenya, we are unfortunately in that situation now, as ICJ Kenya, and a small group of CSOs are working to develop the entire reparations mechanism for past injustices in Kenyan history (dating back from 1963 to present).  The massive scope of the exercise probably necessitates a massive, comprehensive, and well-thought out reparations scheme.  The prospect that I may be able to make a significant contribution to this is an exciting opportunity for me, and will be a great experience.  But the fact that I have never had any meaningful engagement with any victims is worrisome.  How can I be responsible for a massive undertaking to provide assistance to people that I have never met, and never had the opportunity to understand?

It would be very easy to slip into a mentality of making decisions for people I don’t know.  And that is the heart of the issue here.  When you give something to someone because you feel sorry or obligated, but do not get to know that person, that, to me, is the definition of pity.  And pity is a poor motivating factor for positive social change.

I am not sure I know what the right balance is, but I’ll let you know how things go, and whether our attempt gets to a better balance than some other attempts.

Making the best of a good situation

I realize that I've been quite lackadaisical with my blog updates.  I apologize.  I think I underestimated the amount of thought, insight, and time that is required for successful blog entries.  For me, all those things are in short supply these days.  But that's not necessarily a bad thing, at all.

As mentioned in the last few posts, 2012 has started rather intensely.  There have been developments all over the place, which has led to ICJ Kenya being loaded up with work from all different angles.  Luckily, we've had the pleasure of taking on a couple of new hires to the team.  But there was no honeymoon period - they were marched straight into the trenches and are already being ferried around the country, giving seminars, doing community outreach, and all the other festivities that we call 'programmatic activities' over here.

The new team members are going through precisely what I went through 5 months ago.  Time flies.  But it is worth noting - I came to an organization that has been in existence for over 50 years, and, over the last 20 years, has established itself as close to the best Human Rights NGO in Kenya, and definitely a leading NGO in the East African region.  That is pretty impressive stuff, and wasn't lost on me in my first few days here.

Put yourself in my shoes for a moment.  You are one year out from law school, and have spent that year working at a large general practice law firm in Alberta.  You went into law school on the premise that you wanted to help people, and you have a mild, but naive interest in human rights work.  You go to law school at the University of Alberta - one of the best law schools in Canada, known for building practical knowledge of law.  There are only three professors who teach topics on international law, and only one course in international human rights law.  You take that course, but ultimately, after three years in law school, it is unclear how to actually find work in the human rights field.

You graduate and go on to work at a law firm known for its links to the community, and for taking on cases that are socially relevant.  That is great, and you get to work on some interesting files, but most of the files you work on are insurance defence files.  That is a long way away from promoting and protecting human rights.  And, after all, a law firm is a business enterprise, not a public interest forum.

Now, after all that, you get an absolutely wonderful opportunity - an internship program specifically designed to help young lawyers get their foot in the Human Rights door.  Great.  Even better, it's in Kenya, and they've just made a new Constitution, and they like speaking English.  It's ideal.

You show up in Kenya armed with a mosquito net, the vague idea that human rights are universal, and your spare copy of 'public international law for students'.  You know that in 2007 Kenya had a lot of conflict associated with their elections, and that Kofi Annan had to step in and negotiate a deal.  You know that many people died, and many more were displaced from their homes.

Then you get whisked off all over the country, to monitor the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission, and get a massive dose of reality.  You also get asked to help design a legal aid scheme and a reparations policy for the entire country.  That's a little bit different from getting an order for substitutional service in chambers, and writing a research memo on injunctions for a case involving condominium boards.  Don't get me wrong - domestic, 'normal' legal practice is one of the most important jobs in our society.  But for me, armed with basically no practical knowledge of international human rights affairs, it was a little bit intimidating, to say the least.

One of the biggest hurdles to get over was the fact that this was an established organization, with great legal minds and sound administrative structures - how was I going to make a meaningful contribution?  Turns out that contributions come in all shapes and sizes.  I didn't exactly come to Kenya to engage in web design, but it turns out that my work on the ICJ Kenya website will probably have the longest lasting impact with the organization (depending on how my work on the reparation policy goes...can you imagine designing a policy for repairing harms to victims that were suffered from 1963-present day?  If you can, let me know, I could use the help, especially since it's due in less than a month).  And, slowly but surely, my knowledge of human rights issues, transitional justice, and international criminal justice grows on a daily basis.

More than that, my appreciation for the issues here in Kenya has been growing immensely, and often not from the work, per se.  I had a chat with one of our new employees.  He's the definition of a friendly giant - big guy, soft heart.  We were having a conversation about corruption and integrity of political leaders.  I wanted to know if things were getting better - they seemed to be, given all the major reforms that Kenya was undergoing.  He chuckled at that.  Then he told a story about his old roommate's fiancee.  She had been at a party with a local MP in attendance.  He took a fancy to her.  She told him she was engaged.  He pursued her further.  She almost literally ran out of the party, phoning her fiancee to ask for a ride home.  They found her body the next day - she had been thrown out of a moving vehicle.  They contacted the police, gave statements, and hoped that the police would track down the perpetrators.  The story ran in the newspapers.  The next day, the Police Commissioner informed the media that he was taking over the case.  In two days, he gave a statement that it was a road accident, she had been hit by several different cars while crossing the street.  Somehow, there was no mention of the eye witness accounts, where people saw her body being dumped out of a car.

That happened last year.  That is what drives my colleague to fight injustice.

Impunity is a major issue, both here in Kenya, and in basically everywhere else in the world.  The truth is, part of the reason that ICJ Kenya is so busy is because the quantity and scope of major human rights issues are so large.  In a proper functioning society, there is no need for the human rights defender.  I am having an engaging experience because of it, but the work that I am doing has more than just academic importance.  I also have a passion to fight injustice, but have never experienced it on the visceral level as some of my colleagues have.

I may still be very naive about the types of evils that lurk around, but that doesn't change my job description.  I'm here to learn, to help, and to do my best to create a better functioning society.  Sounds like a pretty good plan to me.

Setting goals in an uncertain year

2012, in a lot of ways, will be an historic year in Kenya.  Let's hope that the historic moment is not marred by violence, corruption and controversy.  Work at the office has already become overwhelmingly busy.  There is going to be a lot of goal setting and priority juggling.  We are off on a 'Strategic Planning Retreat' in the first week of February, so that the office can take some time to plan for the year ahead, and so that the new faces can meet everyone and get a real sense of how ICJ-Kenya works.

In the meantime, the Kenyan situation forges ahead:

• The Kenyan High Court released its decision on when the Elections Date should actually be held.  It's quite an interesting situation, in actual fact - while the new Constitution of Kenya holds that all elections in Kenya should be held in August, this entire year is a 'transitional' year.  Which means that several major sections of the Constitution, including when the next election should be held, are unclear.  There has been considerable debate on the matter, from all sides of society.  CSOs have been urging for the 'direct' interpretation of the Constitution, and for elections to be held in August 2012.  The Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission, which is the major administrative body in charge of setting up the elections, had stated that it would be impossible, from an administrative standpoint, to have the elections any time before December 2012.  On that note, an MP put a bill forward in Parliament, hoping to amend the Constitution (both on the elections date, and on the issue of the 1/3 gender requirement).  President Kibaki has come out and asked people to respect the 'full terms' of the elected officials, from the last election (which would put the elections sometime in March 2013).  So, inevitably, it remained for the courts to make the final determination.  If you need some bedtime reading, you can read the full decision here. It is an interesting decision, which ultimately refers to the 'Power-sharing' government that was set up by Kofi Annan as a means of ending the 2007 post-election violence.  One of the important aspects of the power-sharing agreement between the President and the Prime Minister was that neither one could dissolve the National Assembly without the express written consent of the other.  Otherwise, the terms of the two heads of state were to expire after 5 years (January 2013).  And, by the letter of the law, an election would have to be held within 60 days of either (a) the dissolution of the National Assembly, or (b) the expiry of the terms of the elected officials.  So, it turns out that the High Court agreed with President Kibaki (sort of) - the absolute latest date that an election could be held is March 2013, unless the President and Prime Minister agree to dissolve the National Assembly before that time.  An appeal of the decision has already been launched by a group of Civil Society Organizations (not including ICJ-Kenya), based on the argument that the Prime Minister (Raila Odinga), should not be in a position to determine the next elections date, since he intends to run in the elections himself.  I'll be watching this development closely, given the link between violence and human rights abuses and elections in Kenya.
  
• Almost concurrently, the Deputy Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Kenya, Nancy Baraza, got mixed up in a tabloid-worthy conflict.  Allegedly, Madame Justice Baraza entered a busy, up-scale shopping mall in Nairobi in order to visit the pharmacy, but walked right through the necessary security protocols (each mall and hotel here has a security guard that will scan you with a metal detector).  So, the female security guard followed her inside to get her attention and to screen her.  Once the guard got the DCJ's attention, then conflict began.  DCJ Baraza got angry with the security guard for not recognizing her, pinched her nose, and, depending on the news source: (a) went to her car and got her gun to threaten the security guard, (b) took her own bodyguard's gun to threaten the security guard, (c) threatened to shoot the guard, with or without a gun, or (d) talked about something to do with guns, with no gun present.  In any event, it seems apparent that those actions were 'conduct unbecoming' of the second-most prestigious Judge in Kenya.  Since then, the Judicial Services Commission has investigated her actions, and has recommended that the President suspend her, and appoint a Tribunal to make a decision on whether she is fit to remain in service.  Despite numerous calls for her resignation, DCJ Baraza seems intent on fighting this to the bitter end, as she initially launched a court petition to block the suspension (which she ultimately lost).  This saga is ongoing.
  
• Perhaps most importantly, the International Criminal Court, on January 23rd,  released its decision on the confirmation of charges against the six Kenyans suspected of being the most responsible for the serious crimes arising out of the 2007 post-election violence.  Four out of the six accused individuals had their charges confirmed.  This means, in essence, that the ICC found sufficient grounds to confirm their charges, and to proceed to trial based on their links to substantial human rights violations.  Of the four confirmed, three of them are currently public officials.  Uhuru Kenyatta is the deputy Prime Minister, and the Minister of Finance, Francis Muthaura is the Head of the Civil Service and Secretary of the Cabinet, and William Ruto is the Member of Parliament for Eldoret North.  Both Ruto and Kenyatta are also presidential hopefuls.  From the sounds of it, Kenyatta has stepped down from his post as the Minister of Finance, and Muthaura has stepped aside from his posts.  But there are significant concerns of the roles that these gentlemen will play in Kenyan politics, especially with the upcoming (probably delayed) elections.  What is more hopeful, though, is the fact that the confirmation of the charges against these four is a massive blow against the forces of impunity.  There is a tangible sense that people responsible for major crimes, no matter how prominent the individuals are, will be held accountable for their actions.  The presumption of innocence notwithstanding, the fact that these cases are going to trial is a major step forward.  The two accused that did not have their charges confirmed - Henry Kosgey and Gen. Hussein Ali - are still, however, undergoing investigations by the Office of the Prosecutor.  In fact, the Prosecutor's office continues to do background investigations, which is also a positive sign - one of the controversies arising out of the confirmation stages was that major areas of violence - especially from the Kibera slum and in Kisumu - had been left out by the prosecutors.  Given the way that the ICC processes work, however, the Prosecutor is still able to investigate these situations, and bring them before the court, either as additional evidence against the 4 standing trial, or against the 2 that were not confirmed, in a new confirmation hearing.
  
• On a personal note, I have had an abstract of a paper accepted to the ANCL Annual Conference in Lagos, Nigeria.  The conference is on fostering Judicial Independence in Africa, and I'll be writing a paper on Judicial Independence in the Context of ICC prosecutions, using the decision of the High Court of Kenya to issue a provisional arrest warrant against Omar al-Bashir.  Exciting stuff!  Of course, now I have to actually get down to business and write the paper.

I am still following news in Canada with some interest, and things heat up with regards to the treatment of First Nations, Inuit and Metis people.  I am seeing the monumental changes occurring here in Kenya, and it is providing a very contrasting perspective with how things are developing in Canada.  Just because the label 'developing country' doesn't apply, doesn't mean that a country can do with a few positive developments.

The TJRC and Kiplagat - New Year, New Drama

Well, things did not take long in the new year to get interesting.  Bethuel Kiplagat, the Chair of the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC) of Kenya, went into his office, sat down, read a paper, and demanded that his employees gather up some reports for him.  Does that sound so bad?

Well, read this, this, and this.

Kiplagat, known as a human rights defender of some repute over the last few decades, was properly appointed the Chair of the TJRC when it was first created back in 2008.  Almost immediately, complaints began to surface about his appointment and other allegations started to arise.  There are allegations that he was involved in the Wagalla massacre in 1984. There have been allegations of inappropriate land deals that he brokered, as well as suggestions that he misappropriated funds.  At that stage, they were simply allegations, but given that he was to head one of the largest Commissions aimed at providing the Kenyan people with some form of justice and healing over past human rights abuses, you can imagine that even the faintest sniff that he may have been involved in human rights abuses of his own has serious implications to the credibility of the TJRC.

Initially, he denied the claims and refused to act on these complaints, but after some discussion he agreed to step aside.  A tribunal was formed to look into these allegations, which Kiplagat said he would comply with.  However, shortly after the tribunal was formed, he lodged a civil action in the Kenyan High Court, challenging the tribunals ability to look into his past, claiming that only 'current' issues from the time of his appointment were relevant.  Obviously, that delayed the whole process.

Eventually (and this is two year after the TJRC was formed), the TJRC moved on, and began to do its work without him.  Of course, this whole time, since he had merely stepped aside and not resigned, Kipligat was still receiving his monthly pay cheque.  More importantly, though, the TJRC had lost a significant amount of time, and a significant amount of support and credibility.

As for the tribunal - because of the delays associated with the matter being moved to the High Court, the lifespan of the tribunal expired.  And because the tribunal expired, it looks like Kiplagat thinks that he is free to return to work.With Kiplagat showing back up for work, it is again throwing the TJRC process and the work that they are doing under the radar, while people focus on the actions of the Chair.

ICJ Kenya, along with partner organizations called the Kenyan Transitional Justice Network, had some strong things to say about the matter (read more here), as did other major actors (read here).

There is a tangible and real sense that there are 'forces of impunity' at work, who are attempting to scuttle the TJRC process, which is just entering a critical stage, with its final report due in May 2012.  The TJRC has done incredible work to uncover the truths behind some of the skeletons in Kenya's past.  Let's hope that distractions like Kiplagat don't work to keep them in the closet.

A recapitulation of 2011 in Kenya, inter alia.

I have finally managed to secure reliable internet access.  (Thanks L & T).  So, it behooves me to try my best to give a nice, pithy review of some things that have happened so far, and what I expect to happen, moving forward.

First, let me break down a little of the burglary, which was an entirely unwanted Christmas present.  It highlights at least one of the realities of living in Nairobi, and with a lot of situations that I've run into (some literally), there's a story lingering behind it.

Nairobi has the unfortunate nickname of 'nairobbery', as you'll read in virtually every guidebook to the city.  But, generally speaking, if you don't engage in risky behaviour (i.e. venturing into slum neighbourhoods after dusk, with all your jewelry hanging out), you won't encounter many problems.  Our misfortune wasn't the result of a poor, disenfranchised person, looking to make a quick buck.  It was, as the police officer commented, a 'constructive crime' - one that took careful preparation, was done by someone within (or in conjunction with a tenant/security guard) the apartment complex and was done by someone who either could afford to live in the apartment, or ran in the same circles.  They knew our movements, and they had easy access to our apartment (i.e. they didn't force the door open, so they must have had a key).

But the day of the burglary was an interesting day in itself.  Emily and I had planned a trip to Zanzibar leaving on Dec. 18th, but had to postpone it until the 21st because I was shortlisted for an interview at ICJ Kenya (!).  So, that morning, I suited up at went to the interview.  At the same time, Emily and ER, our friend who was visiting from Dar es Salaam, went to the Kibera slum, to check out a clinic that Emily will be volunteering at.

We reconvened in the afternoon, and debriefed.  I was stoked, because I thought the interview went well (one of the interviewers made a huge checkmark on his sheet, for je ne sais quoi).  The girls were stoked because they had had a really cool time in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Africa.  So, I tossed out the idea of celebrating, and having a bit of a farewell dinner (since we were slated to leave early the next morning) at a Japanese Restaurant.  And so, in that little 3 hour window while we were out having dinner (it was largely unsatisfying...imagine), the thieves struck and our plans changed.

But, despite that, the sting of the losses was tempered by, most importantly, the support and kindness of the friends and family, a nice, short trip to Jinja, Uganda to visit a good friend, and the news that I had been offered a job at ICJ!!!  So, there are a lot of positives to look forward to in 2012.

However, 2011 was definitely not defined by that one instance of criminal activity.  In fact, the past 3 months have been crammed full of amazing work, immersive experiences, and wonderful friends.  Here are my top three experiences so far:

1. Workshop facilitation in Eldoret - Simultaneously the most embarrassing situation I've been in yet, and also the one that I probably learned the most from.  I had been told by the Programme Officer from the Access to Justice Program that I was to help another organization with a workshop for CSOs on the upcoming Vetting of Judges and Magistrates.  There was even a chance to appear on radio!  It sounded great, but early on it was cancelled and rescheduled to a time that I could not attend.  That was a bit disappointing.  Then, one day, while we are eating lunch, the PO comes to me and says 'Josh! Emergency!'  The workshop had been rescheduled to the following day.  Which meant that I had to fly to Eldoret at 630am.  It also meant that I had to prepare a presentation in less than 24 hours.  That was ok.  Then I was sent the itinerary.  While I had thought that I would make a presentation, turns out that I was to be the 'facilitator'.  Which meant that I was slated to give about 3 hours of presentations and discussions.  Whew.  I sure didn't sleep much that night - luckily I wasn't working from scratch, and could pull a lot of material from pre-existing work.
   
   I arrived in Eldoret, was ferried to the hotel and was the whole time going through my presentation in my mind.  As soon as I arrived at the conference room, I started to suspect that something was wrong.  There is a small but significant difference between 'CSO Workshop', and 'Grassroots CSO Workshop'.  I had just prepared 3 hours worth of academic, legalistic, technical material, only to find out that my audience were rural community members, who were involved in a multitude of advocacy work, including one that facilitated inter-tribal soccer matches.
   
   Not only that, but I also learned that a presentation in Kenya has an entirely different system than in Canada.  At home, a presentation is a lecture.  Here, I suppose you could call it an 'interactive teaching session'.  You tend to judge the success of your presentation based on how often people murmur in agreement with what you're saying.  Anyways, like any good mzungu would do, I soldiered on, and fired into my first presentation.  It soon became apparent that I was (shockingly) boring.  So I had to change tactics, rethink the entire rest of what I was going to present on, and just wing it.  There were flip charts, and group activities, and lots of interaction.  I was well-assisted by the hosting organization, who had taken a little pity on me after the way I started it off.
   
   In the end, I think it was helpful for the CSOs, and I know that I learned a lot.  I also felt quite professional, dressed in a suit and from to and from Eldoret in the same day.
   
2. Lodwar - If you haven't read the blog post, it's HERE.  It's still one of the most visceral experiences I've ever had.  The land was hot and dry.  The was an intense drought and associated famine.  The TJRC hearings highlighted some of the historical and ongoing violence with the surrounding communities.  And the whole thing shifted my perspective of Kenya.
   
3. Christmas in Jinja - After all the madness of the burglary subsided, I realized that, despite the fact that we had to cancel the trip to Zanzibar, I still had a massively important thing to do - leave Kenya, in order to renew my Visa.  So, on short notice, I contacted my friend (basically my surrogate Ugandan Mother), who was visiting her brother in Jinja, Uganda over the holidays.  Graciously, her brother invited us to stay in his house over Christmas, and celebrate the holiday with his family.  We accepted.
   
   Before that, though, we had to make it to Jinja.  Silly us - we trusted our guide book, which told us that a certain bus company (Akamba) had been in business for 50 years (true) and was one of the most reliable bus companies in East Africa (unfortunately false).  The guide book was written in 2009, so, from what we were told, things have slid in a huge way over the past 2 years.  The bus trip to Jinja was supposed to take around 10 hours.  20 hours, and 3 buses later, we arrived.  Yes - the first bus, after picking us up 5 hours late, broke down after 4 hours of driving.  This wasn't entirely surprising, since within minutes of picking us up, we stopped at the bus garage, and random welding and banging commenced, while we were still on the bus.  Also, the exhaust system somehow was directed to pump an extremely unhealthy amount of exhaust into the passenger carriage.  Yum.  After it broke down, we waited for an hour, for another bus to come.  This one was in better shape (somewhat).  Too bad they forgot to fill up the gas - it ran out of fuel after about an hour.  The third bus managed the trip, in the blistering hot noon-day sun, and we arrived in beautiful Jinja filthy, stinky and relieved.
   
   The visit itself was remarkable.  It turns out that Mr. Mutebe has 10 children, as well as around 4 other guests, in a (very) comfy bungalow house.  The fact that they cleaned out an entire room for us meant that all the children were double-bunking.  Yet, contrary to what probably would have happened in a North American household, the family told us that 'this was the best Christmas ever!!!' (probably high on the melted chocolate that we brought over), and really wanted us to stay longer.  Every guest is a blessing, they told us, and they treated us like royalty.  We had a wonderful, relaxing time, and got a first-hand look at some of the intricacies of a Ugandan household.  Although, perhaps they got the better end of the deal, since in the fit of an engrossing conversation, I may have promised them my first-born child.  We'll see how that pans out.

Obviously, there have been tons of other wonderful experiences over here (seeing baby elephants, feeding giraffes and climbing to a volcano being up there).  Mostly though, I'm thankful that the work has been engrossing, and that I have met so many interesting and inspiring people.  I hope you all, in your own way, had a nice, exciting/relaxing holiday, and are ready to start 2012 fresh and stoked for a good year.

Holiday season - the halfway point: what has happened and what is going to happen (Draft)

This was supposed to be a long post about what I've done so far, what I have enjoyed, and especially a bit of a predictive look at what to expect in 2012.

Well, I can report that on Dec. 20th, my apartment was burglarized and my valuables were stolen.  Chief of which was my laptop, which had all the important information that I was going to pass along to you.

So, the Christmas break was a mixture of dealing with the police, decompressing after the infringement of having our abode broken into, and trying to readjust our plans. 

As a silver lining, I have been advised that I have a job offer to work with ICJ Kenya, so hopefully I can arrange things properly, and make the most of this opportunity!!

Hope you all had a good holiday and a happy new year!