Lunch!!!

Sorry for the long delay in posting.  It has been a fairly busy time over here.  But before I report on that - I mentioned early on (here) that, for about $10 a month, I get lunches everyday at the office.  Here's a photoblog of my weekly eats.  Yum!

Monday:

Rice, red beans, meat stew.  Delectable - the beans and rice by themselves would be good enough to sustain me for years.  The meat stew adds a little bit of heaven.

Tuesday:

Ugali, Sukuma, meat stew and 'spaghetti'.  Ugali is the white block in the picture - made out of maize flour.  It is dense and has the texture of a good pound cake, minus all the sugar.  The sukuma is what they sometimes call 'spinach' here, but is probably closer to kale.  It is slightly bitter, but they cook it with onions, and it goes really well in this meal.  The pasta is a bit of a delicacy to my colleagues.  And the meat stew is the icing on the 'cake'.

Wednesday:

MY FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK: Chapati wednesdays.  Chapati, with pea stew and meat stew.  Seems simple, but east africans have a particular way of making chapatis (different from the way they are made in India), and I find them addictive.  This is a no utensil meal - chapati dipped in sauce.  The meat stew gives it a bit of a kick.

Thursday:

Rice, beans & carrots, cabbage and meat stew.  This is a curious mix, actually.  As above, the rice and beans are so good, I could just eat them non-stop.  But, this time, the cabbage is added, and its crunchy, yet cool and refreshing effect on my palate makes me feel like I could jump up and run a marathon.  The meat stew adds a subtle bit of oomph to the mix.

Friday:

This is much the same as Tuesday's meal - Ugali, sukuma and meat stew.  However, the absence of the spaghetti is covered up by piling on a huge amount of sukuma.  I feel like popeye when I eat all the greens, but it's the meat stew that really builds the muscle.

So, there you go - that is a report from my stomach.  I personally really enjoy the food here.  Especially the more traditional stuff.  I don't have any pictures of my nights out eating Nyama Choma, though, that will have to wait.

ICJ Kenya: Student Duties

OK.  I am writing this late on a Friday night.  I was pondering what I should write about next.  There's been too much news about the Kenyan push into Somalia to root out Al-Shabaab.  At least in the media here (I'm not sure what it's like at home).  But, to be honest, it's slightly depressing, and it is really confusing.  So, I was really hoping to find something else noteworthy from my experiences here.  Sure didn't have to wait that long.

On Thursday night, I was pretty amped up about what Friday was going to bring, as a day at work.  It's not a feeling that comes around often, when work is associated with it, but, to be honest, I'm getting involved in more than a few things that are tickling my fancy.  Thanks to my work monitoring the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission, not only am I hopefully going to continue that work, but I am starting to get involved in researching and writing on the incredibly complex issue of reparations for victims of human rights abuses.  Given the immensity of Human Rights issues that have occurred between independence and present-day, any reparations scheme for Kenya has to be done adequately and appropriately.  So I have volunteered to get involved in working out a plausible reparations scheme for Kenya's situation.

Despite how awesome that might seem, I am also stoked about this secondary issue that seems to have fallen on my lap - helping finalize and implement a Legal Aid scheme in Kenya.  Those of you aware of my past legal shenanigans will know that I spent 2 years working for Law Line, which was a subsidiary of Legal Aid Alberta (and has now been subsumed into it, among the many changes that have occurred).  Anyways, I am a big believer in Legal Aid initiatives.  And for those of you who know me, the only thing I like more than Legal Aid systems is STUDENT Legal Aid schemes.  So, imagine my delight when a coworker decided that he was 100% stoked on working with me to create a student legal aid framework for Kenya.  Call that a pet project.  We'll see how it goes.

Anyways, more on point, I was completely excited about what Friday held in store, and the fact that it was the end of a week and a great time to relax and plan for the future.  I should have taken the torrential rain as a sign.

When I walked into the office, and made my rounds greeting everyone, James, one of the Kenyan interns, asked me if I would like to accompany him to the High Court of Kenya to file a Notice of Motion.  Seemed like a great idea - tag along and take some pictures and get a feel for the Kenyan justice system at work.  Plus, it's something I have a close affinity for, after being a well-worked articling student, who had a fair share of Student Duties (any odd job, ranging from making applications in Chambers, filing documents, to ordering food for afternoon hand out sessions).  Sounded like a great experience, and besides, how hard could it be to file a document?

The current Court House in Nairobi is located in Milimani, across the street from the old Commercial Law Courts.  The new building is quite impressive:

The security system is also pretty good - they confiscated my camera, so unfortunately I was unable to visually record what happened once we got inside the building.

OK.  First I should let you know that a large portion of what follows is owed particularly to a poorly written email.  I think that probably would have saved us an hour of our time.  Maybe two.  But regardless, this is how things shaped up and shook down.

James, Frida and I left in the ICJ-Kenya van, to go to the Court houses to file a Notice of Motion with the Court.  What exactly the Notion of Motion was about isn't such a huge deal, but it is interesting nevertheless:  ICJ-Kenya was preparing an Amicus Brief in order to be an interested party and to provide expert commentary into the issue of immigration and refugee rights.  In particular, the organization has a good background in the rules and issues surrounding extradition.  So we were filing a Notice of Motion to have our time in court to argue why we should help in the extradition proceedings.

We entered the Court, not exactly sure where we should go.  Frida suggested we try the first floor Chief Magistrate's office.  We did.  I noticed on the initial walk-through that this was an incredibly nice courthouse. Far from the cement somberness of North American law courts, this was a vibrant building, with many windows, and open areas (which were later to become waterlogged, once the torrential rain started).  It was bright and bustling.  A legal bazaar.

The first place we checked was a long, narrow room, lined with metal bars, to separate the court clerks from the filing minions.  It was empty, almost sleepy.  The Chief Magistrate's Registry.  After a brief chat with an employee behind the bars, we were directed to go upstairs to the Magistrate Court Criminal, Civil and Traffic Registry office.

This registry office was architecturally identical to the Chief Magistrate's Registry.  Functionally, it was a bit different.  There were about 200 people jammed into the narrow space, jostling for position in front of the metal bars.  Not much different than trying to get a drink at a dance club frequented by all the frat houses.  I couldn't readily discern any particular organizational structure to it - you shoved your way to the front, and waved your document to be filed at the nearest clerk, who did his or her best to act as disinterested as possible.  James wiggles his way to the front, but gets told to move to the other end of the room, where those clerks are in charge of finding the case files associated with whatever you wanted to do.  More wiggling ensues.  People are remarkably pleasant, given that this is a court house, there's a lot of physical contact going on, and little privacy - we hear a man arguing with a clerk about his traffic ticket that he is trying to pay, but they are moving slowly, and he doesn't want to have to spend the night in jail for late payment.

Finally, James gets someone to take our Notice of Motion.  The guy walks away, and we wait.  And wait.  One hour later, the man reappears, and says (a) he can't find the file, (b) he doesn't understand what this Notice is for, and (c) that the file might be in the Old Milimani Commercial Courts, where some of the files for the Magistrate's Court are held.  The Old court house is across the street, so it doesn't seem like a big deal.

We walk across the street, assuming that this should be a bit easier, since there is less going on at the old court house these days.  We enter the registry office, and instead of 200 people, there's 100.  Ok, not bad.  Even better, James recognizes one of the clerks, as a classmate.  We jump from 100th in line, to first.  She finds a file with the same number as ours, but different parties.

Let me fast forward a bit, because the story becomes repetitive.  We go to a total of 5 different offices in the Magistrate's Court area.  Each time we wait, each time the service is dismissive, and each time people can't help us, and direct us somewhere else.

We're now it a slight panic. The last person we talked to told us that they didn't really want to help us, because it was almost lunch break, but directed us downstairs (back to the first place we tried).  It was time to improvise, or be caught in a vicious perpetual cycle in the offices of the Magistrate's Court.  We walked to the other side of the building, to the High Court.  Divine intervention!  The first person we bump into just happens to be involved in the filing department, just happens to recognize the case name, and just happens to be willing to help us out, before going on lunch.  Great!

We find out the following:

• The matter is in the High Court, and not the Magistrate's Court.
• The matter, while being labelled 'miscellaneous', is being dealt with in the Criminal Division, and not the Civil Division.
• The matter is actually two separate matters.
• The matter number that we have is wrong (for either matter), and regardless the numbers have been changed in any event.
• The names of the parties on the matter are spelled wrong and are incomplete.

This is what I meant when I said that the email would have saved us a lot of time.  As it stands, we have some homework to do.  The friendly man gives us until 2pm to get back to him with the stuff.  He's leaving at 3.  The office closes at 4, technically, but it's Friday (I'm not sure if that really explains it, but that's what James tells me).  It's now, after all that, 1pm.  And it takes about 30mins to drive back to the office.  Great.   

Intermission:  While you imagine what kind of lunch I had, I noticed something else at the court house.  Tons and tons of paper, binders and books.  Relatively un-noteworthy, for a legal institution, you might think, but here's the interesting bit.  No computers.  When people look up a case, they grab a book the size of a medium bathroom mirror, and as thick as the fourth Harry Potter book, and leaf through it until they find the handwritten entry.  I ask why they haven't updated to computers (the technology is definitely available in Nairobi, and the Courts are not poor).  James tells me that the employees voted AGAINST technological upgrades.  They were afraid of losing jobs, and, more importantly, from the sounds of it, from losing the large financial bonus of bribes.  But that's an unverifiable, unofficial account of that issue.

Anyways, we arrive back at the court house at 3pm on the dot.  That's right, an hour late, exactly.  It took us 30 minutes to get back to the office, 15 minutes to make the changes and get the documents ready (and eat lunch), 30 minutes for the cab to arrive, and 45 minutes to get back to the court house.  When we get through security and back to our benefactor's desk, he is, of course, nowhere to be found.  The office itself seems like a legal parody movie - rows of wooden desks, stacked eye-high with files and documents, and in the middle of it all, court clerks reading the newspaper, listening to Christian music, or joking with each other.    There has been a lot of attention paid to hiring more judicial officers to help strengthen the judiciary, but I would think that this inefficiency itself contributes to the one-million case backlog and institutional frailty of the Kenyan Courts.  

Nevertheless, we find ourselves in front of a very unimpressed clerk, who, we are told, can stamp our documents for us.  Perfect.  OK, she says, first things first - proof of payment.  We don't have this, and, truthfully, we don't know how much it will cost.  Neither did the office secretary, who gave us 1,000KSh.  The total is 2,810KSh (it's double because the case was split into two actions).  We start to dig in our pockets, but she ushers us out.  We have to pay at the bank.  We go to the bank, and pay (we have, collectively, 75 shillings left between myself and James).  We get our receipts.  We go back.  No, we get sent to deliver copies to the court cashier.  No, we need 4 copies of the receipt.  No, there aren't any photocopiers here we can use, or even pay to use.

We run across the street to find a copier.  I look at my watch - 3:45pm.  We have 15 minutes before the Court closes.  We start running.  The Copying Shop is small and cozy, and very efficient (-25KSh).  We run back.

We wait in front of the Cashier's desk - which is located in the same Magistrate's Registry Office where there was the 200 person scrum earlier in the day.  It has quieted down now.  It is even easier to hear the man arguing with the clerk, still trying to pay his traffic fine, so he doesn't have to spend the weekend in jail.  We look through the peephole at the cashiers, who are standing around, chatting.  There are a stack of receipts waiting to be processed, and there are five other people waiting around with us, seething.  This is dead time.  No amount of cajoling can get the cashiers to work any faster (or work at all, in some cases).  4:00pm.  James catches the man's attention.  I don't catch what he says, but he manages to sound pleasant.  We get the receipt of the receipt.

We sprint back to the clerk's office.  It is empty.  Except for our lady.  The look in her eyes is even less friendly.  4:09pm.  She stamps the documents.  

We breathe.  It starts to rain.  We call our taxi driver, and when he arrives, a clerk runs out into the rain, asking if he can ride with us, making a point of reminding us how helpful he was for us.  A favor for a favor, right?  James slams the door shut and we drive off.  

We arrive back in the office at 4:45pm.  One day, one task, 6 hours.  Welcome to the practice of law in Kenya.

Newsflash

Bit of disturbing news coming down the pipe.

If you haven't heard, there were a few aid-workers kidnapped near the Somalian border just over a week ago.  This is an area that is ravaged by drought and famine at this particular time, and while it has been called the 'Crisis in the Horn of Africa', the Somali-Kenyan border is probably where the major issues are - the environmental catastrophe meets human suffering, with not only issues of drought and famine, but also huge numbers of refugees and major health issues including cholera outbreaks, etc. It is a major humanitarian crisis, now exacerbated by the kidnapping of aid-workers.

Apparently, the terrorist group Al-Shabaab has been blamed for the kidnappings, although I am not aware of this being confirmed.  Regardless, the Kenyan response was unequivocal.  Almost immediately after the Kenyan Army moved into Somalia, Al-Shabaab threatened retaliation for Kenya's military action.

From the sounds coming out of the media today, it looks like Al-Shabaab has started to retaliate, attacking a nightclub and a bus stop in the same day in Nairobi. Of course, there has been no direct link to Al-Shabaab, so we will have to wait and see how things progress over the next few days.

I had an interesting conversation with my colleagues about the situation - they all tended to support the initiative against Al-Shabaab, which has been a major cause of conflict at the Somali-Kenyan border, and has hindered aid and assistance to the refugees and citizens that are suffering there.  I suppose I cannot fault that logic.  They educated me on the fact that Kenya's army was 'untested', and probably useless.  It seemed that there was the opinion that this was an excuse for the politicians to be involved in some exciting military operation (knowing that next year is an election year).  I did ask them, though, how they thought this campaign, with the possibility of retaliatory attacks, would affect Kenya's tourism industry, which is the second-largest industry in Kenya.  They agreed that it would probably harm the tourism industry, despite what the government said.  However, they pointed out something that I had not ever considered - politicians don't really care about the tourism trade, because the people that suffer, if it decreases, are the common people and not the politicians.  That was a slightly heartbreaking sentiment.

Before you start worrying, I am staying safe and smart.  While the news articles above do not embellish the accounts of the attacks, I hope you remember that I am staying in a suburb of Nairobi, and realistically, would not have known about these attacks if my dad hadn't sent me a link.  The days move forward.  I am, and will be, fine.  My thoughts are with those who are not, and my hopes are pinned on a swift end to this conflict.

Intermission: Downpour

In what started as a pleasant, if cool, day, I am now trapped in a trendy cafe, sipping masala chai and patrolling the information superhighway, while rain buckets from the clouds.  Seems like a good time to reflect, since there isn't much to engage with, at this point in time.

This period of time, or 'season', if you can call it that, is what my friends in Nairobi refer to as the light rain season.  Intermittently, it will pour rain for about an hour or two, before clearing up.  The rain is much different than what normally occurs on the west coast of Canada (cold weather, windy, humid, unpleasant, dreary), where one still goes on with what was planned for the day.  Here, when the initial drops start to fall, there is an imperative to get to shelter, as soon as possible.  The weather stays nice, there's a slight breeze, and the water falls from the clouds like one giant shower head.  But walking outside is virtually impossible.

So, I've sequestered myself into an artsy cafe, managed to stake out a spot with an electrical outlet, and am abusing my wireless internet privileges as much as possible.

Nairobi is an incredibly difficult city for me to capture.  It feels massive, in terms of physical size.  It is large, in terms of population (3-4million).  And there is something oddly disorienting about it.  Perhaps it is the lack of concrete addresses.  Perhaps it is the multitude of curving streets, especially the ones that seem to arbitrarily change names.  Possibly it's the fact that there are no distinct boundaries between different districts in town (I was once taken on a meandering taxi ride, when I said that 'Gitanga Rd. was in Kileleshwa', when it is actually in Lavington (but not Lavington Estate).  Either that or I got ripped off.  Maybe both.  Regardless, one of the main things that disorients me is the traffic - there is just so much of it, and it's hard to fathom where people are going, much less where they are coming from.

The city itself has a curious mix of greenery, concrete, and squalor:

• I have only driven past the Kibera Slum, at this point, but if one does not look for it, one would not notice it.  It is nestled in between a golf course, and a section of town full of seemingly nice apartments.  Nevertheless, it is there, an expansive tin-roofed, tin-sided, red dirt maze.
• The trees and bushes are more than just cosmetic here - often they are the thorny security and privacy mechanisms for apartments and houses.  Whatever they are used for, the greenery is lush.
• Concrete is, however, slowly taking over Nairobi.  The Central Business District has the same layout and feel of any metropolitan city, with Uhuru and Central Park standing in stark contrast to the overdeveloped sections of the Business District.  A glimpse of the outskirts of downtown see masses of greenery bulging, as if it looks like the forests and shrubs are doing their best to reclaim the red dirt from the cement.
• Even in the suburbs, there are signs everywhere of development - more apartments, more shopping centres.  And the apartments and shopping centres that already exist are building themselves upwards.  The buildings are all concrete and brick - the skeletons of new buildings are all iron bars with poured concrete and stacked bricks.  A far cry from the wooden frames of new houses and the steel structures of new buildings in Canada.

In my location and working area, the predominant kind of people I see are upper class urbanites.  But even then, they come in all shapes.  Colourful headscarves, designer jeans, skinny jeans, baggy jeans, baseball hats, suits.  Junction, the mall I'm writing this from, has a curious mix of Kenyans, Indians, Wazungu, and everything that falls in between.  It makes for some interesting people watching.  It's readily apparent that it is mainly the North Americans (I am making assumptions based on skin colour, style of dress, and a few other things) that have a propensity to (a) hang out on their own, (b) spend the most time on laptops, and (b) dress the most 'out of context'.  Of which, I am probably a perfect prototype right now.  Everyone else comes in groups of 2-9, the conversations are loud and lively, and there are children everywhere.  In fact, it's very difficult to see any Kenyan walking alone here.  I wish I had an entourage, at this point.  Besides, everyone here seems to be very good looking.  It's a good vibe.

It is also clear that hiring 'house help' here is an accepted practice among the more well off.  Even in our apartment building, instead of a coin-operated washing machine, people hire domestic help to do the laundry, by hand.  Dish washers don't seem to be common-place here, either.  And, there really doesn't seem to be the same attention paid to furniture here - especially when it comes to beds.  Even the beds shown on Kenyan soap operas don't seem particularly comfortable.  What an incredibly first-world observation.  

As I get slowly more comfortable with Kiswahili, and start to pick out words and phrases in conversations, there are a few things that are becoming noticeable.  First, people love to talk.  About anything.  Explaining how one goes about buying groceries has turned into a 30-minute conversation.  A favorite topic at work is what are the necessary and sufficient conditions for a good relationship/marriage.  That topic makes everyone laugh, a lot.  

Second, people expect everyone to contribute.  This is interesting for me, because my natural tendency is to just sit and listen, and occasionally weigh in with my opinion.  And often, when chatting with friends in Canada, we tend to wait until invited to speak, to put forth our opinions.  Here, friends have mentioned that I am 'too quiet' - not as a criticism, just as a recognition that I'm different.  They, on the other hand, have no problems expressing their opinions about everything, at any time.  This makes me slightly uncomfortable - in Canadian culture, often a controversial opinion will kill a conversation.  Here, the opinions flow freely, and from all areas of the spectrum. The ingredient that dispels conflict is laughter.  It is always close to the surface.

Finally, the hand is a predominant cultural tool.  High fives, hand shakes and hand gestures abound.  Waving hello is exuberantly done. Firm, business-like handshakes are rare - more often, it's a soft handslap, followed by a hand clasp, followed by the thumbs meeting each other, and flicking past each other.  I have re-read that sentence and realize that, unless you've actually experienced something like this, that entire description seems meaningless.  You'll just have to ask me to show you, sometime.  Nevertheless, it is an ever-present facet of social interaction.  It makes me feel like being in Kenya is like being part of a vast sports team.  It's a good feeling.

Also, hand gestures form a vital part of non-verbal communication.  I haven't figured out exactly when people use certain hand gestures, but I haven't seen one that expresses anything negative (although I'm sure flipping the bird means the same thing here as at home).  There is hand waving, double hand waving, hand slapping, knee-slapping, hand flicking, fist-slapping, karate chops, hand to hips, hand to heart, hand to face, hand to head.  I have a feeling that if I participated in a conversation with my hands in my pockets, there would be a lot of miscommunication.

OK.  The sun has set.  The music is hard core reggae/rap.  And I'm needing to buy food for the week.  Check back in later on this week for more stories about my work here.

Lodwar, Turkana County

For the past three days, I was in Lodwar, which is in Northern Kenya.  The Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC) was holding hearings in this district, and ICJ-Kenya tagged along to monitor the process, write up a report, and get a sense of what types of issues are affecting the communities in this area.  It was something of a full body experience to say the least.  Read nicely written pieces on the issues brought up during the TJRC hearings here and here - they are good highlights of some of the main issues affecting this area.  As you will read, the issues that the communities in this area have faced are markedly different from what has happened in other areas of the country.  There was no real conflict associated with post-election violence.

But more on that later.  Let me try and describe Lodwar, with pictures to follow.

Getting to the airport was more of an issue than I thought it was going to be.  My flight was at 10:30am, so I showed up at the office at 8am, picked up a few things and was patiently waiting for the driver to get ready.  Everything seemed fine.  Apparently it wasn't, and the driver, Musyoka, with skill, poise, and a touch of insanity, managed to get me to the airport on time.  I just wish he'd stayed on the road all of the time.

Our plane was a Dash-8 16-seater.  Three people on the plane crossed themselves as we took off for our first stopover in Kitale.  I'm glad someone did.  Nairobi is a fertile, mostly green area - flying into Kitale, it was clear that this land was even more bountiful, with beautiful tall trees, and green everywhere.  The plane made a sickening cracking/crunching sound as it touched down, but no one seemed to notice.  I thought it was quaint that the Kitale 'Airport' was just a small building, the size of a 2 bedroom bungalow, in the middle of nowhere.  I never thought to consider what Lodwar's would look like.

After a short delay, we were off again.  I took a glimpse at the rolling hills and greenery, and fell asleep.  I awoke to the sound of my stomach turning, as the Dash-8 slipped, dipped and shuddered through the clouds, on its descent into Lodwar.  A quick glance out of the window was a stark reminder of where I was heading - an entirely different setting, if not a different planet.  Yellowish sand, as far as the eye could see, with spindly lines of greenery sparsely lining areas where streams may have been, ages ago.  Miniature goat corrals were sprinkled around, long ago abandoned to the sand.  How any plant survives is an absolute mystery to me.

We land in Lodwar, safely.  There are children on the tarmac, running after the plane.  The airstrip is a plank of asphalt on sand, surrounded by barbwire fence.  A small rectangular hut is the 'airport'.  The first step out of the airplane is like the surge of heat from pouring gasoline on a fire.  I pause, my face instantly breaks out in sweat, but my rear is still heavily air conditioned.  It is one of the strangest feelings I've ever experienced.  I instantly regret wearing shoes.  The temperature will be, on average, between 35-40 degrees.  And hotter when the wind blows, oddly.  At night, it cools off to around 28 degrees.  24-hour Bikram's Hot Yoga.

We drive the very short distance to our hotel, drop our bags, buy water, and head to the hearings, where we spend the rest of the day, sweating.

The heat does strange things to my physical functioning.  I lose my appetite, I am very, very tired, and I have trouble focusing.  The hearings pass by as if in a dream.  An elder, a Mzee, is testifying about the conflict between the Turkana people and the Pokot.  There has long been a history of Cattle Raids between the two groups, but the influx of illegal arms in the mix has turned traditional 'coming of age' theatrics into deadly pillaging.  He gives specific examples of the brutal outcomes.  Yet somehow, in the midst of his stories, in what one of the audience will tell me is 'real wisdom', he spins his tales in such a way that the entire room is laughing uproariously.  Afterwards, I give him a respectful handshake (clutching my right arm with my left) and thank him for his testimony. I'm not crying, it's just sweat pouring down my face, but I'm awed.

Lunch is fried meat, sukuma (kind of like spinach), and chapatis.  More importantly, ice-cold Fanta Orange.  The sugar-rush hits me hard.

During the afternoon sessions, I hear one witness describing his experiences as a 14 year old boy, surviving an air raid.  His town was bombed in 1989.  He mentions how he returned to his village after the bombs dropped; he sees charred bodies, entrails hanging from smoking tree limbs, and a crater where his house used to be.  His community is never informed who the perpetrators were - they find out during their research for the TJRC hearing that the newspapers reported that Uganda airplanes bombed Lokichoggio.  But to what aim?  I am stunned.  The sugar rush is gone and everything feels very, very heavy.  He respectfully asks the commission to recommend a full investigation and report to be made into the bombing, and that compensation and a monument be made about the incident.  There is no rage, no anger, no blame, only questions.

We have missed dinner.  I chug a litre of water and eat a chapati.  It is enough.  I have a shower, but forgo toweling off, and go to bed, sopping wet.  I sleep.  My sink doesn't work.

The next morning, my ICJ colleague and I go to the Women's Hearings.  There is one male present (the cameraman), so I slip in.  The women are singing.  Loudly.  It is captivating.  I become painfully aware of my  male-ness.  Luckily, a TJRC staffer, rescues me, and takes me to the in camera (private) hearings.  There are 9 people, including myself, in the room.  This is the same room where 500 people were listening to witnesses testifying.  Today the audience is just me.  I become painfully aware of my non-Kenyan-ness.  I am allowed to stay, but the commissioners make a point, at the end of the session, to remind people that only authorized people are allowed to attend the in camera hearings.  I sweat more, if that's possible.

We return to the site of the singing ladies.  My colleague and I unfortunately miss an opportunity to get driven to Lake Turkana, the 'Jade Sea' of the North.  Instead, we are back at the Lodwar Lodge, where I find all my belongings moved to a different room.  The sink works in this one, but the toilet doesn't.  In fact, it is leaking.  I am very self-conscious about this wasted water, in this land of drought and famine.  Perhaps suffering from heat-induced mental instability, I attempt to jiggle the leaking bits, somehow thinking it will stop.  The drip turns into an outright waterfall.  I scramble out of the room.  They find me another room.  This one has a pit toilet and a bucket.  Much better.

On our way back to the lodge, we cross paths with a Kenyan man who is working on a laptop.  He greets us and his handshake is firm, but oddly, he doesn't seem to want to let go.  We introduce ourselves, and it turns out that he works for Kenya Red Cross.  He is a Medical Officer providing relief services to the drought and famine victims.  He is jovial and affable, but his eyes are haunted.  He tells us that 5 km out of town, families are sitting under trees, and dying.  He tells us he has no idea how to help most of these people.  Yet, he tells us that somehow, everything he sees defies expectation.  He says that medical evidence says that a person will die after 2 days without water, yet he sees women and children surviving for over a week without water.  With great empathy and respect, he tells us of the determination of survival, and of the ultimate acts of altruism that occur on a daily basis.  He is humbled.  So am I.  We both feel the urge to return to Nairobi.  I don't know how to feel about that.

The next day, there is a 4-hour wait before the flight leaves.  I pack my stuff, and set the intention to wander around and try and capture life in Lodwar in snaps.  I make it about 100 metres out of the hotel, and am so overwhelmed by the heat, the sand, and my sweat, that I quickly take a few pictures and retreat, beaten.  I watch a Kevin Bacon movie and meditate.

As the plane takes off, the oppressive heat melts away.  I look back, and reflect.  The very first person we met in Lodwar asked if we were coming from Kenya.  Amused, we replied, "yes, but where are you coming from?" "I am from Turkana".  This is a different place, a different land.  The memory is seared into me.

The County Councillor had asked, pointedly, "Why has our government forgotten about us? Where are they when the Ugandans, Ethiopians and Sudanese raid our livestock, kill our young men and rape our women?  Where is OUR aid?  Our we not as deserving of aid as the refugees?  We are dying from hunger and disease too.  Why has our government forgotten about us?"

I don't know.  I can't forget about this.

Feverish ramblings

Hi.  I am sick.  But, not to worry, I do not have malaria (or typhoid, for that matter).  I really hope that I do not have man flu. Most likely it is a stomach bug from the copious amounts of nyama choma (aka street meat) I have been ingesting while on the road.  It is just so tasty.  But I am laid low, for the time being.

This is unfortunate, as I am missing an opportunity to travel to Meru - ICJ-Kenya is sending a group of people up there on a 'community outreach' mission - to help educate the community about human rights, and other legal matters.  They will be taking about 10,000 of these:

These are pocket-sized 'katibas' (Constitutions).  I had the pleasure of touring around Narok, and handing loads of these out to public institutions - a University, the District Commissioner, the Law Courts, and to various individuals.  It was an overwhelmingly positive experience.  People are extremely excited about getting their hands on these.  What a sharp distinction from Canada - I can imagine handing out pocket Charters to random people on the street, and hoping that they at least recycle them. At the same time, access to this information is so much more readily available to Canadians - internet access in Nairobi is of a high standard, but not in any of the other places I have been to since.

As a town, Narok is a pleasant, bustling little hub in the middle of the Great Rift Valley.  It has a steady stream of 'Mzungu Caravans', as it is a popular launching point for people that pay the money to go on a game drive in the maasai mara.  I'll have to wait until next time to see that, though.

On the ride back, I did get a chance to snap the "World's smallest Church" (although Google is telling me that this is not true).  Regardless, it is tiny.  It seats 2, uncomfortably.

It was built by Italian prisoners during World War 2.  The road they built is pretty good too.

Otherwise, here are some more thoughts on a few things I have notice over here:

• The International Criminal Court Confirmation Hearings grind on.  Every second of the hearing is being captured on TV.  This is strange for many different reasons. most notably the ICC processes are quite different than normal Criminal Courts, which means that, for me, I'm not always entirely sure what is going on (and to be honest, sometimes the lawyers themselves seem unsure).  I can only imagine what the average Kenyan is getting from these broadcasts.  In fact, it is quite apparent that some of the Defendants are using the whole process for political gain (i.e. to enhance their presidential candidacy).  The ramifications for this confirmation hearing are MASSIVE.  If you don't know what 2008 PEV means, then learn about it here.  The 6 accused that are facing ICC charges are supposedly the 'most responsible' for a conflict that traces some of its roots all the way back to Kenya's independence.  However, the 2008 PEV was on a scale that has never been seen in Kenya's history - over 1,000 killed, over 600,000 internally displaced.  That second number is so big it is unfathomable.  And 'internally displaced' is a nice way of saying 'forcibly evicted from their own property'.  From my small experience with the TJRC hearings, there were countless abuses suffered by men, women and children arising out of the 2007 elections.  So, the question I have is, if any or all of the 6 are found guilty, is justice done?  It seems like this is a serious question for the majority of Kenyans.
  
  That's a picture of an IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) Camp, above, where tens of thousands of people lived.
• Kenyan statistics - the country is roughly the size of Texas and the population is between 34-40 million, depending on what Google seems to think is more relevant.  That means more people than live in Canada are packed into Texas.  And, honestly, when driving through Kenya, parts of it seem as empty as driving through the Prairies.  It is a fascinating landscape, especially in the Great Rift region.
• Partially, one of the reasons I am focused on the 'African situation' in this post, if you can call it that, is because I'm reading this book.  It is a fantastic book.  If you're interested in Africa, you wonder about what you can do to help, or get involved, please read this book first.  As they say, pesa nyingi, shida nyingi.

Thanks for keeping up to date on my goings-on over here.  I have it on good authority that I will be joining a soccer team here in short order.  Stay posted for that!  Plus, I'll be getting better in no time.  Baadaye!

TJRC – Truth, Truth and more Truth

This is less of a blog post, and more of a debrief session.  I spent Monday and Tuesday in Naivasha, to attend the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission hearings.  I got to hear 5 witness testimonies.  It was eye-opening, gut-wrenching, among other things.  I wasn't informed as to whether I could take pictures, so I'll try and get some pictures when I attend the TJRC in Narok this weekend.  Here's a rundown of what I heard:

1.  Somali Community - Land issues, forcible evictions, homes destroyed, attacked by people 'using the government as an umbrella', women and children assaulted, livestock destroyed, denial of citizenship (inability to get ID, birth registration).  In 2006, received a 'Letter of Allotment', giving them some of their land back.  Land taken over anyways by government institutions.  Somalis were discriminated against during the 'Shifta' issues in the 1970s (even in Naivasha, which is far from Northern Kenya).

2.  Children Services Community Worker - Issues of Forced Labour, Child Defilement, Child Prostitution, Forced Marriages, Female Genital Mutilation, and Child Trafficking.  Shocking reports on Child Labour in Kenyan Flower Farms.  Hugely underfunded/supported by the government.

3.  Maasai Community - Issues of Land claims, forced evictions, discrimination, 2005 aerial attacks by the government - while they were fleeing, soldiers came and raped their women and children. No investigation done.  Geothermal Powerplant - encroaches on their land, steam vents affect their land, kill their livestock, and probably affect the health of the Maasai as well - no compensation, no oversight.

4.  IDP Coordinator (Internally Displaced Peoples) - Issues:  Forced evictions, Loss of life, tribalism (through political incitement), loss of livelihood, resettlement - 1992, 1997 and 2007 evictions...this has been an ongoing trend.

5.  Nagati Farmers Association - Some land claim issues.  But, to be honest, this witness stood up at 8pm, and my mind was in no state to adequately comprehend anything further.

That is a really short synopsis of the testimony.  The first hand accounts of some of the violence and injustices that have occurred were at times overwhelming.  There is a lot for me to wrap my head around, these days, so hopefully my head is up for the challenge.

As a nice bonus to attending the TJRC hearings, I was able to drive through the rift valley on the way to Naivasha...

...and today is National Freedom of Information day here.  I attended a press release with some colleagues, where we advocated for an open and transparent government.

And, I should take time to mention the passing of Wangari Maathai, who died yesterday.  She was a national hero and an international sensation, and if you have a spare moment, you should read her book "Unbowed: A Memoir".  It's a great look at her life, and an interesting illustration of some of the issues that have affected Kenya over the years.

Off to Narok for Friday.  Maybe some climbing this weekend, alafu, rest.

Of a Rare Sort of Passion, If You Can Call It That

The past week has been full-on.  I am definitely not complaining, but it is a bit unfortunate for those of you who are hoping this post will be filled with cultural insights and the mysterious nature of Nairobi, the “New York of East Africa”.  Instead, it will be a look at work and the law, smattered with a few other random oddities.

For those of you curious enough, or perhaps just for my own archiving, here’s snapshot of work:  The ICJ Kenya office is located on Vihiga Road, in Kileleshwa, a district west of Nairobi’s central business district.  Kileleshwa is probably what you would describe as a ‘suburb’, in the sense that it is largely a ‘residential’ district, complete with gated-off compounds.  The main difference is, of course, the absence of cul-de-sacs filled with identical vinyl-sided houses with two-car garages and basketball hoops.  The neighborhood is lushly green.  There are randomly interspersed grocery huts.  The roads are inconsistent, at best.  And inserted amongst the residential compounds are organizations like the Kenyan Council of Religious Leaders, the Swedish Society of Dentistry, and the Kenyan Section of the International Commission of Jurists.  Here’s what our office (house) looks like:

Inside the house, there are just over 20 employees and volunteers, busy at work.  The work day starts at 8am(ish) and finishes at 5pm(ish).  The pace is fast, and at any given time, people are in and out of the office, holding meetings, attending conferences, preparing media releases, researching points of international law, and having tea.  For my own part, I work in an area of the house (office), affectionately termed ‘Siberia’, either because it’s isolated, or because it’s the coldest area of the house.  ‘Cold’, in this case, is perfectly balmy for me.  We all pay one thousand Kenyan Shillings (KSh1000 = ~$11Cdn) a month, and get served freshly cooked lunches.  I’ll take some pictures of the lunches for the next blog post.  It’s amazing food.  We also drink tons of tea. Tons.

And we work.  I have been assigned to work with the Human Rights Protection Programme, one of four major programmes that ICJ Kenya administers (the others are Access to Justice, Democratization, and International Cooperation).  I work with three other people, at the moment – Roselyn, the Program Director, an extremely nice person – she got her law degree in Manchester, and has a hint of a British accent; Denis, a volunteer who just recently got his law degree; and Laura, an American who works with ICJ Kenya and one of its donors.  The HRPP is currently working on three main initiatives – Transitional Justice, which includes grassroots level training of paralegals in rural communities on human rights issues and advocacy; Constitutional Implementation, which is focused on monitoring the developments and legislations that Kenyan’s government works towards, and making sure they all adhere to the new Bill of Rights; and Monitoring the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC).

The last week, I focused mainly on helping the HRPP by doing Bill Reviews – analysing, and at times proofreading some of the proposed new laws that the government is trying to pass.  The new Constitution of Kenya ambitiously set deadlines for new legislation to be created (many of the laws are extremely important).  Of course, the deadline for a lot of the laws was one year (or, right now).  Conceptually, this was very good, because it guarantees that some of the most important legislation gets enacted before the next governmental elections in December 2012.  Practically, I’m not so sure, because the new laws, at least to my eye, tend to be hastily drafted, and the possibility for mistakes and errors to creep in is very, very high.  That’s where we come in, I suppose, to highlight the weaknesses and problems with these proposed laws, and hopefully to effect changes that help the governance of the country generally, and in a way that protects and promotes human rights.  That’s a pretty lofty goal.  

This week, I get involved with the TJRC Monitoring project.  This is very exciting.  The TJRC was set up based on the recommendations of the Waki Report, and at past UN Secretary General Kofi Annan’s behest, to look into the systematic violence and human rights violations between the period of 1963 (the Mau Mau Rebellions) and February 2008 (the Post-election violence).  The goal of the TJRC is to investigate the causes of some of the worst human rights violations in Kenya, to provide a forum for victims and perpetrators to make public declarations about what happened, and, ultimately, to make recommendations to the Government of Kenya about how to prevent similar atrocities from happening, to provide reparations for victims and a few other things.  If you’re interested, learn more about it here.  Our role in monitoring the TJRC is to make sure that it is living up to its mandate, to record the types of issues that it deals with, and to make sure the TJRC system is not compromised.  The nice thing about the TJRC is that it is mobile – the hearings are held all over the country.  So, on Monday I will be travelling to Naivasha for a 2 day hearing, accompanied by Laura.  Naivasha is in the rift valley – where some of the worst post-election events occurred.  It also happens to be a scenic place, so I’ll try and take some nice pictures.  On Friday I will be off to another TJRC hearing in Narok, which is a bit further west, and on Oct. 10^th, I will be flying up to Lodwar, in Northern Kenya.  It will be a great opportunity to learn and experience different areas of Kenya.  The TJRC hearings were supposed to have finished in August, but they have been extended for a few more months.

Otherwise, what else has been going on?  Well, I generally have been walking to work, or taking a taxi when I’m lazy.  I will get used to the matatus here soon, but I’m in no rush.  The Mountain Club of Kenya is supposed to be holding a beginner’s climbing session next weekend, so Chelsea and I will check that out.  On Saturday, I attended ICJ Kenya’s 2011 Inter-University Debate on Freedom of Information.  It was really interesting to see how involved the students are in these types of debates.  It was also our first time in the Central Business District of Nairobi.  I wandered around.  It’s a big city, there’s a lot more wandering around to do.  I saw central park, dedicated to “Papa Moi”, and Uhuru (freedom) Park, made famous by the Nobel Peace Prize winning Wangari Maathai.  And, at the end of the day, we and a few colleagues went out for some Nyama Chomo, Bia, and EPL.  That is, Meat Eating, Beer, and Soccer.  And, later on, an impromptu dance party.  I feel like we dispelled some myths about Mzungus and dancing, maybe.  Fantastic.

Departure, Interlude, Arrival, Trepidation, Retreat!

Finally, after long preparations, I have arrived in Nairobi!  Here’s a quick recap of the last two weeks:

Immediately prior to leaving, I went on a glorious hiking trip in the Rockies.  It was a wonderful way of decompressing after a busy year, and a great way to get rejuvenated before a new adventure.  And, as it happened, a perfect time to get engaged! But that is a story for another time.

I flew out of Canada on Sep. 9^th, 2011.  Instead of heading directly to Kenya, however, I was able to meet up with my family, who were visiting Poland.  It was a short trip – 3 days – but it was great to spend a little bit of time in Europe visiting with family, and it was also a good way of dealing with the first few days of jet lag.  A beautiful day in the Royal Park in Warsaw, listening to a live performance of Chopin in Chopin’s birthplace was just the type of relaxation that was needed to break up the long journey from North America to Europe, and Europe to Kenya.

I headed down to Nairobi on a red-eye flight that arrived on Sep. 14^th, 2011, at 6:30am.  I had been informed by ICJ Kenya that their driver was unavailable to pick me upfrom the airport, but that taxis were ‘mostly safe’.  In fact, I did not notice any safety problems at all, although I’m certain that I paid at least double of what it should cost for a taxi from the airport.  My haggling skills are non-existent, especially after a 9 hour flight.  Oh well.

Initial observations of Nairobi, on the drive in:

• I love the red earth here – I feel like it has a particular smell (apart from the various smells of the city – garbage, diesel,sweat, food, asphalt, perfumes) that is somehow heavy, spicy and slightly burnt, and generally very inviting.
  
• There are people everywhere – not necessarily in huge groups, but that everywhere you look, there are two people walking here, a person napping under a tree there, etc. From the fringes of the city by the airport, to the bustle of the city centre, there are no empty streets (just busier and quieter ones).  A sharp contrast from driving from the airport into, say, Edmonton or Victoria.
  
• Traffic is CONGESTED.  But relatively orderly.

The drive took about an hour.  I have no pictures because the cab driver and I were talking non-stop about what makes a successful marriage (it was on a radio program, and was not a topic choice I would have chosen, but there you go).  I went directly to ICJ Kenya, because (a) that’s what I wanted to do, and (b) I had no idea what the address of my apartment was.  Turns out it was a good decision, because ICJ Kenya was in the midst of going on a 3 day retreat to Brackenhurst, a resort near Limuru.

Just before we headed out to the retreat, though, the office was bustling with work – turns out that the Secretariat from the International Criminal Court was paying a visit to ICJ Kenya to host a meeting with Civil Society Organizations.  They were discussing the upcoming decisions on the“Ocampo 6” case, which was investigating the roles of 6 major members of the government in their involvement in the Post-Election Violence from the December 2007 elections, which were marred in election fraud, massive amounts of rioting, and where many people died, more were injured and hundreds of thousands of people were displaced from their homes. (Read more about the PEV here and about the ICC investigation and trial here and here).  I was in no condition to participate in this meeting, unfortunately, so I cannot report directly on what happened – from the sounds of it, the meeting was a nice opportunity to meet with the ICC, and for the CSOs to voice a few of their questions and concerns associated with the investigations and trials.

Right after that, we head out to the resort in a van.  The retreat was planned to be first, a way of relaxing and bonding between employees, and second, a review of ICJ Kenya’s 2011 Strategic Plan, complete with Program reviews and reports, and lively discussion about current and future projects. Can you imagine a better introduction to an organization than (a) learning about exactly everything that they have been doing and what they hope to be doing, (b) meeting the entire office in one fell swoop, (c) participating in team-building games every day, and (d) relaxing under the sun, in a resort, with tea and good chats?  I can’t.  The only part that was slightly awkward was the impromptu bonfire dance competition. I really, really lost.

When we were finished, we drove back to Nairobi, where I met up with a fellow CBA intern, Chelsea Thomas (her blog), and wound up the night watching movies about samurais and cowboys.

So, in summary, there was a LOT of relaxation and general goodness over the last two weeks, sprinkled with exciting times.  I highly recommend it.

Soon, soon.

My tickets have been booked, and all the preparations (hopefully) have been prepared.  Now, I am just waiting and finding a few more things to keep me occupied in the meantime.  And trying to deal with the ever growing excitement.

To be honest, the last month has been much busier than I thought possible.  I had many hopes of lounging in the beautiful Edmonton summer, reading books about Kenyan culture, practicing Swahili on my unsuspecting loved ones and friends, and otherwise enjoying all the things Alberta has to offer.

In reality, I moved from task to task, and had to be very careful with time management.  My unemployment required large amounts of business acumin!  I had to organize movers, fight with a cell phone company (that will remain nameless), cancel all the 'essential' services that were taking money from me on a monthly basis, pack up years of accumulated stuff (re: junk), put it in a container, watch it get shipped off to the horizon, and, to top it all off, spend 12 hours scrubbing down a 2 bedroom apartment.  Not exactly glamorous.  But I am feeling very relaxed now that all the tick boxes in the checklist are filled in.

Despite that, I have learned a little more of what I will be doing, and have started to come to grips with what you could call the 'legal climate' in Kenya.  That may be putting it a little too strongly - I have a vague notion of a small number of key legal issues in Kenya, and I'm aware that I am barely scratching the tip of that iceberg.  What I am looking forward to is getting more accustomed to and aware of the general legal framework there, especially in the area of human rights.

To that end, it was with great enthusiasm that I found out that I will be working primarily with the Human Rights Protection Programme of ICJ Kenya.  I think that one of my main tasks in helping the HRPP will be to provide commentary on, review and research developments in Kenyan Constitutional Law.  This is fascinating work, generally, and is especially interesting given the fact that Kenya has a one (1) year old constitution. How this constitution is implemented, followed and respected will have major implications for Kenya as a democratic nation, especially with regards to being governed under the Rule of Law.

Just to pump myself up on that note - a light read from the Law Society of BC regarding the Rule of Law, and its place in society:  http://ow.ly/6jh5V.  Enjoy!