Ethnic stereotypes are not necessarily a bad thing -- it's one thing to be stereotyped as liking the good life, as dressing well, wearing the latest Armani suit and scent, driving the latest BMW, having a penchant for speaking the Queen's English or indulging in kuku porno; these are the stuff of bar-room banter, oiling the wheels of social discourse.
I have no quarrel with that. I can see the coy smile on my friend Oti's lips. I doubt Shtan would take offense at the ingokho joke as well (I'll stop it; I swear). The message is usually "come-on, don't take yourself too seriously. Lighten up".
But it's another thing being stereotyped as guilty of all manner of ills, from spitting on the side walk, being "Osama's buddy", speaking in a harsh incomprehensible language (a silly hand-me-down from that colonialist Richard Burton), sitting around all day eating miraa with a kikoi tied round your torso, and having huge amounts of "unexplained" money.
I'd rather be guilty of eating too much ingokho any time. The gurgling noises Marete makes as he imitates my Somali speech, then asking me "what did I say in Somali?; and my witty rejoinder "my aunt is a cow" -- that also I can take. It's good fun, we all laugh and that's it.
Not a cool joke
However, there is nothing to lighten up about being "Osama's buddy". At the height of the hunt for Osama bin Laden, a lecturer in an oral exam had the cheek to ask me if I knew the Al-Qaeda leader. For those who have been through the University of Nairobi's medical school, oral examinations are a trauma.
There are usually three categories of students; those whose performance is outstanding and the examiners are trying to make up their minds whether to give them a distinction or not; those who are in the middle and the oral exam is just a confirmation that you are indeed a C material -- a middling; the third, most-dreaded category and every med-schooler's nightmare is those who are borderline and are a whisker away from failure.
For this hapless lot, the oral exam is either a kiss of death or life -- one mark helps you proceed to the next class and the lack of that one mark can consign you to another year with your juniors or a supplementary exam -- something to be avoided at all cost by any self-respecting, "trans-nighting" med-schooler.
I recently wrote an article for the Sunday Monitor's sister publication -- The East African -- on being a Kenyan Somali at a time of war. The article was in a very jocular tone and touched on issues of identity and negative ethnic profiling of Kenyan Somalis at such a difficult time in our country's history. I have since talked to a number of people and have been in a number of situations to gauge different points of view and experiences.
For many Kenyan-Somalis, the elephant in the room is that of questioned loyalty. This is not something new among minority communities whose kin or co-religionists are seen as aggressors against the mainstream society they reside in. When the USA was at war with Japan following the attacks on Pearl Harbour, the loyalty of Japanese Americans was questioned and many of them had a very rough time to the point of being incarcerated in concentration camps.
Questioned loyalty
Similarly, the loyalty of Kenyan-Somalis is questioned by many. It does not help that such terms as the "enemy within"; the "fifth column"; and, worse still, analogies of odious reptiles are used with abandon. Reptilian analogies -- with long anaconda-like tails buried hundreds of miles away in Somalia and heads in "little Mogadishu" (Eastleigh) -- are particularly unnerving.
The common theme among many is that of anxiety -- the calm before the storm. There are terms in the English language and in popular parlance which are very reassuring, if not benign, to many Kenyans. To most Kenyan Somalis, however, they mean something else altogether. "Security" and "operation" are terrible words to the eyes and ears of a Kenyan Somali. They are akin to shouting 'Fire!' in a crowded cinema hall.
The roots of such mistrust of the terms "security" and "operation" are buried deep in the annals of history -- history that many Kenyans are unaware of, at least until very recently through the auspices of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Things have been made worse by the war on terrorism and recent events, such as the stone-throwing antiques between Muslim youth and other Kenyans in front of Jamia Mosque following the arrest of Jamaican Islamic preacher Sheikh Faisal.
Dreaded words
For me, the words "security operation" conjure up many unpleasant images burnt into a child's mind forever. There are many stories from many Kenyan Somalis on so-called "security operations" -- the Bulla Karatasi Massacre of 1980 in Garissa County, arbitrary arrests and beatings on baseless charges of being Shifta sympathisers, communal punishment for a son or relative gone shifta by torching the family house or entire neighbourhoods, arresting all known relatives and being asked to "produce your bad apple plus his gun".
Similar extrajudicial killings have occurred in Malka Mari, Takaba and other places in Mandera County, and they are well documented, thanks to Ahmed Issack Hassan and other unsung heroes and heroines, such as the indefatigable Annalena Tonneli, a Catholic nun.
In taking a straw poll -- nothing scientific here -- there are those who say they have not been affected in any way by the current state of war. Abdi and his friend, both of whom work in peace building and conflict resolution, say "everything is normal; we have not seen anything unusual, nothing untoward has happened to us or our relatives".
Others speak of a general anxiety and unease. They are waiting and watching, particularly on the soon-to-come security operations in Eastleigh and South C. There are worries that, as has happened before, gold and other valuables for sale in Garissa Lodge and other malls in Eastleigh will be confiscated, never to be returned. Some women have started wearing the niqab, the all-covering face-cloth.
Cambara, a B Comm graduate from India, is amazed at the vitriol on social media sites such as Facebook. She can't believe how former friends, some of whom she has personally helped in kind and financially as struggling students in India, have joined the fray and started calling her and all Somalis "skinny, smelly wariyahes".
I have personally witnessed two incidents of ethnic profiling. I went to the environs of Kenyatta Avenue last week to condole a good friend of mine who lost his mum. Smack in the middle of the CBD, a young Somali man was being led away by what appeared to be plain-clothes policemen. His poor, mournful sister was trudging alongside.
No choice
Everyone was gawking at him and some watchmen by the ATM at Barclays Plaza (where I was) were snickering behind me "hawa watu, hii wariyahe hii" (these Somalis!). The poor chap stood no chance. The following day, as I crossed the road opposite my workplace, Three fellow Kenyans stared at my lunch-box like it was the most lethal of weapons. I nearly ditched the damned thing but thought (wisely in retrospect) that pandemonium would have ensued.
Clearly, these observations are indicative and not generalisable to all and sundry -- what is clear is that there is a lot of anxiety and we need measures to reassure citizens who have done no wrong and who are going about their daily business that all will be well and that they will not be treated unfairly because of their ethnicity.
Let justice be our shield and defender.
Source: The Monitor
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