Conference Failure Series: Statements from Civil Society

When did the civil society conference participants decide that the only way to communicate their powerful statements was to conform to the extremely boring, and largely ineffective, manner of dark-suit-and-tie speeches? When did they decide that their actions on the ground could only be communicated through speeches read in monotone voices standing at podiums? Why did it stop being OK to speak off-the-cuff, about real experiences and not generic ones, using phrases like “sustainable pathways for Indigenous Peoples?” and what are those anyway?!!!

These are my thoughts as I plug away at the back of the room at a CSO consultation on land, one of the most important issues of our time. I am bored to tears, but I have a job to do—to try and get the message out, in the most neutral manner humanly possible, without distorting it. The CSOs make this just too easy. There is nothing said that inspires, nothing said that instigates any form of reaction other than a stifled yawn.

I would like to scream at the Kenyan presenter who knows so much more about the county legislation than his strait-jacket speech has permitted him to say, and at the beautifully coiffed Chadian presenter, who obviously doesn’t know enough about the African women she claims to represent.

We’ve decided that there is only one way to communicate at conferences- a boring, dull way. We are actually unable to participate in “open dialogues.” We cannot imagine a situation where we are invited to actually voice the fears, and challenges, hopes and aspirations of those we claim to represent. We seem to have actively made ourselves the barrier on the bridge between the government and the people. 

It’s not about screaming and shouting on the streets (although that will always have its place), and it’s definitely not about the prosaic speech to fit into what we’ve decided conferences are about. It’s really about remembering our constituents, and speaking for them. But maybe we’ve lost those too… as we line up for our daily subsistence allowances, and forgo attending any discussions not specifically labelled “CSO”—forgetting that this just propagates the business-as-usual scenarios we’re known for preaching against.

And Then We Bought Into The Lie...

...that the system was going to fail anyway, so why not just jump ship. In this quest to allow children (real, or desired) to have a better life than their parents, we began to tear down the system.

Instead of supporting the public education system that had consistently and ably provided us with a decent education, we took our children to international schools, and then sent them abroad. Instead of giving back to the public health system- for the numerous times we had used it to get us back to good- we pumped our hard earned cash into the private health care system (not realizing that it was the same doctors who also consulted and worked within the public health system in our towns and cities).

Instead of maintaining the public garbage system, and the need to keep our streets and neighbourhoods clean, we allowed corruption to seep through the system so badly, that all we have now are relics of the dustbins that once drove around the cities and towns. What we have instead is a host of privatized companies now providing the services we still pay the government for.

But what hurts most is the things we do to ourselves that destroy us. Let me not even get into the rant concerning the cross-country railway line that should have been build 28 years ago, but that is still a pipe dream because some politician (WHO IS STILL HOLDING OFFICE!!!) stole the donor-funding that was earmarked for it. No, let's stick with the less dagger-in-the-back twisting pain that is our road transport. Growing up, my parents and older brothers were full of stories about the buses they took from home to school, and to work, and to church, and to shop. The image of these buses plying any route I know are only an unclear memory in my head. Yet again, this fiend privatization strikes again- causing someone to have a crazy idea that if they can create an elite of matatu-owning people, Kenya would be a better place. So they began- using every mechanism to undermine the government-run transport system, and now we have matatus. It's interesting that the debate about matatus only revolves around replacing 14-seaters, but completely ignores the fact that we had a regulated, affordable system that works, and that we STILL have the vehicles to make that system work again. No, it doesn't- because the very people who destroyed the system (and who are currently reaping the profits from the privatized network of road demons) are the people we elected to create better public policy for us. Did anyone think about the implications for shutting down a public transport system would play out? The number of man-hours lost in traffic (by my very conservative estimation its about 40,000 in the Westlands area only) each day, and what that means for development? The number of lives lost as matatu drivers strive to meet their quotas?
Would it have mattered if they did?

And how did we do this? Well, we didn't speak up when the services began to wane. We didn't raise a furor when the teachers complained about their salaries, or the doctors and nurses complained about the conditions they had to work in. We kept silent when our brothers and sisters in the city councils all over the town became greedy and corrupt, and completely mismanaged the monies we entrusted them with to maintain the cleanliness of our shared spaces. We allowed politicians to politicize the transport system, and systematically shut down every avenue for affordable public transport every Kenyan deserves. Those of us who could bought cars, and those of us who couldn't began to walk in silence.

What kind of citizens are we if we allow the public officials who have failed us to get away scott-free? An Ethiopian friend told me the other day that Kenya is seen as the capitalist utopia of Africa. If this is what we are striving for, and privatization at all costs (and usually at the expense of the 70% who cannot afford this uber expensive private life) is what we are working towards, then we have arrived.

Silence* kills societies that work. But let us not live under the illusion that this is "all we have to work with." That is a lie. It is not. We make these choices every day. In our history in this society-creation we had to do post independence, we made some pretty bad choices. But  it's still our country. We can start making some good ones- good ones for us all, not just a few of us.

*Song by Muthoni, The Drummer Queen