Corruption and Frustration

Nearly every time I drive south down the kibwezi-kitui road from my village of Kisayani to the town of Kibwezi, I get stopped by the traffic police. It is usually the same two men, dressed in their blue uniforms and black leather shoes, with a ticket-book in hand and usually with a stern look on their faces. They are putting on an act, looking for a bribe.

Since there are no cars in Kisayani I take bodabodas (motor-bike taxis) sometimes tripling even quadrupling up with others (sometimes goats too) to share the cost. Usually these drivers don’t have licenses, their bikes may be missing a light or two or aren’t registered and carry too many people. As a result the bodaboda is pulled over. But rather than ticketing the drivers slyly shakes hands with the driver who feeds them a bribe—usually 50bob (~$0.60). They look the other way and let us move on and I get dropped off.

This always boils my blood, and I usually have to restrain myself from saying something stupid and getting myself in trouble. It makes me furious that these policemen tasked with keeping and upholding the law are the very ones making a spectacle of it, sometimes even laughing when I ask them from the back of the motorbike “unafanya nini?” (What do you think you’re doing?). To me, they are stealing from the local people most of them what we could consider ‘poor’ and who don’t make a lot (especially now with the fuel costs so high) and eroding the foundation of law in the country. It is unjust.

"confusion" -- probably not a registered vehicle

While I don’t want to draw a negative picture of Kenya, I still feel the need to tell the truth and share my impressions. I see these injustices everywhere, in almost every level of government and society.

I have seen it on the most basic community level. The community project I am looking at—with ‘Christian’ in it’s name—is showing signs of inequality, corruption and mismanagement. Even the neighboring water project is facing a court case over broken relationships between the community and the project managers. Furthermore, the local District Water Officer is on a sort of ‘leave’ due to quieted accusations of stealing.

The corruption in the Kenyan government travels up the chain to even the highest positions of government. One of the most significant changes to the water project that has come in the past ten years has been the creation of the new Water Act. Amongst a whole heap of changes that went along with an overhaul of the entire water sector was the formulation of Water Service Boards, which are tasked with the responsibility to provide or allocate the provision of water to the people of Kenya.

In fact I just got back from a trip to Kitui where I met with some high level officials in the regional office for the Water Service Board in charge of the area I am in. While they were helpful and open to me, the leading officials in those offices are making headlines for embezzlement of funds exceeding 100 million KSH (more than $1 million) intended to support and construct water projects to serve the poor.

Also gripping the front pages of papers of the local papers are accusations against the Minister of Water herself for corruption.

But it is not only corruption. I see ‘injustices’ in many other places too. The area of Kibwezi has been undergone massive resettlement displacing many people. The very place I am living, the university farm and research station is 16,000 acre plot of land acquired from local people. Just down the road there is another 25,000 acre farm of prime agricultural land usual to grow the cash crop sisal for export. This is all in an area that has been labeled ‘in crisis’ by the UN due to drought and famine and is a recipient of food relief since it is not food-secure.

Two good friends.

As a researcher this is often frustrating and disheartening. I feel powerless, and in fact in almost every sense I am. I am not in a place of authority to correct these wrongs or in a place of power to be a donor to fund some other venture. Yet at the same time I feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility to the people here. Through my interviews, friendships, and daily interactions with people I empathize with their challenges, frustrations and hopes. And in so many ways I want to solve and fix them.

I often also feel a need to blame someone for this. Nearly every story I hear, it is someone (or something) else at fault: the corrupt civil servants, the local project management, the NGOs who seem to have abandoned this project, the massive restructuring of the water ministry that leaves to many grey areas, the local users abusing and misusing the water, the effects of climate change and those of us who unfairly contribute to it, or just the corruption in general which permeates all levels of society. In some sense, none alone are to blame and in another they [we] all are. I am learning a lot about the complexities of poverty, the importance of good leadership and relationships and standing up for what is just.

In the end I have to weed through all of these stories and find a sort of narrative, the story of this project and this community which can answer the research question of what has changed and how is the community adapting. I could have done my research with a survey, passed out 100 copies and returned in a month to pick them up. But instead I am gathering stories and getting involved. So in these last weeks in Kisayani I will soon head to Nairobi to meet with more influential decision makers and policy planners. I am attempting to put together the rest of the loose ends and eventually write a report. I have also made a promise to the community to share my preliminary thoughts on the research which will bring me back to Kisayani for a few days to share. I'm hoping for the right words to say and the ability to say 'I can't solve ___ problem' if needed.

A sentimental shot to close this depressing post