CULTURE-KENYA: The Last Stand Against Modernity

By IPS Correspondents Reprint | | Print |

Joyce Mulama

NAIROBI, Sep 30 2003 (IPS) - When prominent personalities die in Kenya, modernity and tradition clash. Most of the times, the conflict is about observing cultural rites.

This was evident during the burial of Kenya’s vice-president Wamalwa Kijana, where culture stood firm against a state burial proposed by the government. Kijana, who died in a London hospital Aug. 23, was laid to rest on Sep. 6.

Traditionalists insisted that he had to be buried on his farm, 340 kilometres west of the capital Nairobi. They got their way and Kijana was laid to rest – lying on his left side with his back facing the homestead, "so that his spirit does not return to disturb his family".

Kiraitu Murungi, Kenya’s justice and constitutional affairs minister, and other high ranking politicians, had proposed that Kijana be buried in Nairobi at a designated Heroes Square, the site of Kenya’s independence celebrations in 1963.

This, they argued, would befit Kijana’s status as a great Kenyan leader.

But traditionalists would have none of it. They pointed out that traditional rites had to be observed, and could only be performed at his rural home.

These rites include a ceremony where a herd of cattle would be driven across the home, to chase away evil spirits, which, traditionalists believe, could interfere with the deceased’s destiny.

Members of Kijana’s family, including his wife and children, had to receive symbolic haircuts – sometimes their head is shaved bald – despite their high-profile status in society.

The rainmaker, who is believed to be capable of halting rainfall, was invited to perform some acrobatic displays to prevent rain, which could have disrupted the burial ceremony.

As it turned out, it did not rain despite a weather forecast from the meteorological department which had indicated that there would be some showers.

Credit was given to the rainmaker for what was seen as a success.

While Kijana’s burial was taking place, Kenyans were recovering from another traditional feat involving a 67-year old outspoken gender activist, Wambui Otieno, who had just won the heart of a 25-year-old man, and taken him to the alter.

Wambui had been a widow for 18 years following the death of her husband, a once acclaimed Kenyan lawyer, the late S. M. Otieno.

A protracted legal battle lasting several months ensued between her and her husband’s clan. They were wrestling over his burial site.

The clan, which later won through a court process, buried their son at his ancestral home in western Kenya. Wambui had wanted him to be laid to rest at their matrimonial home in Nairobi. She could not get her way.

In the 1990s an urban Kenyan, Peter Okondo, died having written a will that his body be cremated upon his death. His non-Kenyan wife religiously followed her late husband’s wish and had him cremated.

She then took the ashes to her husband’s ancestral home in western Kenya after which she received an experience of a lifetime. The clan chased her away on grounds that she had been disrespectful for having burned the body of their son.

The clan ignored the will and went ahead to bury a banana stem as a symbolic burial ceremony of their son, Okondo. This way, they had observed full traditional rites.

Cultural activists reckon that Kenyans lead two lives with one foot at their urban settings and the other at their ancestral homes, such that when they die, their relatives do what it takes to perform cultural rites.

"Before modernity, culture existed and no matter what happens, it can never fade away," says Bwire Ojiambo, a production manager at Bomas of Kenya, a cultural institution that promotes Kenyan customs.

He adds that traditionalists are keen to implement rites because of fear that a curse might befall them if they do not. "They are our way of life. Failure to respect them may lead to serious consequences," says 60-year-old Emily Nabwire.

But the Kenyan society, like elsewhere in Africa, is changing. With the youth constituting 60 percent of Kenya’s population and getting educated, change – which is sweeping across the East African country – seems irreversible.

"Death is death. Whether or not you perform the customs, it will not resurrect the dead," says Denny Kahola, a 26-year-old computer engineer in Nairobi.

Such voices are likely to grow louder, especially at the age of information technology where Kenya’s youth are being influenced by television, cinema, and western values.