3.1 Kamba ethnic depictions of the Maasai
3.1.4 The Maasai as “backward” and “ignorant”
Being the most dominant depiction, Kamba‟s portrayal of the Maasai as “backward” and
“ignorant” is beset with serious conceptual problems. The concepts are not only difficult to concretise despite having repeatedly featured in literature, but they are also associated with colonial discourses. They are equally reminiscent of the way the Maasai are presented by other groups and outside of Kenya‟s borders.
At least empirically, the line between backwardness and ignorance is fairly thin. Deduced from actors‟ descriptions, ignorance, was associated with actions that were interpreted to be illogical, devoid of knowledge, counterproductive or placed those involved in jeopardy. On the other hand, backwardness was expressed in relative or comparative terms. Borrowing a lot from the modernisation model, the Maasai were said to have lower literacy rate, fewer schools, low school enrolment rate, fewer medical facilities, poorer water supply, poorer quality of roads and “traditional” housing structures. Others associated backwardness with keeping of large herds of cattle “for their own sake”, female circumcision, warriorhood, early and
“arranged” marriages and polygyny. Some of these issues are handled exhaustively elsewhere.
Nonetheless, it would be important to point out here that based on these perceptions, Maasai neighbours have evolved an ideology of superiority over the Maasai. However, most of these claims are at best ostensible assertions, for the same are to be observed among non-Maasai groups.
As a way of distancing themselves from the Maasai, the Kamba say that Maasai pastoralism, dress and other practices like female circumcision are “things that we used to do many years ago”. Making this observation, Mutui was to admit later that female circumcision “has persisted” among the Kamba. Apart from female circumcision, the Maasai were said to eat raw meat, drink blood and milk “direct from the cow” (not boiled). Observations made showed that when an animal is slaughtered, only the liver and kidneys may be eaten raw while the consumption of blood (usually mixed with milk) or milk that is not boiled is a rarity.
Moreover, meat is not eaten as frequent as I had been made to believe. Increasingly, a bull, goat or sheep is slaughtered only during special occasions (e.g. marriage ceremonies).
Penetration of the cash economy and the consequent social transformation has led to the
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commoditisation of cattle which are sold to pay for school fees, meet medical expenses, buy clothes and foodstuffs. Otherwise, just like the Kamba, many Maasai buy meat from butcheries.
Persistence and resilience of Maasai practices like dress and food appear to enhance the feeling among the Kamba that the Maasai “don‟t change”. Kyuli puts it this way: “I am an old man (about 65), I grew up here with the Maasai, I see them everyday, now they eat ngima and isyo88 and some go to school, but...no, they have not changed, what they used to do when I was a small boy is still what they do these days” (Kyuli, Kiboko, 11/05/2000). Although he appreciates that there has been some transformation among the Maasai society, he rejects this reality which would negate his long cherished convictions of what a „Maasai‟ should be like.
Another aspect that the Kamba claimed exposed “Maasai ignorance” is a practice where pregnant women are denied foods like meat and milk. The Maasai reason that if these women are fed to their fill, particularly on these protein rich foods, babies would be too big to pass through the birth canal and the woman or the child or both may die during birth. In addition, it is also almost a taboo among the Maasai in general to eat eggs, chicken and fish (see also Schlosser, 1984: 155). Ordinarily, the mothers-in law are charged with the responsibility of ensuring that the expectant daughters in-law adhere to the feeding code. In certain cases, women may be forced to avoid food for two days. The situation is compounded by the recurrent droughts and famine experienced in the area. The point is, the frail looking expectant women are not denied food out of ignorance but, “wisdom”.89
Scientifically, it is held that pregnant women should be placed on a balanced diet and that eating a lot of food does not result in big babies. Moreover, although the Kamba may take this notion as „ignorance‟, in the recent past, the Kamba had similar beliefs and practices too, whereby pregnant women avoided fatty foods. It is a question of social transformation which is presented as “our culture...” A recent comparative study done in Kajiado among the cross-section of groups living there showed that most Maasai women give birth to underweight children. Wangulu Eliezer (1999) shows that out of 46 “pure Maasai parents” who gave birth, their children‟s birth weights were 2.72 kilograms compared to 3.18 kilograms for children born of 86 mixed parents (e.g. Maasai and Kikuyu) and over 3 kilograms for children born of 144 parents that were non-Maasai.90 These differences, that tended to follow ethnic lines had
88 Kamba traditional dishes. Ngima is popularly known as ugali in Swahili. Made by adding cornmeal (usually white) to boiling water and stirring to a thick paste, it is the staple diet among many ethnic groups in Kenya. The interviewee equates adopting Kamba dishes with „modernity‟. Isyo is a dish prepared by mixing maize and legumes. More details in chapter four.
89 Noted Sitonik, one of my research partners.
90 See “Horizon”, The Daily Nation, Thursday, December 16, 1999, p. 11.
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something to do with feeding habits. What is more, the Maasai in general tend to dislike green vegetables.
While creating awareness on healthy dishes, a clinical officer in Simba health centre met a lot of resistance whenever he encouraged the Maasai to eat greens popularly known as sukuma wiki and which are available in nearly all parts of the country. A man told him once that those people who eat “such things” are “desperate”. Speaking to the clinical officer in Swahili, he posed: “Nikule majani, kwani mimi ni mbuzi?”, which means, “how can I eat leaves, am I a goat?” Although such comments signify pride and wealth, the Kamba health workers see them as informed by „ignorance‟. But the Maasai attitude towards greens is quite logical. Other groups (e.g. the Kamba) feed on green vegetables not out of the realisation that they are healthy foods, but because they are staple foods, which are often despised. Many say that they eat them because “we cannot afford meat”. Otherwise, other claims to the effect that “only”
Maasai women deliver at home with the assistance of traditional birth attendants are unfounded as the same applies to many Kamba women.
The story of Mwende
„Ignorance‟ was expressed in other ways. Anne Mwende, a Kamba research partner from Emali narrated how the Maasai had struck her home “around 1972” in an attempt to raid cattle.
She noted that as some went to the cattle kraal, others broke into her granary, something which she said was quite unusual since the Maasai raiders normally never targeted agricultural produce. This time however, they did. A thorough search left grain strewn all over the place and yet nothing was taken away. In a narrative that was given in detail and emotionally, she said that a month later, she found out from “another woman” (actually her step cousin married to a Maasai), that the warriors were most likely looking for Muthokoi, a Kamba dish prepared from white maize whose testa or husk has been removed using a mortar and pestle. The lean maize grains are then mixed with legumes and cooked in a pot. She said that the Maasai
“thought” that Muthokoi was harvested directly from the farm. Mwende argued that the failure to „know‟ the process by which Muthokoi is prepared was an expression of “ignorance” on the part of the Maasai. She admitted however that there is perhaps even a wider range of Maasai practices that are equally incomprehensible among the Kamba. She appeared reluctant to accept that such a gap in knowledge was „normal‟. She insisted that “we know these people, we have lived with them, we know that they are naïve.” The whole scenario has to be understood within the context in which these neighbouring groups operate. To a Kamba, for one to imagine that Muthokoi, which involves so much labour to prepare is harvested straight
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from the fields, is a gross expression of ignorance and naivety. But, this has to be seen in a subjective sense. It is a criteria being used to reinforce what the Kamba think of the Maasai and to enhance Kamba pride. So keen was she to distance herself from the Maasai that when I asked her whether there are any social and economic exchanges between the two groups, she retorted “we have nothing to do with the Maasai”.
During one of our conversations though, a young Maasai woman entered the homestead bringing in milk. When I put back the question to her she just laughed and told me that I was being “too critical”. And she belittled the milk thus: “We just accept it because we have no alternative...who can trust milk from the Maasai?” To her, admitting close social interaction with the Maasai would unmask the underlying networks of interdependence thereby weakening her „backwardness‟ thesis. She refused to see the milk as a mutual exchange that sustains groups‟ livelihoods, and was uncooperative when I told her that I wanted to interview the Maasai girl. Her response is explained by Hahn‟s observation that those who define others as strangers fear the destabilisation of their evidence (2000: 18). He notes further that market relations may thrive on the maintenance of strangeness/alien status (see also Simmel, 1958:
509). Mwende‟s motivation to show that the Maasai were of a lesser status was so strong that even obvious cross-ethnic transactions were being denied and often treated as exceptions or accidents, irrespective of how frequent and consistent these exchanges were.
Other examples
In other cases, Maasai „ignorance‟ was deduced from their perceived indifference to
„modernity‟, largely a colonial discourse. A Kamba businesswoman in Simba trading centre drew my attention thus: “Look at those women over there (pointing to a group of four Maasai women)...what are they doing?...they are doing nothing, just talking and wasting time...to be in the market, they think they are okay, they are just like the other people...is that business?
they are just idlers...and some of these people have not been anywhere, they just know this place” (Mwongeli, 12/06/2000). To her, the Maasai are „lagging behind‟ and they do not seem to be doing something about it. She felt that the women in question should be “doing more”
now that „their‟ trading centre‟s business was in the hands of the Kamba, but that due to their
„ignorance‟ they “did not see the difference”. Actually, the Maasai women were not “doing nothing”. Two of them were selling milk, small packets of sugar and tea leaves to their fellow Maasai women in what can be called ethnic trade. Moreover, the Maasai were not as parochial as the Kamba tended to paint them, as some of the Maasai women were selling milk in bigger quantities and in distant areas outside of Maasai territory. In general, the Maasai are just as
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conscious about, and keen on regional as well as on national issues just like the Kamba. It is a question of the passion to show that the Maasai were different.
How else was the apparent Maasai „ignorance‟ and „backwardness‟ expressed? During a conversation with the headteacher of a primary boarding school91, he gave an interesting account of a dialogue he had with a Maasai parent. He started thus: “You are asking why we regard these people as backward, ahaa, where do I start?...okay take the example of this man from Sultan Hamud, he has about eight children here (laughs)...no, they aaaare, seven, they are seven! I think they are seven. When he is paying school fees, he sometimes forgets some children, he cannot remember that they are his! There is this small boy, I think in standard four, whose fees he forgot to pay when he came here in June, I told him mzee (old man), you have left out one of your sons...he said no, no I have paid fees for all my children...no you have not! You know, I told him that he has seven children in the school and not six, then he counted quietly, one, two, three...of course in kimasai (Maa) and he said, I have only six children here and I have paid fees for all of them. I told him no, your children are seven. He insisted that they are six! I told him that I shall send home the one he has left out. When I told him that, he said that he wanted to see the boy. I sent for him, and you know what, the man was not sure whether that was his son! To convince himself, he asked the boy to say who his mother was, then he burst out laughing and said aha kweli ni yangu, weka yeye kwa listi, aha, ni pesa gapi (oh, it is my child, put him in the list, oh, how much do I owe you?), then he paid the money (Ksh 7,000 or EUR 85) and left...now look at that, who can forget his children?
Okay, he has four wives but you should not forget your children...so when you ask me why we regard these people as backward, there is so much to say” (Kenneth, headteacher, Kiboko, 22/08/2000).
The question is: Why is this incident of a busy businessperson with a big family of about 20 children taken as an indication of backwardness and ignorance? One of the things that the headteacher detested was the large number of children. In another interview with a Maasai elder, I was told that with such a large number of children, one can easily “forget” some. He said that just like cattle, Maasai do not count their children. But he did not stop there. He quipped that it is possible that the man in question was “just playing games with the headmaster”! He felt that instead of seeing that as ignorance, it should be the other way round:
“Having so many children that you cannot tell their names is the dream of any Maasai”
(Palalelei, Kiboko, 13/09/2000). It is instructive that apart from age and animal wealth, having many wives, children and grandchildren over which to exercise authority enhances respect
91 The boarding primary school lies at the Makueni-Kajiado border. Though cartographically in Ukambani, the Maasai often argue that the school is in their territory.
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among the Maasai society. While the Kamba were keen to portray the Maasai as people who cared more about their cattle than their wives and children, evidence seemed to go against this thesis. But the Kamba were not the only ones. Take the example of Tenka a Maasai aged 20.
Identifying himself with a generation keen to embrace change and opposed to some Maasai practices, he told me that when his father comes home after being away for several days, “he asks about the cattle...whether any cows gave birth...he might not even greet my mother...it is normal here but some of us find it odd.” He claimed that the mother never looked disturbed by this „neglect‟. I decided to take the young man to task. I asked him why he thought he thought his father‟s behaviour was odd although the mother was not „bothered‟. He had no answer.
Being a „modern‟ Maasai looking forward to going to university, he detested certain forms of behaviour common among his parents‟ generation. The question is: Are the Maasai less affectionate towards their kin? From my observations, nothing could be further from the actual practice. And I cannot put it better than Fr. Hans Mol, a Dutch missionary who has studied Maasai language and culture for 40 years. He notes: “These are the only people of Africa whom I know kiss in their greeting...mother kisses child a lot, brother stands stiff and is kissed on the cheek by sisters, sisters run so fast to meet each other upon returning home that you expect a big crash only to get this gentle hug.”92
Maasai „ignorance‟ in daily conversations
When a Kamba shares a story with another or others and the story is taken as a lie, his or her listeners might in disapproval say “mantha Muumasai ukenge”, which means, “look for a Maasai to tell that lie”. This in essence implies that it is only the Maasai who cannot distinguish a lie from the truth. Surprisingly, another Bantu group, the Kikuyu, also have similar sayings about the Maasai. A Kikuyu may respond to a story judged to be a misrepresentation of the truth thus: Etha Maathai uhenie (“look for a Maasai to lie to”) or
“ndukandue Maathai” which means, “don‟t make me a Maasai”. I should add that many Kenyans in general, particularly in urban areas, appear to look down on people whom they categorise as Maasai. For instance, few residents in Nairobi care to know the names of Maasai guards who man entrance gates to their residential courts. They simply refer to them as
“Masai” and greet them habari Masai (“how are you Maasai”) or Masai kuja (“come here Maasai”). For some reason, the guards do not seem to get offended. One would be very lucky if s/he said to a Kikuyu guard habari Kikuyu and left unscathed. The difference in reaction to the greeting is explained by what the ethnic categories referred to are perceived to represent.
92 Sunday Nation, October 28, 2001.
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The Maasai guard is likely to interpret the greeting as “hello Mr courageous”, while the Kikuyu might take the greeter to be saying “hello Mr thief”.93
The Maasai as contingent planners?
The Maasai are depicted as a group that never plans ahead. Although the Kamba appropriate this notion, development agents and state extension officers have enhanced this image.
Pastoralists and peasant cultivators are constantly cautioned to plan ahead and steer clear of contingent methods. In the course of my study, I attended barazas (public meetings) where agricultural, livestock and administrative officers gave “advice” to the Maasai and Kamba cattle keepers with regard to management of herds. As drought looked imminent, farmers were told to store “enough grain” during harvests. From intensive interviews conducted among a cross range of local residents and from observations made, it was clear that few heed the „expert advice‟ provided by government officials and non-governmental organisations.
The first challenge was to find out why such advice is ignored. And it turned out to be the same old story of top-down approach where expert knowledge is provided with little consultation with the local groups. The advice is provided in a vacuum, hardly with safety nets to cushion vulnerable groups. Few external agents care to find out why herds are not reduced before an imminent drought or why most farmers sell their crops immediately after harvest.
Of interest here however is not what the Kamba and the Maasai do with their crops and herds respectively but rather how each group makes sense of the others‟ actions. While both groups are generally vulnerable when rains fail, it is rather striking that the Kamba see the Maasai as a people whose survival hinges on contingency. Evidence gathered however suggests otherwise. The argument therefore, that the Kamba adjust better to the fragile environment is simply an affront in ethnic rivalry. In fact, in defence of the Maasai, I was told: “I never understand the Kamba, they had a bumper harvest just the other day and now we are queuing with them for relief...in fact, they are more desperate than us, now at least for us, you can understand...we have no farms” (Palalelei, Kiboko, 10/05/2000). This was in reference to the food shortages that came after the long rains of 2000. Palalelei‟s comments outline the Kamba‟s lifecycle where harvest and famine alternate with striking frequency. To illustrate this point, I present one of the farmers‟ (Kyuli) experience by listing food shortages and famines since 1960. Some of these famines, the Kamba conceded, would have been avoided if they were anything different from what they were portraying the Maasai to be.
93 The Kikuyu are depicted as thieves. In Nairobi, few people engage the Kikuyu as security guards. These jobs are dominated by the Luhya, Kamba and Maasai groups.
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1961: yua ya Ndeke, i.e., “the famine of the plane”. Food had to be distributed using planes due to floods.
1965: yua ya Ata, i.e., “the famine of wheat”. People received wheat as food relief.
1969: yua ya Makaa, i.e., “the famine of charcoal”. People had to sell charcoal to survive.
1974-76: yua ya Longosa, i.e., “the famine of disorganisation”. This drought and famine was so intense, it decimated livestock. Children dropped out of school, families broke up while others relocated. Maasailand was not spared.
1983/84: yua ya nikwa ngwete, i.e., “the famine of „I am dying despite having money‟”.
During this famine, grain was often unavailable in food stores; having money therefore made no difference. Besides, people had to eat katokelele (yellow maize). Kyuli said that there were still “smaller famines” in between the years. It would be safe to say that hardly a single year ends without some parts of Ukambani experiencing food shortage. Food shortages often follow bumper harvests. Even after the enormous grain harvests that came by way of the El-Nino rains in 1998, people had shortages shortly after. This chronology of droughts and famine also affected Maasailand (at least Kajiado) which lies in the same climatic zone with much of Ukambani. Rain failure means poor pastures and causes social turmoil as the food chains of man and beast are disrupted. Besides, vulnerability on either side impacts on the other as the Maasai move their animals looking for pastures in Ukambani while the Kamba seek assistance (e.g. maize and beans) from their kin in places like Loitokitok (Maasailand).
Drought, as I point out in chapter five, creates an arena in which the two groups intensify their interdependence.
As for the Maasai, some of the problems they face are a creation of the state. In the 1970‟s group ranches were created to regulate rangelands grazing. These ranches have been transformed into individual plots discouraging pastoralism and increasing transhumance. In fact, a Kenyan scholar argues that the ranches restricted the Maasai to designated areas thereby causing overgrazing and depleting water. “Due to overgrazing”, notes Aboud (2001),
“the pastoralists have lost their livestock and abandoned their way of life. Most are doing lowly urban jobs”.94 He argues that attempts to reduce their herds as a way of conserving the environment were uncalled for, adding that the plight of pastoralists has been worsened by persistent encroachment on their land by people practising “modern agriculture”95 and by gazetting parts of the grazing fields to pave the way for national parks and game reserves and
94 Prof. A. A. Aboud is dean, Faculty of Environmental Sciences and Natural Resources at Egerton University, Njoro, Kenya. These comments were contained in a paper entitled “The Heart and Life of Pastoralists” which was carried by the The Daily Nation dated Thursday, August 23, 2001. He was addressing a conference on pastoral land rights in Naivasha (Kenya).
95 For instance, the Kamba and the Kikuyu.