Christianity's Legacy in Africa

“Is Christianity’s Legacy in Africa a positive one?” the April-June issue of BBC focus on Africa asks its readers. Arguing “yes” is Method Kiliani, an ArchBishop based in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. Christianity, he argues, “taught the despised, maltreated, enslaved African that in the same God all is possible, with distinction of color or race.” Christianity brought modern education, and Kiliani distinguishes the missionaries from the colonial government, although he admits that to some extent missionaries believed colonization could benefit Africans. Kiliani also mentions social services for the poor, and the church as a “voice for the voiceless.”

Arguing “no” is Laurence Berman, an academic at the University of South Africa in Pretoria. “Proselytising by force was not unknown. Guns and bibles were the apostles of Christian Imperialism,” he writes. In addition to criticizing those who act in the name of Christianity, including George W. Bush’s abstinence-only policy in HIV AIDS foreign aid, he also criticizes christian doctrine itself, including references to passages condemning homosexualit. For those who argue that such passages are open to interpretation, Berman concludes that biblical texts are unambiguous.

In Kenya, according to the CIA World Factbook, about 80% of the population is Christian, although it admits that getting an exact percentage is difficult. Denominations range from Catholic and Anglican to smaller or indigenous denominations, including Power of Jesus around the World Church, Africa Israel Nimeveh Church, and the Africa Independent Church. Most, if not all, of the people I interviewed about colonialism would identify as Christian. Several of the interviews began and ended with prayer. In one interview, I was assigned bible verses. Although there are Muslims in the Kisumu area, Christianity dominates in the village that I’ve focused on.

According to Orongo village resident Henry Olum, Luos (prior to Christianity) believed in physical things; the sun, moon, mountains. God was behind such features, as the creator. There was also a father/son conception of God: Were, the father. Obong’o, the son.

I asked people how Christianity got introduced to the villages. With slight variation in the responses, a clearer picture emerges. The missionaries converted a few locals or elders- and they were responsible for introducing Christianity to the greater community. How the missionaries converted those few locals, I’m not entirely sure. There may have been force in some instances (likely), but not reported to me by those I’ve interviewed. More than one attributed the cessation of inter-clan fighting to the activities of missionaries: “in times of violence, they preached about peace.”

A few recalled the missionaries giving out foodstuffs and sweets to attract people. Enticement? Perhaps this was a strategy of the missionaries, but think twice before making the conclusion that Africans dumped their indigenous system of religion for some goodies. Making this conclusion is questionable at best, patronizing at worst. People have a diversity of reasons for changing their religion; Africans are no exception.

This subject reminds me of the portrayal of missionary influence in
Chinua Achebe’s Things FallApart, which takes place in Nigeria on the eve of colonization. There is Mr. Brown, the benevolent missionary who uses a strategy of dialogue and engagement, rather than violence. He does not demand that converts reject all of their indigenous values. He gains the trust of the village leaders, even though the village leaders reject Christianity. Unfortunately, Reverend Smith replaces him in the village. Mr. Smith is the opposite of Mr. Brown; he incites divisions and violence within the community, degrades the local culture as a typical colonist. He colludes with the new colonial administration to arrest and punish those he sees as a threat.

As the characters of Mr. Brown and Mr. Smith demonstrate, Christianity’s influence on Africa has more than one face. Whether or not Christianity (if one distinguishes Christianity from colonialism) has had a negative or positive influence on Africa is not really for me to answer. I’ll leave that to Africans.

Whites Only

In my effort to document the British colonial experience in Kenya, most of my interviews have been with rural dwellers. Their interviews reveal the system of indirect rule that the British used. Policies- including some forms of forced labor- were carried out through local leaders, but direct contact with British settlers was limited (in the area of Kenya I am staying). Thus, I began to develop a picture of 20th century colonialism- at least before independence movements occurred- as a dehumanizing but often distant force.

And then I interviewed Mr. And Mrs. Menya.

I have known the Menyas for some time now. They live in one of the wealthier parts of Kisumu town, in contrast to the mud houses and village setting I have become used to. They are also one of the few interviews I don’t need a translator for; perfectly fluent in English, they have even traveld to the U.S to visit their children. Although Kisumu is their ancestral home, they spent many years in Mombasa- on the opposite side of the country, and culturally different. Mr. Menya worked for the Kenya pipeline, Mrs. Menya for Barclays Bank. Mrs. Menya grew up in Mombasa, while her husband spent his childhood between his village and Nairobi.

Nairobi, Mr. Menya tells me, Africans were not allowed to drink beer at local cafes. They were also not allowed to wear shoes with socks, and if you interacted with a white, you had to wear a tie. Buses were segregated. As a child, he once climbed a tree nursed by the colonial municipality- and once caught, he was caned; “I started hating trees.” During the time of the Mau Mau- or independence war, the white- only areas of Nairobi were surrounded in barbed wire. Mrs. Menya’s experience in Mombasa was similar. Africans had been brought to Mombasa to work on the railway or quarries. If an African entered the whites only area of Tudor, he or she would be caned, maybe even sent back home to the village. If they were caught eating mangos on white farms- also risked being “deported.”

And here we are, black and white, sitting together and talking, taking tea the Kenyan way- with milk and lots of sugar. We talk about Kenyan politics, about how Americans cheat you when naming their foods; there is no buffalo in buffalo wings, no dog meat in hot dogs. Mrs. Menya told me, at one point, that she was disappointed I had a boyfriend. She wanted me to marry her son.

I read somewhere that Kenyans have an enormous capacity to forgive. Given the brutal history of their occupation and all the grievances that could be brought to the table, it is something to admired

Then and Now

Martin Olum, an 85 year old resident of Orongo village in Western Kenya, recalls an experience you wouldn’t read about in books or see in a newspaper. Some 50 years ago, he was forced, upon threat of violence or even death by the British colonialists to guard the imprisoned Mau Mau- African freedom fighters (for independence) in Central Kenya. He was trained to “shoot, arrest and guard.” According to Martin and his neighbor James, the British came to the community and picked people- usually heads of household or young men- as they saw fit for the home guard or forced labor of other types. Even the cattle were not spared. It is easy to dismiss the Kenyans who worked under the British against fellow Africans as collaborators, as equally guilty of the crime as the British themselves. Yet, given the way the imprisoned Mau Mau were treated by the British- castration, floggings, forced to walk on gravel with their knees, sexual abuse- such a fate probably awaited those who resisted recruitment.

Yet, when I asked Olum if material conditions were better then or now, he says conditions were better then- “for those who did not go to school. The rich, he explained, used to purchase their goods from urban centers. The poor, on the other hand- bought locally in the village at reasonable prices. “But now the cost of living in the same for the rich and the poor.”

Olum was not the only one who said times, at least in terms of living costs and circumstance. Janabi Oduor, a resident of Uyoma village(some 100 km from Orongo) told me the detailed history of the fighting between whites and different clans. He explained that “during that time.. whites could not manage to be with black people. They hated each other.” Yet, when asked to compare colonial times to now, he said that life then was better. “If you fell sick during colonial times, the doctors treated you free of charge. Nowadays, medical treatment is expensive- and it’s not a good service.” Evans Gundo, a retired teacher in Orongo, said “some would say colonial times over independence- because of corruption. Nowadays, leaders are busy nursing wealth for themselves, forgetting those who fought. The poor remain poor until God.” In Kenya, corruption occurs at all levels, from graft to bribing hiring managers for jobs. This locks Kenya’s poor out of employment and severely retards the development and delivery of basic services and infrastructure.

Thus initially, I could not understand how the people I interviewed could speak “positively” of those times, even if material conditions were better. But then I came across a quote in an April issue of Time magazine, in an article about Jacob Zuma’s bid for the presidency in South Africa. “My life was better during apartheid. Freedom turned out to be just a word. Real freedom, real power, that comes from money- and I haven’t got any money,” said Vincent Ntswayi, a black South African who held a steady job during apartheid but has only been occasionally employed since the end of white minority rule.

I don’t think anyone in their right mind would argue that apartheid South Africa or Colonial Kenya was a better system of governance for Africans. But the words of Ntswayi, and the Kenyans I’ve talked to, remind us that no matter what system of government you have, people need to eat. While political rights and self rule matter deeply, the economic systems that allow people to have a decent standard of living- whether caused by internal policies or external forces- need to be addressed. Aid also matters, because fairness and justice in the economy could take years, if not much more, and the people in today’s world can’t wait forever.

Excerpts

I’ve mostly been interviewing old mamas and wazee in the village where I’m staying, and other villages nearby. I wanted to post some of their responses; most are translated from Dholuo.

On direct experiences with the British:
“During time, whites could not manage to be with black people…hated each other. Nowadays, we are together, we can share- not like the olden days.”

“There were no good jobs for Africans. No equal pay for equal work….Europeans were highly educated, Asians followed, Africans were last.”

“When whites entered, they took junior Africans … tried to introduce them into the administration to cool animosity and rebellion. But the real intention of the whites was to take the country.

“Some would say colonialism over independence, because of corruption.


On Independence:

“People were not aware…everyone believed white people were supposed to lead and govern. But Jomo Kenyatta.. who lived abroad and got exposure, informed fellow Africans about freedom of self rule.”

“We expected free jobs, free education. Wrongly or rightly, people assumed Indians and Whites would go home and leave the wealth. Now, there are no jobs. Getting a job is hard labor… Leaders are busy nursing wealth for themselves."

“Everyone had a feeling that self rule by Africans would bring changes and a good life…we would live as brothers and sisters. But, since then, we have not seen that. We are living in a way that people don’t care much about each other.’


On culture:

“ (colonialism) killed some of the African culture. Now…people are not free to share belongings with extended families. Now a brother is not prepared to spare pain for a brother…everyone for himself.”

“We used to pay dowry. Everyone like it, everyone did it. But the whites discouraged it.”

“Before currency, we exchanged grains for fish…it was hard to find the person who wanted what you had. Currency, can be used to be anything- it’s easier.”

“We didn’t mix much with the whites and Indians. Each kept to themselves with respect to culture except for clothes, education and Christianity.”

What we don't see at home: an observation

Although not directly related to my current project, I was inspired to write this after walking through the vibrant market in Kisumu's town center.


The media images of Africa we receive in the U.S. usually depict nations of violence, failed states, and poverty. I'm not going to argue that mass violence and failed states don't really exist in Africa- they do. However, the images of poverty we receive often portray Africans as helpless, as beggars. When you receive solicitations from charities, whether on TV or through church, what kind of images do you usually see? The wide eyed, crying child staring at you with sunken eyes, and only you can help. In this post, I hope to paint a slightly different picture of what this poverty looks like. I don't claim to speak for anyone, nor be an expert on anything related to the cause of Africa's poverty; these are only my observations and I've only spent extended time in one African country- Kenya.

When you walk through the main bus stage of Kisumu, considered Kenya's fourth largest town, you see shops selling goods of all kinds, from wrist watches to lightbulbs to sardines. Hawkers walk around selling cds, t-shirts and snacks for people about to travel a distance. You can buy a pineapple to take home, or a piece of pineapple if you're on the go. The amount of choices and products is dizzying. If you want to buy shoes, there are vendors selling second-hand high heels, others selling shoes locally made from tires, and still others selling flip-flops, locally called "pati- pati." No two vendors are alike. I'm sure that most of the these businesses got started with little initial capital, let alone access to credit. Most vendors probably make some profit, but not much in a cash strapped economy, and most probably fall into the category of "poor." Still, the small shops show initiative- a far cry from the image of the wide-eyed, begging child.

Those who have formal employment are considered lucky, as Kenya's unemployment rate is rumored to be around %50; according to my host father, "getting a job in Kenya is hard labor." From the looks of the work, from mechanic to waiter to cashier, formal employment looks like it would provide a more comfortable livelihood and be a little easier thank hawking soda to passerbys. This is sometimes true, but not always the case. My friend provides a stark example of this. He worked at a Nairobi supermarket cashiering. On the surface, cashiering doesn't look too strenuous. Yet in order to maintain employment and earn enough to get by, he worked 14 hours a day, 7 days a week. For less than $200 a month. Add a two hour commute in the morning and a one hour commute at night, and what left do you have for sleep, let alone anything else? Such examples demonstrate how hard people have to struggle to earn income- but again, that they are not helpless, waiting for charity.

Efforts in the rural areas of Kenya, where most Kenyans live, also show how people are far from helpless and have their own initiatives to improve their livelihoods. In the village where I stay, a widow's prayer group has become an NGO that serves 2000 orphans and numerous widows in the community and surrounding area. The group receives aid from foreign donors, but the vision and direction originated locally. The group has no paid staff, but relies on a handful of volunteers. In rural Kitui district, where I stayed last year, the self-help group I interned constructed a building for income generating purposes entirely with their own hands, from the brickmaking to laying the foundation with stones carried one by one from a nearby stream. According to the 2006 Kenya Human Development Report, the GDP per capita in Kitui district $312/year- not even a dollar a day for the average person. And still, people in this self-help group, mostly women and old men, found a way to work under the hot, dry Ukambani sun for the betterment of their community. Helpless? I think not.

So is Kenya poor? If poverty is defined as living on less than $2 or less than $1 a day, then yes, most Kenyans are poor. To clarify, I'm not arguing that aid, from foreign governments and private donors, wouldn't benefit Africans. If managed properly and with grassroots input, it can in many circumstances. I'm only arguing that, from what I've observed, poverty doesn't look like what we think it looks like in Africa. In the U.S., many of us like to believe that with hard work comes prosperity and social mobility. Yet most Africans work very hard without the comforts that many of us have and get little more than the very most basic needs- if anything at all. The efforts of people here demonstrate that most poverty- in Kenya, the U.S. and elsewhere- is not caused by a lack of initiative but by complex factors beyond the average person's control. And the initiatives that do exist in the midst of a lack of opportunity and resources are all the more admirable.

Realizing what I do not know: an introduction

On my first days in Kenya, our program staff told us to lower our expectations.” Initially, we, students studying abroad, did really know what this meant. We were too caught up the euphoria of a new place; the stimulation provided by even the most mundane things such a boarding a matatu or buying ndizi in the local market..

But, as I spent more time in Kenya, I began to ponder this question. I remember sitting the first two to three weeks at my field placement, in a village called Orongo, wishing I had something concrete to do. Something that would prove me useful to the organization. The CBO I was placed with, a widows and orphans group, always had work to do, but time is fluid, more circular in Kenya. Almost every task takes longer than expected, yet people find time just to exist, without hurry. I knew this, even enjoyed the break from the timebound culture of the US, and still I found myself impatient. When it took awhile for me to find a routine in the organization, I began to think that “lower your expectations” meant that I had to lower expectations of those around me.

Yet, when I tried to assist in the nursery school, I did not get far because I didn’t speak the area language, dholuo. When I worked with my supervisor in a HIV/AIDS training in a local school, where the language of instruction was English, my accent was too thick, my anecdotes irrelevant in the local context. I attended a community health seminar, thinking I would be at least somewhat knowledgeable on the material. Again, I was wrong. I didn’t know which local foods had which vitamins. Compared to most of the women in attendance, who had children, I knew nothing about childbirth or breast feeding. My host mother’s knowledge of traditional medicines went right over my head. Thus, I began to realize that “lower your expectations” meant lowering expectations of myself, not of those around me. I also reevaluated my time that I thought had been wasted, and found that I had learned so much through observation, conversation and new relationships.

I recently graduated from college, but my experience in Kenya is living proof that my degree, a symbol of the knowledge that Western society values, is only one type of knowledge. It is not universal, is not relevant in very situation. There is so much to learn beyond books and academia, knowledge that can only be attained through experience, or many of them. This is stating the obvious, but according to a quote from a book I read on crossing cultures, “there is all the difference in the world between believing academically, with the intellect, and believing personally, with the whole living self” (Aldeous Huxley, Jesting Pilate). I am now back in Kenya, working on a research grant, and I am again reminded that I have much to learn beyond the academic work that brought me here.

Originally posted at PulseWire at http://www.worldpulse.com/node/11249