Reports from Kenya
Report
117
October 7, 2009
Customs, Culture, and Tradition
A few years ago when Gladys, my wife, and I were in Bujumbura, Burundi,
we were invited to dinner at the home of a Burundian couple. When we
arrived we shook hands with the kids, but then during our dinner and
stay, they disappeared into the back rooms. The hostess told us that
this was Burundian culture. The children returned to bid us goodbye when
we left.
The next night we were invited to dinner at the home
of another Burundian couple. In this case the children went in and
out and ate dinner with
the rest of us. This couple was certainly as “Burundian” as
the first couple. So which was “Burundian culture”? My first
point is that culture can vary between closely connected individuals.
When I was in the Rwandan refugee camp in Tanzania I
knew a young man, perhaps 25, who was married to a woman older than
he was. She had three
young children. This was a case of “wife inheritance.” In
this region it is customary that if a man dies, his wife is inherited
by the oldest surviving brother. In the olden days this clearly had its
benefits as no woman and her children would be left uncared for. Moreover
the family would stay united and the sons would still be part of the
larger family.
But then AIDS came along. If a man died of AIDS which
he had given to his wife, then the brother would acquire AIDS and give
it also to his
first wife and so on. The result was that the adult members of whole
families were being wiped out. As an anti-AIDS measure, governments and
health organizations began campaigns against the practice. In Kenya there
is a debate whether wife inheritance should be made illegal. In this
case the custom died out quite quickly because men were afraid of marrying
their brother’s wife.
My second point is that customs can and do change all
the time. It is a myth of the “noble savage” that “primitive” cultures
do not change. All societies are in a continuing state of change.
But then the opposite of wife inheritance is wife dis-inheritance.
I know of a Luhya woman who has five children between three and eighteen.
When her husband died, her brother-in-laws (the oldest who would have
married her under wife inheritance) threw her and the children out so
that they could control her husband’s land, house, and livestock.
She had to return to her father’s place. But she would not inherit
here either as it would be her brothers who would inherit the father’s
property. While her daughter might get married off to men with land/home,
her sons would essentially be landless and homeless, making it very difficult
for them to establish a home in Kenya. Currently this woman’s predicament
is common in the region. In Kenya they are trying to pass a law against
wife dis-inheritance, proclaiming that property belongs jointly to both
husband and wife. Not surprisingly the mostly male dominated legislature
is not supportive of this position while most women’s groups consider
a law like this essential. My third point is that when a custom does
change, the change may have its own problems.
When my mother-in-law died, she had seven surviving daughters.
The traditional sign of mourning for such a close relative is for the
women to shave
their head. Some of the daughters did this, some didn’t, and others
compromised by cutting their hair short. So my fourth point is that customs,
culture, tradition may or may not be followed according to the whims
and wishes of particular individuals.
Let us turn to another tradition, female circumcision.
Neither the Luo or Luhya in Western Kenya have ever engaged in female
circumcision, but
most of the rest of the groups in Kenya do. Gladys has a friend named
Jacinta who has an orphanage near Nakuru in the Rift Valley. When we
visited once, she was “hiding” six Masai young women so that
they would not be circumcised. There is a major campaign in Kenya against
female circumcision, promoted heavily by women’s groups and their
non-governmental organization supporters. Actions that these groups have
taken include safe houses during the time of circumcision, alternative
initiation rites at puberty for the young women, and outlawing the custom.
Every year it seems one or more circumcisers are charged with murder
when one of the young women dies because of the “cut” as
they call it here.
I know of no one who defends this custom except traditional patriarchal
men and the women who circumcise. Note that there is an economic advantage
for the women who circumcise since they are paid in money, goats, honey,
etc for their work. It can be a substantial income for them during the
initiation period.
Do you agree that this is a bad custom? If so, you will
then have to agree that not all “ancient, traditional” customs
are good and beneficial. Moreover you will have to join forces with
all the Christian
missionaries who have come to Kenya because they have been unanimous
in condemning this practice since they first came. No good Christian
Kenyan will have his or her daughters circumcised.
Moreover, if you consider this a bad custom, what do you do about it?
Should its continuation or dis-continuation be left up to the Kenyans?
Should it be only left up to the Kenyans from the groups that practice
the custom? Should there be laws that are enforced against it? If so,
how would they be legislated and enforced?
So my fifth point is that what to do about a bad custom is not easily
resolved. Adrien Niyongabo in Burundi notes that the division of people
in Rwanda and Burundi into Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa is a bad custom that
needs to be eradicated. Rwanda and Burundi have taken divergent methods
of dealing with this. In Rwanda the use of the terms has been abolished
so that everyone is now a Rwandan, while in Burundi all positions in
government, army, parliament, police, etc. are defined in concrete percentages.
The police, for example, are half Tutsi and half Hutu so that ethnicity
remains significant. Before you like the Rwandan solution, note that
this was also tried in Burundi during the regime of President Bagaza
when it was illegal to use the terms. The result was that no one would
count and criticize that the minority Tutsi were the vast majority in
all the institutions of the country. In other words it was a method of
continued minority domination since everyone knows, even if they cannot
say it out loud, who is Tutsi and who is Hutu.
My sixth point is that when a custom needs to be changed, how can it
be done? Laws can lead the way, but are ineffective if people resist
them.
Sharon Phelps, a council member of Friends Peace Teams, once wrote me
an email wherein she noted that years ago she had helped introduce ox
plowing to an area where oxen were not used for plowing or pulling. The
rationale was as follows:
The local people had an interesting reaction – they
raised cattle for meat and could not imagine using them to plow or
for other work,
because they felt it would be wrong to eat an animal after it contributed
labor to the life and wealth of their families.
While this way of seeing might be difficult for an American to understand,
it would be even more difficult to understand for all those Africans,
including people in Kenya, who use oxen for plowing.
The seventh point is that customs and their rationale are sometimes strange
only because of one’s own assumptions and biases.
An eighth point is that something that may seem very difficult to you
might be rather easy for an African accustomed to doing it. Most Kenyan
tribes, Ugandans, Rwandans, and Burundians carry things on their head,
while others (Kikuyu, Kamba, Meru, and Embu in Kenya and then some groups
in South Kivu in the eastern Congo) carry things on their back with a
rope that is placed on the forehead. I always wondered how the various
methods developed and why one group does it one way and another group,
the other way. Here is a story from my time in the Rwandan refugee camp.
One day during my period off from teaching, I went to our house and
opened the wooden shutter in preparation for grading papers on the dining
room table. As I did this I noticed two women talking outside the window.
I knew them both; one, Muyenzi Darasa, was from our village and the other,
Muyensi Juu, from the village across the road. One of the women had a
5 gallon metal tin on her head filled with water which she had just drawn
from the spring. The tin would weigh about 35 pounds.
Many times I had walked to the spring with a tin to draw water. First
long blades of grass are formed into a halo which is placed on the head
under the tin so that the weight is distributed more evenly on the head.
It took me about 10 to 15 minutes to walk uphill from the spring with
the 35 pound tin on my head. I had two problems when I did this. The
first was that my neck muscles were not strong enough to hold the weight
for this period of time. But as I did this every three or four days my
neck muscles became stronger and this no longer was a problem.
My insurmountable problem was that I couldn’t balance
the tin on my head without it falling. So I had to resort to holding
the tin
with one hand. This arm would soon get tired and I would use the other
one. This also would get tired before the first arm had recovered. By
the time I reached home my arms ached. Then with those tired arms I had
to take the tin off my head without dropping the tin or spilling the
water.
As I watched the woman outside my window, I noticed that she never once
put her arm up to stabilize the tin on her head. Whenever it began to
fall to one side she would deftly move her neck and head and rebalance
the tin. Clearly she did this without thinking because she just continued
her discussion with the neighbor.
One time when I was going to draw water, I noticed about seven children,
three to seven years old, near the spring. They had a tin can and they
would half fill it with water, go to a part of the path which was level
for about fifty feet and see if they could balance the tin can of water
on their head the length of the straightaway. When they succeeded they
were all happy and excited and, when the can fell, they ran to get more
water and try again. The younger children were totally unable to balance
the tin, while the older children frequently succeeded. What was I doing
when I was seven years old? Learning to ride a bike. A person needs to
learn both of these skills when they are a child. At only 21 years of
age I was already too old to learn how to balance anything on my head
without holding it up with my arm.
At the end of my forty minute break, as I closed the
shutter to return to class, the two women were still talking. I could
never have held 35
pounds on my head for more than 40 minutes. Yet for this woman it was
something that she didn’t even thing think about. The point is
that foreigners comment on how hard life is for Africans because they
themselves would be unable to do tasks that the Africans have learned
and are accustomed to doing. These seemingly hard tasks actually may
not be difficult for the Africans. In other words, in order to understand
the Africans condition, you cannot just interject yourself into the situation
because your experiences and conditioning may be very different.
In summary we must see customs, culture, and traditions not as fixtures
carved in stone but as a breathing, living entities that are open to
continuous change and various interpretations by different people. Some
customs may not be beneficial; yet, changes may also have their pluses
and minuses. Then there is the likelihood of great variations even between
close family members.
David Zarembka, Coordinator
African Great Lakes Initiative of the Friends Peace Teams
P. O. Box 189, Kipkarren River 50241 Kenya
Phone in Kenya 254 (0)726 590 783
Office in US: 1001 Park Avenue, St Louis, MO 63104 USA 314/621-7262
dave@aglionline.org www.aglionline.org
Previous |
Next
Report: 1 | 10 | 20 | 30 | 40 | 50 |60
| 70
|
80 | 90
| 100
|
107 | 108 | 109 |
110 |115