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Kenya
Downtown Nairobi seemed to have deteriorated somewhat since my last visit and offered all of the grit and little of the glamour of other large cities. Once I got settled in, I traveled to the city center on a matatu, a colorful minibus packed beyond capacity with passengers, complete with the conductor hanging precariously onto the outside of the doorway. Each matatu was identifiable by a number and a multicolored American icon, such as Michael Jordan or Snoop Dogg, painted meticulously on the outside of the minibus. As the drivers skillfully sped in a chaotic yet controlled fashion, the excitement of the claustrophobic matatu adventure was heightened by the high-decibel music blaring from the vehicles. I explored walker-friendly Nairobi and found many restaurants and street corners offering delectable Kenyan dishes, snacks, and tea. Administrative buildings, banks, and variety shops framed the busy streets and the bustle of the thriving polyester suit-and-tie culture added character to the capital.

One particularly over-priced tourist shop I passed attempted to invite customers inside with the lure of Masai warriors. Two Kenyan men, each standing on one leg and dressed in colorful red cloth and beads, stood guard in front of the store, sometimes talking to passing tourists. As I watched this scene, I could not tell if these “guards” were actually there for protection or merely decoration. It reminded me that the purpose of my trip did not correspond with the purpose of other visitors to Kenya. For many, Kenya is Africa’s leading wildlife destination, offered the exotic images of photogenic animals, vast savannah grasslands, and, for some, picturesque Masai people. While I could understand the allure of gaping at wildlife, I was disturbed that some African game parks seemed to include African people as part of the game. After days of spotting elephants, giraffes, lions, and zebras in the countryside, tourists on European and American package holidays were often ferried through preselected villages to see “authentic” Africa. With thousands of tourists treading through their backyards each year, many Kenyans have attempted to turn the situation to their advantage by requesting a gift or a small amount of money in exchange for a photographic image, much to the dismay of some tourists. I laughed softly when I read a question in a Kenyan tour book which asked tourists, “How would you feel if an endless succession of minibuses arrived at your doorstep to photograph your family?” Then it occurred to me that they could be photographing my Kenyan family. Although quite a few Kenyans have become semi-professional models for the tourist industry, taking pictures of Kenyans in their “natural habitat” is considered intrusive and disrespectful by some. Others claim that some Kenyans would not be able to subsist without the fees of these curious onlookers, who, in turn, were given an opportunity to interact with the people of the country they came to visit. I found it rather difficult to gauge how I felt and where I fit in this bizarre equation of consenting exploitation.

Kenya Interviews

“ There is no such thing as race.”
-- Kenyan father

My mother went to a white hospital, and because she was holding a black baby, they made her wait. That sister of mine died in my mother’s arms. My sister died because she was not white. That was how bad it was in 1953.

Former Attorney General Charles Njonjo (father)

My children are a product of love between two people.
There are no disadvantages for them. They may be treated differently because they are my children and I am in the public light but they are not treated differently or given any preferential treatment because they are children of a marriage such as ours.

Jennifer Bedad

If I am driving in town in a Mercedes which I have stolen, people will look at me and say, “She is white so she could not have stolen it.” But if you are a sharply dressed black person driving a Mercedes which you might own, people will look at you and think, “Where the hell did you get such a car from?” and they will stop and ask you. Some people look at me and probably think I am white. When I go for job interviews, sometimes I am more likely to get the job because they will think I am not black. Some people, especially the Asians, will say, “We are actually not looking for a black person to work here,” but they will take me. They don’t look at me as if I am a black person. They don’t know or figure it out until much later that I am more black than I am white. I think my boss, who is white, was a bit disappointed because when I first came to work, they probably thought I would do what they do, hang out in the places they do, but I don’t. I do the opposite – I go where my friends go because most of my friends are black and I never look at myself as if I am different from them.

Edith Nzuvu (mother)

These questions of race are coming from an American point of view but in Kenya people are not put into a category.

Sometimes when my friends describe me to someone else, they say, “Have you seen Kyale, the .5 guy?” “Point-five” is just part of normal vocabulary to describe someone with my background, half black and half white. When people say it, they don’t have a racial intent. It is a way to differentiate this person from that person, like describing me as “the tall guy.” I don’t think people should describe you by race but instead just refer to people by their name. I would not call a black person named Andrew, “Andrew, the black person,” I would call him by his name.

We had funny things happen. Some people would take Kaimentti as an ayah [maid] taking care of the boss’s little kid. I would get funny looks and hear somebody back biting me in Swahili saying, “Where did that mzungu [white person] steal that kid?” But other people will see us together with the kids and take it in a positive way, making the world a smaller place. The children have never asked about race, but if they did I would certainly tell my children that they are mixed and if it requires more discussion I would relate it to the ethnic thing. The issue is not so much color, it is really more your culture. You could be black but whether you grow up in a village in Kenya or South Chicago creates a totally different cultural experience.