The other day we went to a “jua kali” part of the eastern Uganda town of Mbale. It’s the kind of place where men in dirty overalls curse a lot and are pushy – but they are great craftsmen and genius fabricators.
You show them something from the internet, return a few hours later, and what they have pulled off simply takes your breath away.
They are also very political. We turned up in a Kenyan-registered car, and it was a huge magnet. I didn’t see it coming.
If you want the experts on the August Kenyan election, don’t look for them in Nairobi. Come to this tough and creative corner of Mbale. They cornered us several times. Many wanted to know how “our man” President William Ruto was doing and claimed to have special insight into the strategy that handed him victory.
Nearly as many wanted to know how “our hero”, former PM and Azimio la Umoja flagbearer Raila Odinga was doing. They claimed to have and offered an inside story of how their hero was “robbed” of victory. Kenyans, they groused, have learnt Uganda’s bad vote-thieving ways.
Whichever side they fall on Kenya’s electoral divide, their engagement is admirable. They represent what analysts in the region have called a sharp “East Africanisation” of national politics. They argue that the dynamics of East African integration might be running behind schedule, but the connection of minds and diffusion of knowledge about the rest of the bloc has significantly advanced.
In this way, leaders represent something important beyond their national borders. President Ruto’s hustler positioning seems to have struck a chord with a section of the Mbale jua kali, who are the city’s underclass. There is a widespread belief that, following his announcement that Ugandan milk (banned and hobbled in the past) will be allowed to sell unfettered in Kenya, free trade will flow under his watch. Ugandans think that in a free trade regime on farm products, they will wipe the floor with regional rivals.
Raila’s appeal also comes from a part of that cross-section who feel marginalised, not economically, but politically. They are the ones whose candidates have run fruitlessly against President Yoweri Museveni for decades, been beaten, detained, tortured, and some of their compatriots killed. And within that, a subset sees him as a Moses figure for the politically marginalised regional “Luo Nation”.
There is also a notable section who are still very much in former President Uhuru Kenyatta’s corner. The regional bourgeoisie and upper middle class saw him as one of them. He was brought up in good things and therefore understood their value. He is a happy man. A safe pair of hands who would not set the granary on fire, knows good music and will probably pay a handsome price for a piece of good art if he saw one. Although in Uhuru’s case, former First Lady Margaret Kenyatta would likely be the one buying art in the household.
At the higher level, there are a few notable vehicles leading this connection of minds. At the top are the financial institutions. Kenyan banks like KCB and Equity have woven a sophisticated web of very East African boards of directors, consultants, and portfolios. Several of them are cosmopolitan and were on the frontlines of the “Africa Rising” movement of the first 15 years of this century.
The second is the Rotary Club, which in East Africa has witnessed a silent, but truly remarkable growth among successful millennials and does many regional events.
The third is art and culture. In mid-September, Nyege Nyege, easily Africa’s biggest electronic music festival, took place after a two-year Covid-19-enforced hiatus. It was held along a scenic spot along the bank of the River Nile in the old Uganda industrial city of Jinja, which is its home.
Accounts of how many people flocked from the corners of East Africa, and the world, to attend Nyege Nyege vary from 12,000 to 20,000. One of my travelling companions on this trip was involved in the logistics of transporting many Kenyans to Nyege Nyege. He says Kenyan Immigration officials at the Kenya-Uganda border told him they recorded at least 4,000 Kenyans who crossed for the festival.
As they share the same pie more; try to collectively make the world a better place; dance crazily in the mud of Nyege Nyege, and dip into the same river for a bath together, interest in what is happening at the source of the businesses they are eating from has grown.
Take the case of Nyege Nyege. When 4,000 Kenyans show up, Kenyan politics can no longer be an arcane often-ethnic, political event that should bother a millennial festival organiser. All of a sudden, what Raila or Ruto promises to do during election campaigns is a big bread-and-butter issue in Jinja. He could rain on the party. At worst, 4,000 Kenyan fans might not show up next time, and there could be no electronic music playing along the River Nile. We may have crossed the East African Rubicon.
