Fair methods of identifying ‘mashujaa’ should be our quest

By Ngari Gituku

Kenya: Last Sunday’s Mashujaa Day celebrations evoked a mixed bag of memories and feelings worth a pen portrait.

Several of those memories, having been progressively amassed over the last 50 -years, are as symbolic as they are deeply infused into Kenya’s vein. And what a way of compressing 50-years into neat, tiny but loaded bundle!

Of course, reminiscences accruing from Mashujaa Day performances rekindled hints of a chequered past, a past attended by a number of not-too-desirable flashbacks complete with aftertastes. The objectionable memories of our collective past were, however, perhaps best captured by one of the performers, Sal Davies. The 72-year-old cotton head veteran artiste who flatly refused to be bowed for insisting on having his say achieved a rare feat, albeit inadvertently.

Sal’s voice was caught on-air ranting about what he termed as the relics of the dictatorship of yesteryears. In the ensuing near-scuffle that ended only after President Uhuru Kenyatta intervened the senescent artist had the last laugh. Times, indeed, have changed.

Aside from the nostalgia awakened by the Mashujaa Day carnivore aspect, a few concerns about what really we ought to be celebrating as we turn 50 — but are not — came to mind.

One, our artists. Yes, lately there has been a real effort to recognise artists as the true ‘umpires of taste’ in any society, as the renowned poet and philosopher, Ralph Waldo Emerson, once famously proclaimed. I was pleasantly surprised that the old man, Juma Ali Mwagusi,  whose flute gave  the Voice of Kenya ‘Zandale’ is still alive and well though frail and diminished.

It made for tears to watch the choir of little angels of Mwakigena Choir with their Wimbo wa Historia/Kenya Yetu. Now clearly aging women, these songsters sang the solemn piece that most elegantly immortalises the fate suffered by Kenya’s independence heroes.

Emblems of identity

Nabil Sansoor’s ‘Karibuni Kenya’ and Teddy Kalanda’s ‘Jambo Kenya’ , themselves elementary but nonetheless simple emblems of our national identity sounded as new as they always do.  Muungano and its epic and evergreen compositions was simply astounding.

The icing of the entertainers’ line-up was of course, the hilarious, if whimsical, Creative Generation duo whose antics tickled many to tears.

I am not sure it is wise at all to continue parading great works and performers, old and young, from our local artistes stable as mere vestiges of good humour. And I do agree fully with the emerging efforts that seem more determined than ever before to carve an industry out of artistic talent.

Time to honour artists, rightfully — the beacons of our identity as a nation — is with us now. And there can never be a better time than during the Golden Jubilee whose mood we are now immersed in.

Two, at 50, as we think of the reconstruction of our nation state we ought not to forget the many things for which we have a genuine reason to celebrate. For instance, we no longer have a reason to express our disquiet, real or fake, while taking cover in caves or dark alleys.

While this freedom has led to gross irresponsibility in part, the need for ‘Pambana’ and ‘Mwakenya’ type of antics against the government of the day thus far has been consigned to a remote corner of our history’s dumping yard. 

In our typical Kenyan style, very few things qualify for praise however profound. When, for example, the first announcement that we had struck oil came through, many commentators were swift to impose the fate of nations whose oil has become a curse instead of a blessing in anticipation and well in advance. Very few voices among those remembered the countries that have put this natural resource to great use. The same goes with the story of the many minerals that several parts of Kenya are claimed to host.

We have sadly become a nation of negative energy. Only in exceptional circumstances, but seemingly exclusively when a catastrophe strikes, do we exude a great yet transient camaraderie. At such moments, we make momentary stars, notable heroes and heroines and then forget them immediately afterwards. How sad!

True heroes

Three, as we reflect on where Kenya has sojourned over the decades and the type of heroes we have raised, this is also the best time to ask who true heroes really are. The moral-ethical environments we live in breed our notion of heroism. Obviously, in an environment teeming with charlatans, sloths and deadwood, celebs of every colour and hue pop up from all manner of crevices. 

The risk a society runs when the path to stardom of its people is defined by nominal and worthless accomplishments is potentially harmful to a nation. That’s why I believe the yardstick of our stardom calls for a comprehensive review.

Clearly, at 50 we have enough heroes and heroines. Many are living but unnoticed and scores are in the making. Fair, unclouded and forthright methods of identifying, acknowledging and honouring them should be one of Kenya’s key quests at 50. 

The author is the Editor, Culture Section, Diplomat East Africa