By Mugambi Nandi
Even late bloomers will by now be familiar with the term “Nyumba Kumi”, the latest government initiative aimed at curbing insecurity through community policing. Deny it if you can, but terrorism has changed the way we go about our lives.
And the transformation is far from complete. Hardly two decades ago, the humiliating body searches, which are now common at airports, would have elicited indignation even among the very timid. When, a few years back, the authorities in the United Kingdom announced that CCTV cameras would be installed in all public places, there was outrage about invasion of privacy (I cannot wrap my head around how anyone who voluntarily comes out into the streets in broad daylight can at the same time lay claim to privacy).
With anywhere between two and six million CCTV cameras (the exact number seems to be a state secret), the United Kingdom authorities are closely watching their people. The debate about security versus privacy is now all but dead. Here at home, general insecurity and threats of terrorism have seen a number of measures being taken by government as well as property owners.
There is the grand project to install about 40 cameras in Nairobi. Then there is the ubiquitous handheld metal detector. The jury is still out on its efficacy.
And now, without reinventing the wheel, we have Nyumba Kumi. Tanzania has had it for a while. They have it in Rwanda too. Rural folk are the butt of many a joke. One of them, told by their recently urbanised cousins, is that they are so friendly that upon boarding a bus they greet fellow passengers. In advanced forms of this friendliness, they shake everyone’s hand. As they alight, they bid everyone farewell and ask them to pass their regards wherever they are going.
The wheel has now turned full circle, and the urbanised cousin, whose hallmark of civilisation is his unfriendliness, has to know, not just one, but ten of his neighbours! And to make matters worse, he has no choice in the matter, because it is government policy.
Some people have objected to the idea on the basis that it is unconstitutional as it compels us to “join” a neighbourhood association.
There have been objections too, that the concept was originally conceived by governments that had no regard for human rights and whose intention was to spy on, control and manipulate the people.
Finally, there is suspicion that the government could use Nyumba Kumi as a tool for political mobilisation during elections. I am curious to know how the idea will work in middle and upper income residential areas. If, through bad luck or poor judgment, you happen to live in an apartment like me, it is easy to tell who your neighbour is. Talking of neighbours, in the famous 1932 case of Donoghue v Stevenson, Mrs Donoghue sued for damages for gastroenteritis and nervous shock, after consuming beer from a bottle which had a snail in it.
In accepting her claim against the manufacturer, the court stated that the rule that you must love your neighbour meant that you must not injure her.
Thus was born the neighbour principle in law, that you must take reasonable care not to cause harm to others who might be affected by your acts and omissions. The unofficial “know thy neighbour” policy has been thriving in the rural areas for many years, and will continue to do so in the foreseeable future.
In those places, everyone knows everyone (and everything about them) within a ten square mile radius. The village thief is as well known as the village shopkeeper. A stranger who settles among them will be known far and wide within no time. That is how Nyumba Kumi is meant to work. Perhaps Westgate would not have happened if the “White Widow” had been smoked out by her neighbours.