| Page 5 of 5 < |
Growing Beyond the Pull of the Tribe in Kenya
Seniors Frida Gacheri, left, Eva Njeri and Janet Ndambuki say they are good friends, though from different tribes.
(By Emily Wax -- The Washington Post)
TOOLBOX
   Resize
COMMENT
 Discussion Policy
 CLOSE
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
Who's Blogging  |
The girls shared their ambitions. Eva wants to be a pilot. Janet wants to work in the tourism industry. Frida would like to work in finance. They all worry about their future -- not just about the 70 percent unemployment rate, but also about their access to jobs.
"Hiring based on tribe is very much there," said Maria Atieno, a Luo, who shared a desk with Frida, a Meru. "It's the way people are raised -- your tribe is still the priority. It's bad, but it's life."
"You spend so much time and live with each other in school, hopefully something will change," said Janet, crouched over a physics book. "You can't just give one of your own people jobs because you have power."
In unison, they hummed a hip-hop song called "Bless My Room," by a Kenyan band called Necessary Noise. The lyrics tell the story of the depressing life of poverty for a teenager whose country is torn apart by tribalism and corruption.
"It's like my favorite line in a Nigerian book is, 'It's not what you know, it's who you know,' " said Frida, quoting from "A Man of the People," a 1966 novel by Nigeria's Chinua Achebe. "That really meant something to me. I think that's what we are fighting against."
But what will happen after they graduate, when they meet on the street or perhaps on a job, the friends asked each other.
"Would you offer me the job since I was your desk mate and you know my merits and how hard I studied?" Maria asked. "Or would you give it to a Meru tribes member, who may know your parents?"
The room, usually filled with high-pitched teenage voices, fell silent. Outside, the wind ruffled the banana trees, and construction workers hammered away on a dorm for future students.
"I don't really know what I would do," Frida said, doodling on her math notes with a pencil. "I have to be honest and say I would think about it a lot. But even now, I know it won't be that easy for me to refuse my own people."
