The documentary film, "Darwin's Nightmare: A Celluloid Dream Release," sheds light on the extremes of globalization and the impact it has had on Mwanza, an East African urban center. Many of the villages around the Tanzanian lakeside town are stricken by HIV-AIDS, and regularly lose their breadwinners. Young women, many of them widowed by AIDS, are forced into prostitution to support themselves and their families. The fishermen who catch Nile Perch from the lake for their livelihoods are unable to eat the same fish: it is too expensive for them. All their catch is sold to the factories that process the fish for exportation to Western Europe.
So what do the fishermen and their families eat? They eat the remains from the processing plants i.e. the rejected fish, and the parts that are unappetizing for the Western European consumers. As if that is not bad enough, it transpires that the Nile Perch are foreign to Lake Victoria, and that their introduction to the lake has created an environmental disaster. Who knows how many indigenous species have been drastically impacted by the introduction of that commercial fish? I wonder what further impact that has had on the people of the lakeside who have, for centuries, depended upon the lake for food.
Within the film, Hon. Joseph Munyao, the Kenyan Minister for Livestock and Fisheries, expresses his disappointment that those who film Africa tend to focus on the negative instead of highlighting the positive. Are politicians right in saying that Western media tends to portray sub-Saharan Africa in a negative light? Yes, they are, but it is also true that the events being filmed do happen, not just in our nations, but also in every other nation in the world. Anyone that reads the news regularly is aware of several environmental crises all over the world. Additionally, poverty in different parts of the world is often highlighted in documentaries. That includes poverty in the most powerful nation- the USA. Remember Katrina.
If a documentary film happens to highlight our actual failings, how responsible is it for us to be preoccupied with our public image? It seems to me it would be more fitting to focus on the problems highlighted by the film and to try to address them.
This essay is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.
Please feel free to use my writing for non-commercial purposes and do credit my
name, Rose Kahendi, as the writer.
Friday, January 5, 2007
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Inter-African Ties
I read columnist Wallace Kantai’s “Ties with North Africa Shallow” in the February 26th, 2006 edition of the Sunday Standard with
great interest. In it, Mr. Kantai expounds on the idea belief that any ties connecting sub-Saharan African nations to North African nations are shallow. However, I ultimately disagree with his conclusions.
In my opinion, Africa is first and foremost a geographical entity. Therefore Algeria,Morocco, Tunisia, Libya and Egypt are incontestably African. Another articulation of what it means to be African is racial. However, in reality, we can’t seem to agree on precisely what it means to be black. The moment that we try to determine whether it’s skin color, hair texture, the shape of one's lips, nose or physical frame that makes one ‘African’,we hit a roadblock. There’s also the idea that being African is political. A few decades ago, when we were united by anti-colonization movements, we readily accepted Ben Bella, Abdel Nasser and others as African. Today we are less flexible. Our political priorities have changed.
Kantai cites the Algerian experience, referring to its ruling class’s choice to identify it as an Arab nation and seemingly deny its Berber or Kabyle-African identity. It is true that the ideology of Arabism has been given precedence in official state rhetoric, but Algeria has never simply been an Arab nation. The question of ethnic and cultural identity is constantly being contested in Algeria, and is a major contributor to the political tensions there. Several Algerian public figures are explicit about their ethnic identities. They refer to themselves as Berbers, Arabised-Berbers, or Arabs. Several have specifically referred to themselves as Africans.
But let’s make allowance for the fact that several North Africans do identify themselves as Arabs. Is there a contradiction between readily partaking of both Arab and African identities? I think not. Arab identity is cultural, first and foremost, not racial and not continental. Being Arab usually implies a certain relation to the Arabic language. The people we call Arabs today are not all descended from one region of the world; they include Africans and Asians and, arguably, some with European roots. The designation‘Arab’ includes members of several different races (if one still thinks it necessary to speak of race).
It makes practical sense for North African nations to make alliances with Middle Eastern nations: they share cultural, religious and linguistic ties. To a certain degree, they share a common history. This does not make them less African. It makes them complex. We are similarly complex: The East African coast has long been part of an Indian Ocean trading community, and present-day Kenya continues to have ties to the Persian Gulf, the Arab peninsula, the Indian sub-continent and the islands of the Indian Ocean. Does this stop us from being African?
Do the economic ties between North Africa and Europe make North Africa more European? North Africa has a Mediterranean coastline. So do France, Greece,Spain, Italy, Portugal,and Turkey. The regions are in close geographical proximity and have traded for centuries.They have cultural ties as well. Economic pragmatism demands that they take advantage of these ties. How different are we Kenyans? We are largely oriented towards the British Commonwealth, and are highly dependent on the Anglo-American entity for our economic survival. The global economic balance is tipped in Europe’s favor, so just like Sub-Saharan Africans, North Africans will obviously try to manoeuvre themselves into more profitable economic relationships. One could argue that the heart and soul of Sub-Saharan Africa belongs more to the West than does that of North Africa. After all, we sub-Saharans have adopted European religions and languages more whole-heartedly. Does that make us less African?
There is no simple African identity. What it means to be African varies from region to region. When Mr. Kantai says that our compatriotism with North Africa is built on shallow sands, he is speaking from a Kenyan standpoint. A Senegalese Muslim would not have similar conclusions, because trade and Islam have long linked Western Africa to the Maghreb. In fact, there are compelling reasons to argue that there are stronger ties between Senegal and Morocco than there are between Senegal and Kenya.It is sometimes valuable to examine the meaning of being African. However, when we restrict the meaning of this term to race, we risk ignoring the continent’s rich diversity and our own cultural, linguistic and historical ties to other continents.
![Creative Commons License]()
This essay
is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported
License. Please feel free to use my writing
for non-commercial purposes and do credit my name, Rose Kahendi, as the
writer.
In my opinion, Africa is first and foremost a geographical entity. Therefore Algeria,Morocco, Tunisia, Libya and Egypt are incontestably African. Another articulation of what it means to be African is racial. However, in reality, we can’t seem to agree on precisely what it means to be black. The moment that we try to determine whether it’s skin color, hair texture, the shape of one's lips, nose or physical frame that makes one ‘African’,we hit a roadblock. There’s also the idea that being African is political. A few decades ago, when we were united by anti-colonization movements, we readily accepted Ben Bella, Abdel Nasser and others as African. Today we are less flexible. Our political priorities have changed.
Kantai cites the Algerian experience, referring to its ruling class’s choice to identify it as an Arab nation and seemingly deny its Berber or Kabyle-African identity. It is true that the ideology of Arabism has been given precedence in official state rhetoric, but Algeria has never simply been an Arab nation. The question of ethnic and cultural identity is constantly being contested in Algeria, and is a major contributor to the political tensions there. Several Algerian public figures are explicit about their ethnic identities. They refer to themselves as Berbers, Arabised-Berbers, or Arabs. Several have specifically referred to themselves as Africans.
But let’s make allowance for the fact that several North Africans do identify themselves as Arabs. Is there a contradiction between readily partaking of both Arab and African identities? I think not. Arab identity is cultural, first and foremost, not racial and not continental. Being Arab usually implies a certain relation to the Arabic language. The people we call Arabs today are not all descended from one region of the world; they include Africans and Asians and, arguably, some with European roots. The designation‘Arab’ includes members of several different races (if one still thinks it necessary to speak of race).
It makes practical sense for North African nations to make alliances with Middle Eastern nations: they share cultural, religious and linguistic ties. To a certain degree, they share a common history. This does not make them less African. It makes them complex. We are similarly complex: The East African coast has long been part of an Indian Ocean trading community, and present-day Kenya continues to have ties to the Persian Gulf, the Arab peninsula, the Indian sub-continent and the islands of the Indian Ocean. Does this stop us from being African?
Do the economic ties between North Africa and Europe make North Africa more European? North Africa has a Mediterranean coastline. So do France, Greece,Spain, Italy, Portugal,and Turkey. The regions are in close geographical proximity and have traded for centuries.They have cultural ties as well. Economic pragmatism demands that they take advantage of these ties. How different are we Kenyans? We are largely oriented towards the British Commonwealth, and are highly dependent on the Anglo-American entity for our economic survival. The global economic balance is tipped in Europe’s favor, so just like Sub-Saharan Africans, North Africans will obviously try to manoeuvre themselves into more profitable economic relationships. One could argue that the heart and soul of Sub-Saharan Africa belongs more to the West than does that of North Africa. After all, we sub-Saharans have adopted European religions and languages more whole-heartedly. Does that make us less African?
There is no simple African identity. What it means to be African varies from region to region. When Mr. Kantai says that our compatriotism with North Africa is built on shallow sands, he is speaking from a Kenyan standpoint. A Senegalese Muslim would not have similar conclusions, because trade and Islam have long linked Western Africa to the Maghreb. In fact, there are compelling reasons to argue that there are stronger ties between Senegal and Morocco than there are between Senegal and Kenya.It is sometimes valuable to examine the meaning of being African. However, when we restrict the meaning of this term to race, we risk ignoring the continent’s rich diversity and our own cultural, linguistic and historical ties to other continents.
Friday, December 29, 2006
"Give us us free"
I
found myself smiling as I read Michael Dequina’s review of Amistad (http://aalbc.com/reviews/amistad.htm). I did agree with him that
the film was American-centered, especially with its focus on the courtroom
drama; but that was to be expected. Amistad is an American film, directed
and produced by Americans for an American audience. However, something about
that film touched me.
Language is of essence in Amistad. That the viewer had no clue
what Sengbe Pieh and the other Africans were saying as they revolted was not
accidental. The decision to exclude subtitles for the beginning portion of the
film was a deliberate one. It made the men, women and children inscrutable
figures to the viewer. Their silhouettes were only visible in the moonlight as
they struck at their Spanish ‘masters’. Just as the distinguishing features and
marks on their faces were invisible to the terror-stricken crew, they had to
remain so to the viewer. Their humanity was thus masked, hidden from the viewer.
The viewer was being forced to see things from the perspective of the Spanish
men. It was only when the violent act had been performed and the tables were
turned that the faceless Africans became distinct human beings.
The
emergence of the West Africans seems to be reversed when they are recaptured.
Their inability to speak for themselves in the courthouse underlines this new
powerlessness. At several points in the narrative, a clash between two
‘universes’ (‘African’ and ‘Western’) is obvious. The two universes refuse to
overlap and for a while it seems that the West Africans’ true story is fated to
remain unheard. However, the illuminating sub-titles reveal a parallelism
between the 2 universes: Sengbe Pieh speaks of the place from which he came in
response to Roger S Baldwin’s inquiry. Their communication is possible, not
through their words, but through their gestures and movements. Later, ‘James
Covey’, a bilingual Mende and English speaker emerges and is charged with
facilitating communication between the Africans and the non-Africans. These
instances seem to level the playing field for the West Africans.
Traduttore…Traditore. Translator… traitor.
By self-consciously pointing at the layers of mediation
involved in ‘telling the story’, the film seems to proclaim that interpretation
is inevitable and sometimes deceptive. Notwithstanding these obstacles, the
story must be told. The questions remain: How does one tell the story of the
West Africans to an American audience? Is it possible to take away the American
lenses and look at the West Africans through West African eyes? Would such an
attempt prove unintelligible to an American audience?
Instead of answering these questions, I point to additional instances of
‘mediation’ in the film: Consider the transformation of the West Africans’
clothing as the film progresses. Their near nakedness in the holds of the ship
is followed by the revolt. They then find cloth to drape themselves in.
Afterwards, during their later appearances in the courthouse they are uniformly
clothed in simple ‘Western’ clothing. It is almost as if they have been ‘tamed’,
made more aesthetically pleasing to those sitting in the courtroom and to the
viewer. Their humanity rises a notch higher in the eyes of those observing. As
the film progresses, it seems that the West Africans are starting to look more
like ‘us’. The process that transforms ‘us’, allowing ‘us’ to understand them
better, transforms them as well. Their appearance transforms, and they are
slowly pulled into the Western worldview through their encounter with the Bible.
The linguist, Gibbs, teaches Baldwin and his colleagues to count in Mende and
Sengbe Pieh demands his freedom in English.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
The AIDS Memorial Quilt
Late last month the AIDS Memorial Quilt came to town, and I was one of several who went to look at it. Standing before the quilt and looking at the elaborate embroidery and patchwork, I felt peaceful. It was strange standing there, marveling at the beauty, and yet simultaneously aware that each piece marked a life lost, a human being painfully wrenched away from loved ones. How was it that several years of pain had been translated into soothing colors and boldly outlined words? I was awed at the power of the quilt to arrest my steps and to pull me in close enough to follow the stories of the young heroes and heroines.
To one section of the quilt, friends and family had carefully sewn pictures of the woman they had loved and lost- pictures taken at different points in her life. My eyes moved from picture to picture, wondering whom she was smiling at in that picture, and why there was a twinkle in her eye in the next. Who had selected each picture? Was it her mother, whom I could see cradling her baby daughter in the black and white picture in the right hand corner of the panel? How deep her grief must be to have lost her daughter, and how intense her desire to remember her and to share these memories with us. Did she feel an ache inside when she looked at that picture and remembered?
Why did I feel compelled to sit down facing the quilt, and to gaze at it for minutes? What did I actually see and feel in those pictures, in the purple and red hearts, in the shiny material and in the soft velvet? Was I sharing with mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives and lovers in the act of remembering? How was it that I felt as if I was looking through the scrapbook of my closest friend? I could not possibly have been born when that picture was taken, and yet I could remember the sepia-toned moment as if it was yesterday.
This essay is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License. Please feel free to use my writing for non-commercial purposes and do credit my name (Rose Kahendi) as the writer.
Sunday, February 5, 2006
Mustakbali Mpya?
Miaka nenda, miaka rudi
Kuzungukazunguka desturi yetu.
Ramani waliyotupa tunayo mikononi
Lakini yatuelekeza jangwani.
Waliahidi kutufikisha mbuga za peponi.
Leo twajikuta Jehanamu.
Zi wapi hekaheka za madaraka na uhuru?
Ndoto zetu zimekufa.
Bendera zimechakaa, zimeraruka.
Tumeanguka, miguu imevunjika.
Na bado twaimba nyimbo za kale.
Eti twajivunia amani, uhuru na madaraka.
Enzi za ukoloni zimepita,
Lakini kujilisha, kujivisha tumeshindwa.
Eti amani, uhuru na madaraka?
Ndiyo. Amani, uhuru na madaraka;
Madaraka ya vibaraka;
Wanavijiji mafukara wa “Global Village”.
Watoto wa bara wameamka.
Urithi wetu hawautaki, mienendo yetu wanaikana.
Lakini mwana wa nyoka ni nyoka.
Wataujenga upya uafrika?
![Creative Commons License]()
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.
Please feel free to use my writing for non-commercial purposes and do credit my
name, Rose Kahendi, as the writer.
Tumekuwa
tukitaradadi.
Tumeelekea mbele,
tumerudi nyuma.Kuzungukazunguka desturi yetu.
Ramani waliyotupa tunayo mikononi
Lakini yatuelekeza jangwani.
Waliahidi kutufikisha mbuga za peponi.
Leo twajikuta Jehanamu.
Zi wapi hekaheka za madaraka na uhuru?
Ndoto zetu zimekufa.
Bendera zimechakaa, zimeraruka.
Tumeanguka, miguu imevunjika.
Na bado twaimba nyimbo za kale.
Eti twajivunia amani, uhuru na madaraka.
Enzi za ukoloni zimepita,
Lakini kujilisha, kujivisha tumeshindwa.
Eti amani, uhuru na madaraka?
Ndiyo. Amani, uhuru na madaraka;
Madaraka ya vibaraka;
Wanavijiji mafukara wa “Global Village”.
Watoto wa bara wameamka.
Urithi wetu hawautaki, mienendo yetu wanaikana.
Lakini mwana wa nyoka ni nyoka.
Wataujenga upya uafrika?
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Moving beyond pity
I am uncomfortable with the fact that society teaches us to pity those who we believe to be less fortunate than we are rather than to empathize with them. Pity implies an imagined sense of superiority over the other, so that we end up looking at an individual who was born without sight, for instance, and who has lived that way all their lives as having a less complete existence than a sighted person. I instinctively feel that this is wrong. But it’s far easier to recognize this wrong than it is to change it.
Every aspect of my life is touched by my ability to see. Even the way I dream, think and imagine is directly related to my ability to register and to respond to colors and shapes. I cannot even begin to imagine how I would map the streets of my town, and the insides of buildings and gardens, relying on my senses of smell, hearing and touch to do so. All the same, I can’t help feeling that my blind friend sees my perception of the world as a completely alien experience.
Many people like to imagine that given the chance to reverse a disability such as blindness, anyone would grasp at the chance. I wonder about that. After all, it is very difficult, even traumatizing to have to adjust to unfamiliar stimuli, loud and unfamiliar shapes and colors, at an advanced age. One’s eyes have never learnt to judge distances, or even to perceive depth. The brain has long developed without input from the visual organs. Wouldn’t learning how to see at this point be a very difficult experience? This thought makes me realize that there’s much more to our senses than we understand.
If we care enough to listen, look and appreciate, we will realize that there is much more to an individual’s experience of life than that which draws our pity. Pity is unfortunate. It does not bring us closer to understanding each other. Rather, it highlights our differences, and pushes us apart. Instead of pity, I propose empathy. How about talking to people, and learning what challenges and joys they experience daily? How about finding out from them how exactly their quality of life and their ability to support themselves can be improved rather than imagining that we know the solutions to their predicaments? And instead of seeing our own experiences as the norm, the standard by which other people’s lives should be judged, how about seeing other people’s lives as legitimate and dignified experiences from which we can learn?
In saying all this, I am aware that the state of affairs in several countries globally is complicated: Educational facilities for people with various disabilities are limited. Employment is often hard to come by, and access to wheelchairs, hearing aids, and other devices that would make a drastic difference, is limited by financial considerations. As if these are not bad enough, ignorance often reigns, leading many to view disability as a curse, and to shun the disabled and stigmatize them. Fortunately, some countries have set precedents by creating legislation to level the playing field, so to speak. But these have often come only after long ‘battles’ bravely fought.
First published in TakingITGlobal's Panorama Zine on 31st January, 2006.
Every aspect of my life is touched by my ability to see. Even the way I dream, think and imagine is directly related to my ability to register and to respond to colors and shapes. I cannot even begin to imagine how I would map the streets of my town, and the insides of buildings and gardens, relying on my senses of smell, hearing and touch to do so. All the same, I can’t help feeling that my blind friend sees my perception of the world as a completely alien experience.
Many people like to imagine that given the chance to reverse a disability such as blindness, anyone would grasp at the chance. I wonder about that. After all, it is very difficult, even traumatizing to have to adjust to unfamiliar stimuli, loud and unfamiliar shapes and colors, at an advanced age. One’s eyes have never learnt to judge distances, or even to perceive depth. The brain has long developed without input from the visual organs. Wouldn’t learning how to see at this point be a very difficult experience? This thought makes me realize that there’s much more to our senses than we understand.
If we care enough to listen, look and appreciate, we will realize that there is much more to an individual’s experience of life than that which draws our pity. Pity is unfortunate. It does not bring us closer to understanding each other. Rather, it highlights our differences, and pushes us apart. Instead of pity, I propose empathy. How about talking to people, and learning what challenges and joys they experience daily? How about finding out from them how exactly their quality of life and their ability to support themselves can be improved rather than imagining that we know the solutions to their predicaments? And instead of seeing our own experiences as the norm, the standard by which other people’s lives should be judged, how about seeing other people’s lives as legitimate and dignified experiences from which we can learn?
In saying all this, I am aware that the state of affairs in several countries globally is complicated: Educational facilities for people with various disabilities are limited. Employment is often hard to come by, and access to wheelchairs, hearing aids, and other devices that would make a drastic difference, is limited by financial considerations. As if these are not bad enough, ignorance often reigns, leading many to view disability as a curse, and to shun the disabled and stigmatize them. Fortunately, some countries have set precedents by creating legislation to level the playing field, so to speak. But these have often come only after long ‘battles’ bravely fought.
First published in TakingITGlobal's Panorama Zine on 31st January, 2006.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Rethinking AIDS, rethinking our cities
Once again, December approaches, and once more, “World Aids Day” arrives: the world’s attention is temporarily riveted to a health crisis.
But why should the “remembrance” of AIDS be consigned to one specific day? Isn’t AIDS a daily reality for millions? Are we going to turn our engagement with HIV-AIDS and related issues into a once-a-year event during which we wear red ribbons, attend a rally, visit a gallery, sign a visitors’ book, and then take a deep breath and move on to a new chapter in our lives?
Will December the 2nd be a new day with a new cause and with different concerns completely disconnected from those of the 1st of the month?
It’s highly likely that for several people the answer to these questions will be “Yes”. After all, it is typical in this day and age for us to devote our full attention to a given issue for a short period of time before fatigue sets in and we lose all zeal for the cause. The question is, “Why do we behave this way”? The answer is probably that we don’t know what else to do.
Any problem is our problem only for as long as it touches us, and then, if it has no direct bearing on our daily lives, we leave it behind. Interestingly enough, though, the very problems that we refuse to “own” are the same ones that claim us and pull us down years later. The fact staring us in the face is that all our problems are interconnected. While several in the “developed” world might think of HIV-AIDS as a problem limited to the “undeveloped” world, it is unrealistic to do so.
HIV-AIDS has had a huge impact on every aspect of human life. On a personal level, millions have lost their parents, siblings and friends: families and communities have been broken apart or even annihilated. Do we have any idea what impact child-led households are going to have on our societies? Not really, but this is a reality that is facing several regions. National economies are already facing the challenges associated with shrinking workforces. The lack of access to formal education is becoming an even more pressing problem and religious groups are facing existential crises. Malnutrition, which was already a major problem, is only going to become more acute. The future impact on the global economy is looming. Keep in mind that this is only a minuscule part of the picture. For each issue or problem mentioned, there are thousands more that go unnoticed or unarticulated.
The trauma that is HIV-AIDS first came to our attention in the early 1980s and yet, more than 20 years later, we still don’t know what to do. It is still a highly stigmatized condition, and we still insist on condemning the subject to whispered conversations. Why are we unable to talk frankly and openly about it even today? Is it because we think of it as a sexually transmitted disease, or is it because it is so often fatal? Is it because we think that it is a disease that only strikes individuals of a certain race or of a certain sexual orientation? Is it because we view it as a punishment from God? And why don’t we talk about AIDS when we talk about urban planning, “development,” urbanization, finance, governance, safety and security? Several barriers remain to be crossed, but few want to be the first to attempt the crossing.
AIDS is very much tied up with the events and conditions of the 20th century. For this reason, perhaps, it is still a murky subject about which people say much without actually reaching any conclusions. Everything about AIDS is still being contested on some arena or another. A cursory glance at the literature on the subject reveals that not everyone is in agreement about the origins of the disease, about what methods should be used to limit its spread and about its epidemiology.
One of the myths concerning AIDS is that it is associated with a specific race. However, its impact has already been felt on more than two continents. The fact of the matter is that AIDS is very much associated with poverty and with the trauma of colonization and rapid urbanization. The 19th, 20th and now 21st centuries have seen revolutions in several aspects of human society. All these transformations, associated with “development,” have caused such disturbances in social relations, in sexuality, in family structures, and in nutrition that it is not surprising that HIV-AIDS has taken on epidemic proportions in specific regions of the world.
HIV-AIDS is certainly not solely an urban disease. However, its spread cannot be separated from the mushrooming of urban centers, and the growth of the transportation systems linking them.
Case in point: the lorry drivers who plied the road networks linking the coastal towns of Eastern and Southern Africa to the landlocked nations in the heart of the continent were among the first sizeable known group of victims in the region. And in Southern Africa, where thousands upon thousands leave their rural homes, often crossing national borders to seek employment in mines, husbands and wives are separated for years at a time. Not surprisingly, patterns of sexual behavior are affected; both men and women seek extra-marital sexual partners. Driven by a need to feed and clothe their families, several move to and from urban centers, carrying the infection with them.
To further complicate the picture, health facilities are not widely accessible and available in urban and rural areas. Medical treatment is beyond economic and physical reach. As a result, the management of opportunistic infections associated with HIV-AIDS is a nightmare.
How does one begin to address these complications within the rubric of a discussion on urban sustainability? Frankly speaking, I have no idea. The city in Kenya, India or anywhere else in the world for that matter, is a behemoth that one can hardly begin to describe. It is almost impossible for a single individual to know every part of a city intimately or to be familiar with the lifestyles of all its residents. When planners sit down to construct a city or to modify it, the concerns of the lower income groups are often not factored in. Cities in colonized territories were often segregated, with careful planning dedicated to the colonizers’ quarters and “modern” facilities incorporated within these privileged sections, while less attention was paid to “natives' ” quarters.
Several independent nations inherited such cities. Rapid population growth and increased migration complicated already uneven situations. Next to the more prosperous, well-planned neighborhoods, shanty-towns grew larger and larger. Increasingly drastic economic disparities have compounded the situation even more. Thus, while in some cities, urban planners are able to talk about expanding transportation systems, or creating more environmentally-friendly means, in other cities, the discussion cannot be as straightforward.
In Nairobi, for instance, tens of thousands (this figure is likely an underestimation) walk across the city for two or more hours everyday to get to their places of work. About half of Nairobi’s population is estimated to live in slums with inadequate sanitary facilities and medical facilities, few schools and high insecurity. Projects to upgrade these slums have been discussed, and some are underway. I am not qualified to comment on the progress of these projects, but cannot help feeling that it will take a long time before their effectiveness is felt. Keeping this in mind, if one considers the effect of a disease such as AIDS on the national community then it becomes clear that the obstacles that lie ahead are even larger than what has been visualized.
There’s no room here to go into the impact that global slavery, imperialism, genocide, wars and the plunder of our environment have had on the development of our nations and cities. However, I want to emphasize the importance of keeping these factors in mind when we talk about development and urban planning. Our slums and cities have histories which are tied up with the factors that led to development and spread of diseases such as HIV-AIDS.
We need to examine the direct and indirect connections between impoverishment, our political set-ups, environmental degradation and disease. We have to examine the connections between the policies of global monetary bodies and the conditions of recipient nations or between the break-down of our ecological systems and the breakdown of our social systems and of our immune systems. Otherwise we will continue to propose solutions that only address one thread in a constantly evolving and growing tapestry.
First published in TakingITGlobal's Panorama Zine on 27th November, 2005.
But why should the “remembrance” of AIDS be consigned to one specific day? Isn’t AIDS a daily reality for millions? Are we going to turn our engagement with HIV-AIDS and related issues into a once-a-year event during which we wear red ribbons, attend a rally, visit a gallery, sign a visitors’ book, and then take a deep breath and move on to a new chapter in our lives?
Will December the 2nd be a new day with a new cause and with different concerns completely disconnected from those of the 1st of the month?
It’s highly likely that for several people the answer to these questions will be “Yes”. After all, it is typical in this day and age for us to devote our full attention to a given issue for a short period of time before fatigue sets in and we lose all zeal for the cause. The question is, “Why do we behave this way”? The answer is probably that we don’t know what else to do.
Any problem is our problem only for as long as it touches us, and then, if it has no direct bearing on our daily lives, we leave it behind. Interestingly enough, though, the very problems that we refuse to “own” are the same ones that claim us and pull us down years later. The fact staring us in the face is that all our problems are interconnected. While several in the “developed” world might think of HIV-AIDS as a problem limited to the “undeveloped” world, it is unrealistic to do so.
HIV-AIDS has had a huge impact on every aspect of human life. On a personal level, millions have lost their parents, siblings and friends: families and communities have been broken apart or even annihilated. Do we have any idea what impact child-led households are going to have on our societies? Not really, but this is a reality that is facing several regions. National economies are already facing the challenges associated with shrinking workforces. The lack of access to formal education is becoming an even more pressing problem and religious groups are facing existential crises. Malnutrition, which was already a major problem, is only going to become more acute. The future impact on the global economy is looming. Keep in mind that this is only a minuscule part of the picture. For each issue or problem mentioned, there are thousands more that go unnoticed or unarticulated.
The trauma that is HIV-AIDS first came to our attention in the early 1980s and yet, more than 20 years later, we still don’t know what to do. It is still a highly stigmatized condition, and we still insist on condemning the subject to whispered conversations. Why are we unable to talk frankly and openly about it even today? Is it because we think of it as a sexually transmitted disease, or is it because it is so often fatal? Is it because we think that it is a disease that only strikes individuals of a certain race or of a certain sexual orientation? Is it because we view it as a punishment from God? And why don’t we talk about AIDS when we talk about urban planning, “development,” urbanization, finance, governance, safety and security? Several barriers remain to be crossed, but few want to be the first to attempt the crossing.
AIDS is very much tied up with the events and conditions of the 20th century. For this reason, perhaps, it is still a murky subject about which people say much without actually reaching any conclusions. Everything about AIDS is still being contested on some arena or another. A cursory glance at the literature on the subject reveals that not everyone is in agreement about the origins of the disease, about what methods should be used to limit its spread and about its epidemiology.
One of the myths concerning AIDS is that it is associated with a specific race. However, its impact has already been felt on more than two continents. The fact of the matter is that AIDS is very much associated with poverty and with the trauma of colonization and rapid urbanization. The 19th, 20th and now 21st centuries have seen revolutions in several aspects of human society. All these transformations, associated with “development,” have caused such disturbances in social relations, in sexuality, in family structures, and in nutrition that it is not surprising that HIV-AIDS has taken on epidemic proportions in specific regions of the world.
HIV-AIDS is certainly not solely an urban disease. However, its spread cannot be separated from the mushrooming of urban centers, and the growth of the transportation systems linking them.
Case in point: the lorry drivers who plied the road networks linking the coastal towns of Eastern and Southern Africa to the landlocked nations in the heart of the continent were among the first sizeable known group of victims in the region. And in Southern Africa, where thousands upon thousands leave their rural homes, often crossing national borders to seek employment in mines, husbands and wives are separated for years at a time. Not surprisingly, patterns of sexual behavior are affected; both men and women seek extra-marital sexual partners. Driven by a need to feed and clothe their families, several move to and from urban centers, carrying the infection with them.
To further complicate the picture, health facilities are not widely accessible and available in urban and rural areas. Medical treatment is beyond economic and physical reach. As a result, the management of opportunistic infections associated with HIV-AIDS is a nightmare.
How does one begin to address these complications within the rubric of a discussion on urban sustainability? Frankly speaking, I have no idea. The city in Kenya, India or anywhere else in the world for that matter, is a behemoth that one can hardly begin to describe. It is almost impossible for a single individual to know every part of a city intimately or to be familiar with the lifestyles of all its residents. When planners sit down to construct a city or to modify it, the concerns of the lower income groups are often not factored in. Cities in colonized territories were often segregated, with careful planning dedicated to the colonizers’ quarters and “modern” facilities incorporated within these privileged sections, while less attention was paid to “natives' ” quarters.
Several independent nations inherited such cities. Rapid population growth and increased migration complicated already uneven situations. Next to the more prosperous, well-planned neighborhoods, shanty-towns grew larger and larger. Increasingly drastic economic disparities have compounded the situation even more. Thus, while in some cities, urban planners are able to talk about expanding transportation systems, or creating more environmentally-friendly means, in other cities, the discussion cannot be as straightforward.
In Nairobi, for instance, tens of thousands (this figure is likely an underestimation) walk across the city for two or more hours everyday to get to their places of work. About half of Nairobi’s population is estimated to live in slums with inadequate sanitary facilities and medical facilities, few schools and high insecurity. Projects to upgrade these slums have been discussed, and some are underway. I am not qualified to comment on the progress of these projects, but cannot help feeling that it will take a long time before their effectiveness is felt. Keeping this in mind, if one considers the effect of a disease such as AIDS on the national community then it becomes clear that the obstacles that lie ahead are even larger than what has been visualized.
There’s no room here to go into the impact that global slavery, imperialism, genocide, wars and the plunder of our environment have had on the development of our nations and cities. However, I want to emphasize the importance of keeping these factors in mind when we talk about development and urban planning. Our slums and cities have histories which are tied up with the factors that led to development and spread of diseases such as HIV-AIDS.
We need to examine the direct and indirect connections between impoverishment, our political set-ups, environmental degradation and disease. We have to examine the connections between the policies of global monetary bodies and the conditions of recipient nations or between the break-down of our ecological systems and the breakdown of our social systems and of our immune systems. Otherwise we will continue to propose solutions that only address one thread in a constantly evolving and growing tapestry.
First published in TakingITGlobal's Panorama Zine on 27th November, 2005.
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