Black, White or Stripped: Does it Matter?

Sometimes it doesn’t hurt quite much to be the subject of ridicule, especially for things in your life that you cannot help – I mean things that are divinely designed like morphological make up, whether tall or short, racial orientation or colour pigmentation – whether coloured, white, black or stripped. Until yesterday, I had never considered myself to have heavily experienced any case of direct attack on my race. You know that it is said, “what you don’t know does not hurt you.” To be precise, I have been discriminated before based on the fact of being black, but really such episodes of have been discreet and indirect and they really never mattered much. That is the same reason why even this direct one will not matter. In fact I have also been discriminated against for being a Luo, short (rather vertically challenged as my friend Alex Kiamba would nicely put it) or even not being wealthy like the rest (sometimes).

Yesterday was a very beautiful day – the sun was quite hot as has been in the recent days – though we did not go swimming, we still had an outdoor activity in the name of a bonfire. We all enjoyed the day with the juveniles and ate a sumptuous meal of hobo stew even though mine was unnecessarily over seasoned, so much that I had to punctuate every mouthful with a sip of water. I took video clips of different scenes as I interviewed the kids – both in groups and as individuals. Most notable was this band of attention seeks that I christened “the Chairman’s gang.” The chairman is a twelve year old eight grade boy. From now henceforth I will call him Obugji, since he is the subject of this post.

No doubt, Obugji is a charismatic leader. His band of followers is so loyal to him that they would do anything to pay attention even when they are so broke to afford it. Well, I happened to have a conversation with the lads which went very well apart from their unnecessary reference to homosexual relationships. I have since confirmed that their Home State, Iowa, recently legalized same sex marriage and this has become a sensationalized issue there – thanks to the media. For this reason, I absolve the quartet of their seemingly unbecoming foul speech – especially after confirming with other campers that this behaviour was inconsistent with his character. I therefore concluded that it was just another case of teenage attention seeking catalyzed by peer as well as terrible media influence.

All this time, it was unbeknown to me that Obugji would make it to my website. I mean, there are very many important issues to write about – so how would a mere juvenile steal my attention at no fee whatsoever – well  turns out that it was dearly paid for as I will explain later. Anyway, I took an early evening nap since I intended to stay up late that night doing this and that – including beating Jeremy in a game of scrabble (which I did, and I am not saying it). Well, I didn’t sleep long, as Obugji was brought to my bedside and asked to apologize for his racial hate speech. Apparently, the poor boy was reportedly singing the song “Run Nigger” and being the only black there it must have been meant for me – or at least I was a representative of the offended. The boy did not only apologize but also sneaked back after the whole formal episode and pleaded for forgiveness saying that there was no offense intended.

I told home to go in peace. In fact I did not forgive him for I did not think there was anything to forgive even though my colleagues think that was a direct attack on my race. Let me just say that I was not the least offended and will never be offended by any racial slurs. In fact, singing “run nigger” even if directed to me is nothing compared to the questions “when/where did you learn English” – the kind asked even by kids I teach and their parents. Of course my answer has never been kind either – for it is my insistence that I speak English as handed over to us by our colonial masters the British and that there was no English In the US but “American” which obviously I cared less about learning. In other words – It is more discriminative to think that I could not learn English while in Africa – even though we share the same colonial master and adopted English as a result of the British conquest. So why would I not learn from them if they be best?

I have since forgiven such people since such speech is based mainly on ignorance and a little more misrepresentation of facts. The fact that they don’t know the truth does not make their perception the truth. In other words, I am not the kind to let people’s opinion about me become my reality – No! Never! In fact the “Run Nigger” boys’ pronouncement is a more informed statement than the “where did you learn English” statement. The former is a statement of fact – for what is Nigger? Nigger is a derivative of the Spanish word “Negro” which means black, and black is indeed what I am. So calling me a Nigger is not racial to me even though it is a politically incorrect statement in the US. My point is that I don’t need protection from being or feeling black. It is a case of the saying “Lord protect me from my friends for I know my enemies.” I will illustrate this using a short story.

Sometime in the year 2000 before I joined campus for my undergraduate studies I kept company with some boys from my village. None of us had been to the University then, apart from our lawyer, Omondi Obudho who was in the school of Law in Parklands and Robin (known as Umeme because he was the tallest in the region) who was on suspension from Moi University. Oh yes, and Dave Abudho who was at Egerton University. My bad, Okwato was also on suspension from Moi University. We were generally known as Jokochieng (even though I am Jakomburah) and we spent most evenings chatting, politicking and philosophizing together. Those were great days when we would have the likes of Ken Ayieko (RIP), Dan Awuonda (RIP), Jerry, Japuonj, Omosh (Nyathi Nyakach), Omondi Ondaso, Gen. Oguok and sometimes Asembo and Dhar etc. General this was the boys’ gang that ruled Rabuor Shopping Centre.

One mutual friend of this group was particularly reported to be offended that Omondi Obudho was keeping company with the “not-university educated” gang. He too was a third yea BCom student at Egerton University. When this was reported to us, the whole team felt that it was in fact an offence to the team. We sought to discipline him, claiming that oba wach, that is to say he had insulted the group, even though it was true that we were not university educated yet! While planning the attack, our legal consultant, Omondi Obudho provided wisdom that revolutionized the thinking of this writer. Omondi questioned the wisdom of acting on hearsay. He argued that as a lawyer, he would not defend the case in a court of law, as no case would be proven against this gentleman there being no provision in law for such trivialities. He further argued that a person who was verbally assaulted has a better case to prove than one who is informed by a second party that a gun was pointed at his back by so-and-so. Thus Omondi argued that if the “gentleman” was man enough and genuinely concerned, he would do himself a service by directly confronting us in the face rather than be reported to have spoken about us. Thus the case was closed with the whole team boisterously arguing that we don’t fight cowards. Today psychology informs me that in fact our defensiveness was a more cowardly action that the gossiper’s. It was a case of personal insecurity and acceptance and that coalescing around the group was just a myopic therapeutic intervention. It was just like the temporary relief of the opiate which pretends to deal with our pains just for a little while only to re-emerge in greater doses and greater consequences.

In fact when I look back, this gentleman was right, if he had ever spoken so – in saying that we had no University education. He also had the right to think (albeit flawed) that a University-educated Omondi was wasting his time with the not – so – educated lot. Whether that was right thinking is subjected to his flawed philosophy and I have no time arguing with a fool. But to say the least, that alleged “stupid” remark awoke me and brought me to my sense. It was true that I would remain classified as uneducated for as long as I was not, and if it hurt very bad then I had to do something about it. Beating the messenger of conscience was not the solution. Changing the situation was the solution – and I pursued the latter. Now, if I could master some arrogance, I would call the former “educated friend” an undergraduate for I have passed his level even though he started ahead of me. But that would serve no purpose because like Plato would aptly put it “Knowledge becomes evil if the aim be not virtuous…” and Knowledge which is acquired under compulsion has no hold on the mind.” It would be tyrannical to think that a University education be it a PhD or a mere certificate is an end in itself.

The two stories I have told in this piece are illustrations on truth and perception. In the first story, I feel inordinately compelled to believe that being black is backward – or why else would I accept apologies for being called black, just in another language? The only problem is that I don’t know why being black, the song asks me to run. “Run Nigger” is the title of the Song. I have done nothing wrong in being black so why run and where to? I think the political-correctness in the anti-nigger pronouncement is actually racist. But if that is, then it is more racist to think this nigger inferior – no matter what name you call him – African brethren etc. Questions that despise intelligence like are much more demeaning than the direct expression of the obvious “you are black.” For such question assume inherent incapacity to comprehend language and skill that is either Western or American. That, to me, brothers, is racist than anything else.

In the second story, I was truly accused of not being university educated. So why did I have to fight that truth? If I didn’t like it, I would change it. However, with that and pursuing it further to the highest level possible, how should I view the rest? Not with contempt whatsoever! But with love, kindness and gratitude serve the people as I thank God for the opportunity for preparation for the service and humbly allow myself to be a servant of the people for my life remains meaningless if it does not change the lives of other people for the better.

Maybe what I need to tell my friends is that calling me black does not discriminate me, rather protecting me from being black does. I don’t care the intensity of my complexion or colour pigmentation. Besides, human nature is very complex. I have suffered more discrimination for being a Luo in my own country than being black in a foreign land. Yet being Luo is something I can never change, and will never desire to change. It is one of the things am proudest of apart from Christ in me. An old primary school friend, Fred Othola said I could not play soccer with them because I was brought up in Midika (a small lowly estate in Muhoroni) even though my dad had moved to staff where they also lived. He forgot that he was also brought up in Bao Quarters) as the name suggest – wooden structures) or was it Usalama (the one near the Company Dispensary)?

Some are discriminated against because of the school they went to…  sorry the school they never went to. The closer home you get the more discriminate it will get and the intensity of the discriminate feeling are only directly proportional to the frailty of your will. Even in Luoland we have Jokano (which I am), Jonyakach, Josiaya, Joloka etc. Even in Kano, we still have Jokabonyo, Jokombura, Jokakola and Kokolwa. Yet still in Kombura we still fight against each other in terms of Jokochieng, Jokadhiambo, Jokahongo and Jokamigele. Still, among Jokamigele, we still insist on being jokobudho and within Kobudho, we are distinctly Jokadongo and Jokadongo still see themselves as Jokasune, Jokakidha and jokobondo. In Kakidha, I am tempted to think highly of my father’s mom, Nyamolo than his step-mom Margaret. This continues, even within the household of my father, Omer where I might selfishly elevate myself above my brother Maxwell. It is only against the bondage of the will that we choose otherwise.

This then is the conclusion of the matter. Man will always be man. He will always naturally seek to demean others in every way possible, if only to redeem him of personal feelings of inadequacies. Now that to me is the apex of cowardice: whether racist, tribal, clanist or whatever level or name you call it. This attitude of comparing ourselves with others and trying to beat them in a game of our own mental invention in which we own the field, the ball, the goalposts, the whistle, the referees and the scoreboard is what I also called backwardness. Such games neither make it to my league nor do they disequilibrate my tranquility. The logic is, if he can’t face you; ignore him as long as he doesn’t falsely accuse you in a court of law. This principle also applies to gossip for why fight a coward? Why invest my emotions on an idiot, unless of course I am one and play in the same league.