The youth are leaders of tomorrow Leo ni leo! Asemaye kesho ni mwongo!
(Today is the day! Whoever says tomorrow is a liar!)
Popular Swahili saying
Introduction
The opening quotation is a cliché that is characteristic of speeches of Kenyan leaders with regard to the nation’s youth. This is especially so in politics where, until recently, youthfulness was considered a nega- tive attribute for aspiring leaders. Kenya has an established trend that requires one to make a name elsewhere before plunging into politics.
A flood of resignations from the civil service and corporate world in the final few months before the poll marks the five-year election cycle in Kenya. Retirees, usually male, seek to crown their careers of several decades by successfully contesting parliamentary seats in gen- eral elections. For most of the first four decades of the post-colonial period,1one could be forgiven for assuming that for youth the present functions purely as a transitory period to a future in which they can actually begin to participate in society. Thus, the challenge of under- standing Kenyan youth as active participants in society, especially as significant players in politics, is one that has been largely ignored or superficially treated in reflections on Kenya.
Youth have tended to feature in political analyses as societal burdens of some kind, who have to be carefully ‘handled’. There has been little change in attitude since cabinet minister Tom Mboya qualified the statement ‘[y]outh are … important to the nation’ with the observation,
‘[t]heir energies must be channelled to useful and productive purposes’
(Mboya 1986: 54). Forty years after independence, the government admits: ‘The youth have remained on the periphery of the country’s affairs and their needs and aspirations have not been accorded due recognition. They have been excluded from designing, planning and implementing programmes and policies that affect them and the coun- try at large’ (NYPSC 2003: 25). This situation is, however, beginning to change. The period 1990–2005has brought to the fore an aggres- sive youth discourse that has rejected prevailing perceptions of youth and demanded a reconfiguring of the social roles and responsibilities of this category. This chapter traces the evolution of this discourse, locat- ing its genesis in indigenous political cultures that have continued to evolve in the creation of an endogenous understanding of democracy in Kenya.
Two terms, democracy and youth, are central to this discussion and are therefore worth exploring further at this stage. The chapter prioritises Kenyan understandings of these terms as manifested in everyday discourse in the public sphere. We recognise that their use within the present Kenyan society has been influenced by both a socio-cultural history encapsulating different perspectives and influ- ences and an ongoing experience of lived reality shaped by the local and global contexts of related discourses. The majority of studies on either democracy or youth within the Kenyan context tend to priv- ilege definitions occurring within academic and global discourses on these issues, most of which focus on anarchy, chaos, violence and war (see Kagwanja 2006). We will concentrate on the local, especially taking into consideration endogenous cultural influences (see Hountondji 1997).
A Cultural Foundation
The concept of democracy and the generational principle As elaborated in Chapter 1, democracy is a difficult term to authori- tatively define. Kenyans tend to use the term to refer to the ideal of universal enfranchisement, placing emphasis on the political, social and economic realms. Democracy is seen as something to aspire to, rather than something that is practically and realistically attainable. It seems more useful therefore if one is dealing with lived experience
to discuss democracy as a verb rather than a noun, as a process of transition occurring over time. This discussion of Kenyan youth, there- fore, focuses on democratic transition and is undergirded by several assumptions.2
First, the present ‘era of democratic transition’ is merely one among a series of many other developments. The phrase ‘an era of democratic transition’ is used herein to refer to any peak period of political activ- ity climaxing in major democratic gains. The discussion of successive eras takes into consideration the interregnums, where the focus is on the incubation and consolidation of the principles undergirding the changes in the status quo. The foundational period preceding the intensity of actual transition is a time of motivation and preparation in which a critical examination of the status quo leads to a demand for an alternative. The aftermath often seems rather flat in comparison to the intensity of the peak period of activity, but it is a necessary time of rest, reflection and consolidation, which gradually gives way to another cycle. It is often difficult to determine precisely when any of these three stages begins or ends, since they tend to flow into each other. The process of transition is determined by the move- ment of a critical mass of people into and through each particular stage. Nasong’o’s discussion of the three stages of social movements (in Chapter 2) is relevant here, although his emphasis is on the leader- ship of these movements. Caution should also be exercised here since these cycles do not always constitute progress in the move towards democratisation. Rok Ajulu (2001) has shown how the democra- tisation process in Kenya takes one step forward and three steps backwards.
Secondly, while attention these days is often paid to elections as a marker of ‘true’ democracy, other issues, such as the right and ability to participate in decision-making forums in other ways beyond voting, must also be taken into account.3The phrase ‘democratic transition’
has generally referred to the process of enabling the interests of all Kenyans to be fairly represented in the governance of the nation.
However, representation is only the beginning. Beyond it are issues of participation, which are at the heart of an internal drive for inclusion in social movements agitating for democratic transition. Third, and finally, different ideas of democracy and experiences of democratic transition have existed in the Kenyan past, all of which continue to influence and contribute to the present understandings of the challenge of democratic transition. There is a tendency to view democracy as a
new thing, a Western political tradition revolutionising the African way of life. Indigenous political systems are still sometimes portrayed as being limited to two extremes: either authoritarian systems of gover- nance revolving around absolute monarchs, or undeveloped networks of loose alliances in constant danger of lapsing into anarchy. Such generalised descriptions are inaccurate in casting indigenous political systems as primitive frameworks with little relationship to contem- porary ideals entailing democratic principles of governance. These political systems are, in contrast, foundational to the lived experience of Kenyans today and, as Simiyu (1987) ably demonstrates, the basis of home-grown democracy.
While present understandings of democracy have been influenced by new ideas coming from elsewhere, they have been equally shaped by indigenous practices existing before the colonial period. Focusing particularly on the legacy of the latter, we argue the importance of taking into account indigenous influences in the present discourses of democracy. As Kenyatta (1978) argues, many indigenous political systems, particularly those of decentralised states, were organised around prin- ciples of democratic governance. In his discussion of the political cele- bration itwkka, Kenyatta emphasises its beginnings as a revolutionary replacement of despotic dictatorship with ‘a new order where every section of the community would have a practical part to play in the people’s government’ (Kenyatta 1978: 198). Fundamental to the ‘spirit ofitwkka’ was what would later be recognised as the manifested guar- antor of democracy in Kenya – the ‘changing of government in rota- tion through a peaceful constitutional revolution’ (Kenyatta 1978: 196).
Itwkkacould therefore be described as a celebration of the concept of democracy that was instrumental in enabling the regular inaugu- ration of a new generation of political leadership in the Gkkuyu community.4 Kenyatta traces the root of the word ‘itwkka’ to ‘twkka’
which means ‘to break away from’. The first itwkkawas a revolution culminating in the installation of a new government after the nation
‘broke away’ from autocracy to institute a system of democracy (Kenyatta 1978: 187). Following this revolution, successive genera- tions took over the responsibilities of political leadership, being inau- gurated at each new itwkkaceremony which occurred regularly every quarter century or so. Each new generation took over the leadership of the nation after enacting a constitution that served as a covenant with the rest of the society. Although only a select number of individuals, generally males of a particular generation and social status, were
members of the council working out the details of the constitution, they were expected to take care of the interests of the entire com- munity fairly. Only after the transitional ceremony was completed could the governance of the nation pass on to devolved levels of government. The devolution of power transferred authority over specific sections of the community to a series of governing councils.
Youth were represented at the senior levels of government by the njama ya ita (the council of war) whose members were expected to ensure that the interests of young people were taken into considera- tion in deliberations.
Two main reasons underlie the use of itwkka, as described by Kenyatta (1978), as an example of the performance of pre-colonial forms of democratic governance. First, many Kenyans, no matter their ethnicity or race, have some understanding of this particular political tradition.5 Secondly, it provides an example of enduring principles that make manifest political traditions as the past recurring with appropriate revision in the present; what Drewal (1991) calls ‘repetition with a significant difference’.6One such principle of political tradition as a ‘changing same’ is that of generational politics, common to many indigenous communities preferring decentralised systems of govern- ment. Generational groupings make it possible to organise society on the basis of social responsibilities and rights. Each generation, in itself made up of several age groups, passes through four phases: childhood, youth, adulthood and elderhood. In childhood, a generation has neg- ligible influence on policy making, while in youth it is prepared for the responsibilities of leadership through the supervised performance of selected duties. In adulthood, it assumes the leadership of the nation through the performance of delegated authority, finally taking on in elderhood the ultimate socio-political authority, overseeing the smooth running of the nation. Comparatively few individuals ever attain the ultimate levels of elderhood and socio-political authority. Those who do, even when they appear to exercise such authority only sparingly, hold a moral legitimacy beyond any military or other might. It is expected that those who live long enough to do so will have learned to balance the accruing rights of such power with a sense of responsi- bility to the nation.
By mandating a regular transfer of power from one generation to another at appropriate intervals, nations that used this political system made it difficult for socially irresponsible individuals or groups of people to accumulate too much power or entrench themselves in
positions of political power. Generally, generations were offered the incentive of different and socially superior levels of authority and respon- sibility to motivate them to cede power when the time came to move on.
They also had to ensure that they had adequately mentored those who replaced them, since the latter were the ones they had to work most closely with. Religious and moral authority was considered superior to political leadership; thus those in political positions had to be care- ful to both respect those holding such authority and perform ably so as to ensure their own graduation to religious and moral authority at the appropriate time. Another important feature of this kind of politics was the elevation of the group above the individual. This distributed the responsibilities of governance amongst all those being entrusted with leadership, who were collectively accountable to and for the nation during the tenure of the term they were granted. Individuals could certainly attain positions of ‘first among equals’ in formulating, articulating, influencing or enforcing policy; they were, however, still expected to conform to an agreed vision.
This generational principle continues to be an important aspect of Kenya’s post-colonial period. As shall be demonstrated below, it has influenced the role of youth in contemporary Kenyan politics. It is manifest today in the three generations that have been most politi- cally active in the post-colonial era. These are the Lancaster House Generation, the Lost Generation and the Uhuru Generation. Herein, age remains secondary as a factor in the determination of generational affiliation. Of more significance is the manifest commitment of an individual to the historical mission of a particular generation. Fanon (1963: 169) argues the importance of the identification of a specific historical mission for different generations within the post-colonial context. There has to be significant and practical commitment to a spe- cific vision before it is possible to articulate a historical mission for any generation. As has been observed above, while certain individuals can be instrumental in proposing, articulating and leading each peer group in carrying out the agenda that successfully fulfils the generation’s historical mission, it is however the commitment of a critical mass of people to that agenda that determines its success as a generational mission.
The first three decades of Kenyan post-colonial politics were dom- inated by the generation just emerging on to the political scene in the decade leading up to independence. While Jomo Kenyatta might have been the face of Kenyan independence, he represented an older
generation of politicians generally associated with the colonial period who found themselves supplanted by a new generation of political leadership in the decade immediately preceding independence. It was this latter group – those most associated with the deliberations of the Lancaster House conference, thereby earning themselves the identity of the Lancaster House Generation (LHG) – that took on the ultimate responsibility of the consolidation and definition of the newly inde- pendent state. The historical mission that the LHG is associated with is the consolidation of the gains of independence as negotiated at the Lancaster House constitutional conferences.7
The crown heirs to the LHG have been dubbed ‘the Lost Generation’
(LG). To some, the adjective ‘lost’ is an apt description of a generation defined by the loss of the original vision of ‘uhuru’, which Oginga Odinga memorably articulated as full political, economic and cultural independence beyond the limited political achievements of legal independence (Oruka 1992: 50; Odinga 1966). To others, it connotes the lost opportunities – all that this generation has been prevented from achieving by the greediness of those in the LHG who have effec- tively maintained their grip on power through most of the first four decades of Kenyan independence. To yet others, it represents the inability of this generation to find or concentrate on its own historical mission. The generation is portrayed as ‘lost’ since it has focused its energies on completing the historical mission that ought to have been completed by the LHG.
The Uhuru Generation (UG) has only emerged as a distinct entity within Kenyan society in the last few years of the multiparty era, and is therefore yet to make an impact on the nation. It would seem, however, that the UG is anxious to avoid the fate suffered by its predecessor. Rather than wait for definition by default, there has been a concerted effort by its members to identify, articulate and map out a definite mission encompassing a broad-based agenda that compe- tently responds to the present historical context. In contrast to the LG whose members were old enough at the time of independence to have experiential understanding of the colonial period, the UG has no personal engagement with colonialism and interprets itself through the lens of its post-colonial reality. Both the LG and UG are focused on the vision of an ideal: uhuru. Their historical missions are, how- ever, different: whereas the LG is fixated on the recovery of the lost promises of uhuru, the UG looks forward to implementing its unrealised potential.
The idea of youth
Youth is a concept whose use is heavily dependent on context.
Many people understand this term in relation to age, which is gen- erally accepted as the most important characteristic in formal delin- eation of this category (see Barkan 2003, 2004). The confusion that the emphasis on age creates in discourses of youth in Kenya is evident in the discrepancies in statistical information testifying to the inability of those with vested interest in youth issues to set universally acceptable age boundaries. Estimates of the number of Kenyan youth, depending on the age boundaries under consideration, range from as high as 50per cent of the Kenyan population to somewhere around the 25per cent mark. Some consider 13-year-olds as ‘youth’, especially when all those who should be in secondary school or have graduated through rites of initiation from childhood are included in this constituency.
Others base their classification on purely pragmatic grounds. Youth Agenda, for example, a leading NGO focusing on making ‘youth issues part of the national agenda’, considers all those falling between 15and 40years of age as youth.8
The Kenyan government is also caught up in the challenges of working with age, with differing definitions setting up the potential for conflict in the formulation of youth-specific initiatives. Several government ministries and departments, especially those offering social services such as health and education, have had long-standing youth- specific initiatives. These however are yet to be harmonised. They offer differing definitions, perspectives and understandings of youth and youth issues, reflecting the confusion that attends to state pro- grammes to define, guide, and control youth. This is evident in defi- nitions of this category articulated in the drafts of two important documents slated to become foundational to policy formulation. One of these is the draft of the National Youth Policy, as prepared by the National Youth Policy Steering Committee (NYPSC 2003). Its defi- nition, which ‘takes into account the physical, psychological, cultural, social, biological and political definitions of the term’, describes a Kenyan youth simply as ‘one aged between fifteen and thirty’ (NYPSC 2003: 24).9 This is in contrast to the definition included in the Kenyan draft constitution adopted at the final session of the National Constitution of Kenya Review Commission (CKRC) conference in March 2004(CKRC 2004). According to Chapter 20article 307(30) of that document, youth means the collectivity of all individuals in the
republic each of whom: (1) has attained the age of 18years and (2) has not attained the age of 35years. It is noteworthy that these definitions were arrived at within the same period with the input of a fairly homogeneous set of stakeholders.
The NYPSC recognition of diverse definitions, especially those emphasising cultural and political understandings, is useful in delin- eating the role of youth within the political realm. But their com- mendable intentions are not implemented in this definition in which the social, cultural and even psychological dimensions of the term
‘youth’ have been largely ignored in favour of biological and physical dimensions. As elsewhere, this leads to the danger of the term ‘youth’
being unwittingly conflated with terms such as ‘adolescent’ or ‘teenager’.
Ultimately this could result in the misrepresentation of the lived expe- rience of this social category. As adolescents, youth are often consi- dered as being too immature to have anything significant to contribute to present discourses of national importance. On this basis, they are therefore marginalised in significant decision-making forums. This is precisely the misperception that youth organisations sought to correct in multiple representations to the CKRC. Their effort led to the inclusion in the draft constitution’s bill of rights the provision of ade- quate opportunities for youth in the social, political, economic and other spheres of national life, including the right of participation in governance. It is important then to seek out alternative ways of con- ceptualising youth that displace the emphasis on physical immaturity, making it possible for those in this social category to be recognised as partners in, and active contributors to, national development.
The term ‘youth’ in this chapter is used to denote the transitional stage of life between childhood and adulthood characterised by the transfer of societal responsibilities affirming the change of status from the former to the latter. Youth in this sense bears only incidental relationship to age. Hence the use of such terms as ‘Young Turks’ and
‘party youth wingers’ in reference to people over 50years of age need not raise any eyebrows. The term denotes a social category charac- terised by pressure to demonstrate allegiance to legitimate authority and to perform capably in service to the wider society. We therefore distinguish between ‘young people’ – which we use to specifically emphasise age – and ‘youth’ defined as a social category. We do recog- nise, however, that these terms are often conflated in public discourse.
Note that this term is often used in the socio-cultural realm to refer not only to individuals but also to generations. It is generally recognised