Sometime back in December last year, I visited the Nairobi Central Business District. Walking down the streets of Nairobi was a unique experience for me as an exiled journalist from Ethiopia. You see, I am now like the Greek philosopher – Diogenes of Sinope – for I have no home.
My fate is to sleep or eat wherever I find vacant and safe. It looks like the fate of someone who yearns for a glimpse of freedom. Compared to Nairobi, my Addis Ababa is a failed blueprint.
The beautiful buildings, the clean road, the big malls, the green parks and swarms of cars demonstrate Nairobi’s great success. Nairobi is like a beautiful lady in a fashionable dress, while Addis is a midget in a towel.
But I am not a layman. I am a patriotic writer who loves his own country. At least I should hide my emotions. The mesmerising scenery shall not make me complain about my country. I know I am feeling a bit jealous but I manage to cool it by murmuring, “had we been in the hand of a colonial power for some time…”
Yes, this works for some time. But once again what I am looking at engulfs my emotion. Even though I struggle not to appreciate what is before my eyes, what I was to see next made me to curse myself, my government and a bit of my country.
The man with the megaphone
Harambee House is a building where His Excellency President Uhuru Kenyatta spends his days working. Unlike our Prime Minister’s office, this compound is guarded by a few men. You are not required to bow your head when you pass by.
In front of Harambee House, I find a young man with a megaphone yelling some words. Even though he is speaking Kiswahili, I can easily tell he is in vehement anger and rage. Suddenly I hear an English phrase between his Kiswahili that leaves me jaw-dropped. “You Mr President should resign from your place! You are doing nothing! Shame on you! Shame on you!’’ I can’t believe it. This young man is protesting his President, and no one is trying to stop him. Even the guards are chatting with each other as if there is nothing going on.
Can you imagine if this young man dared to say such words in front of the Ethiopian prime minister’s office? It is hard to guess what would have happened. Before he utters a single word, he will find himself on the ground blood-soaked. But in Kenya, I witnessed a young man who is asking his President to step down, and no one is stopping him from doing so. Any Kenyan passing by does not automatically assume that this person is mad. For them, he is one citizen who is practising his right of dissent, picket and protest. Had it been in Ethiopia, this man could be writing his own death warrant.
The chaotic Parliament
As I continued strolling around the city near Times Tower, a newspaper vendor asks me if I want the day’s paper. There is a pile of different newspapers at his feet and in his hand. I see the Daily Nation dated December 18, 2014. The headline grabs my attention: "Chaos in Parliament as MPs resume debate". A casual reading over some articles makes my mind whirl. It reads, “The MPs opposed to the Bill chanted and threw papers, disrupting the session…Disorder in Parliament as most members throng the floor of the House as debate on Security Bill goes on….Speaker orders Suba MP John Mbadi out of the House after water is sprinkled on Deputy Speaker Joyce Laboso and other clerks at the table… House moves to a committee of the whole House amid noise from opposition members.”
In my mind, a roaring Parliament is what I wish for my country Ethiopia. Unfortunately, what we have is a snoring Parliament. In my country, 99 per cent of Members of Parliament are from one party. Their main role is clapping whenever the legislative enacts a law or directive. They don’t care about the content or impact of the law on the people – like a sitcom audience they are paid to clap, have nap, and laugh.
Forget the physical confrontations (which are unnecessary). I ask myself, when is the last time Ethiopian Parliament had a heated debate? In Kenya, it looks like every law must be passed after some negotiations, and sometimes with a little scene of wrestling. The court is also independent so much so that it finally struck down eight clauses of the debated laws for being unconstitutional. In my country, the government is the court, the police, the prosecutor not forgetting the prison.
The oasis of free speech
Ethiopia has no independent newspaper or magazine after media houses were hounded and closed by the government, and many journalists forced to exile. The country is now engulfed in complete silence, which can’t be placated by the remaining pro-government papers, governmental radio stations, and the sole national television station of the country.
For Kenyans, it is not the same with more than 90 FM radios, 15 TV stations, swarm of newspapers and magazines. Most of them are private and free. Whenever you pick a newspaper, tune a radio or switch a TV, you will immediately appreciate how vast their freedom is.
The fact that I am in a country that can be considered as an oasis of free speech is an awesome experience. Ethiopia is two times bigger than Kenya but has forced more than 30 journalists to exile after labelling most of them ‘terrorists’. Yes! What I see in Nairobi is a blessing.
Civic space
Everybody seems in love with politics’. A taxi driver will tell you what should be done by the government. Besides serving you with a cup of coffee, you may find a waiter criticising the opposition leaders. Almost every tribe has songs based on politics. And unlike Ethiopians, no one looks scared when rebuking any ethnic group, and political party leaders will hug and shake hands after a heated debate. In my country, if the representative of the government hugs you after the debate, take it as ‘Judas kiss’ as you will likely be in trouble soon. Kenyans have TV shows that mock political figures, make fun of their President, MPs, opposition leaders and so on. Were you to try this in Ethiopia, the consequences would be dire..
Spending hours in Nairobi and thinking about Ethiopia will makes my stomach churn.
How far is Kenya from Ethiopia?
On my way home, a man next to me is able to identify me by nationality, thanks to my bony face and my sun-burned skin. As we chat and giggle, he asks me, “I wonder how far Kenya is from Ethiopia!” I look back at the beautiful city of Nairobi and I whisper, ‘too far…”
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Author: Habtamu seyoum
Email: (habhager@gmail.com)
*Author is an Ethiopia journalist exiled in Kenya
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