October 20, 2008
Asalaam aleikum! Peace be with you!
This is my final update letter to you from Kenya, as I will be returning to the U.S. on October 31. I am excited to be heading home soon, although sad to be leaving my friends and extended family here in Kenya. I can’t believe how fast a year has gone!
Of course, everyone here is anxiously awaiting the U.S. elections, and they forgive me for leaving when I explain that I am going home to vote. Kenyans are very excited and hopeful about Barack Obama’s campaign!
The past month has been really busy. I returned to Lamu – a small island on the northern coast of Kenya, near Somalia - for another month of fieldwork, and had an incredible experience there. I have been dividing my time between Taita and Lamu to compare women’s and girls’ education and women’s groups in different communities of Kenya’s Coast Province. About 90% of Lamu’s population is Muslim and semi-urban, with an economy largely oriented around fishing, boating, tourism and trade. It is an interesting place to compare and contrast with Taita, which is about 90% Christian, and mostly rural and agricultural.
I arrived in Lamu during the middle of Ramadhan, the holiest month of the Islamic year, and learned a great deal about fasting, prayer, charity, and other aspects of Muslim life. I also stayed through Eid-ul-Fitr and witnessed three days of celebrations. During Ramadhan, all Muslims practice fasting, as this is one of the five pillars of Islam. People eat a small amount at about 4:00 a.m. and then do not eat or drink again until the sun sets around 6:20 p.m. Fasting is a good way to show one’s devotion to God, to feel the pangs of hunger, to practice moderation and discipline, and to cleanse the body. One man told me that, like our cars need an oil change, our body also needs time to rest and clean itself out, to purge excess fats, sugars, toxins, parasites, etc.
Also, fasting is a good way to remind oneself of the pain of hunger and thirst so that we can understand the need to give alms, or charity, to the poor. During Ramadhan and Eid, it is expected that Muslims will give charity, known as “sadaka” or “zakah,” to poor people in their community. This is a good way to distribute wealth to the needy and to remind privileged people of their obligation to assist the poor.
When I arrived in Lamu in mid-September, I decided “when in Lamu, do as the Lamuans do” and I fasted for about two weeks, with no food or water from dawn to dusk. The dehydration was really difficult due to the heat and humidity! It was a good experience, though, and I felt really healthy and energized most of the time. At night I celebrated Iftar (breaking of the fast) with friends, and tasted a number of special delicacies such as a variety of fruit juices, vegetable and bean stews, bhajias (fried lentil balls), samosas (stuffed meat pies), mkate wa nazi (coconut bread), mandazi (donuts), chapattis (fried flatbread), wali wa nazi (coconut rice), tambi (spaghetti with raisins, coconut milk and sweet spices), ndovi (green bananas with shrimp and coconut milk), viazi vya nazi (potatoes with coconut milk), fish and seafoods, etc. The food was absolutely delicious and I spent a lot of time cooking with friends and learning some new recipes. I was lucky to meet Khifa Soud, the author of the Swahili Cuisines cookbook, and I got several copies of her book so that I can continue cooking these dishes at home!
In the spirit of “participant observation,” I also decided to wear the “buibui” and “hijab,” a long black robe and headscarf that is worn by Muslim women at the coast. Although it was hot to wear this over my other clothes, I grew to really enjoy wearing it as I felt more anonymous and less exposed as a White woman. I found that I was greeted with a great deal of respect and friendliness when I wore this, and was treated less as a tourist and more as an esteemed visitor and fellow believer. It is imperative for Muslim women to cover all but their hands and face when walking around in public, and it was much easier for me to meet with men and religious leaders, and to speak to students in schools. The local women also praised me for wearing the buibui and said that they appreciated that I showed respect for them and their culture. I learned that there is a great variety of styles and decorations of the buibuis, ranging from traditional Swahili designs to more modern fashions from Dubai and Saudi Arabia. I also had my hands and feet painted with henna and piko, with beautiful designs of flowers and vines. Many people exclaimed that I looked like “bibi harusi,” a bride!
At the end of Ramadhan, we all anxiously awaited the sighting of the crescent of the new moon. When the moon was sighted, the muezzins called from the mosques “Allahu Akbar!” (God is Great) and children marched through the streets chanting “Kesho ni Eid! Kesho ni Eid!” (Tomorrow is Eid!). That night, men stayed up late at the mosques reading the Qur’an, praying, singing, playing drums and flutes. Women prayed in their homes and got ready for Eid by cleaning their houses, baking cakes, and preparing gifts and new clothes for their children. It felt a lot like Christmas Eve.
On the first day of Eid, everyone had the day off and went around visiting each other in their homes and eating together. Children dressed up in their new clothes and went all around town for “mkono wa Eid” (the hand of Eid), which is kind of like trick-or-treating. They went from house to house and were given coins or sweets by their neighbors, relatives, shopkeepers, and others. They would usually spend the money on toys or candy or pretty jewelry, hair barrettes or handbags.
Then the children all went to the fete, which is like a county fair held at the Lamu Boys School for the three days of Eid. For ten shillings (15 cents) they could ride camels around the school grounds, or take a ride on a carousel or ferris wheel or the scrambler. These are like the fair rides we have in the states, only they are mechanical and pushed by hand, and seem awfully precarious! There was also an area where a DJ was playing “Bongo” music (Swahili hip hop), and boys and girls could dance in separate rooms (they are not allowed to dance with each other, but they were all checking each other out anyway!). The fete is the favorite Eid event among children in Lamu, but the community elders feel that it is an inappropriate venue for boys and girls to mix among each other. Luckily, it was held for the first time after many years, and the young people had a blast!
I also celebrated my birthday in Lamu with a day at the beach, where I enjoyed swimming and floating in the ocean at my favorite spot on a 12-km white sand beach. I felt such complete peace and surrender while floating in the salty water, and meditated on my gratitude for being carried through this life by the ocean and the earth and the kindness of strangers. That evening my friends cooked a delicious dinner of grilled lobster, crab and fish with coconut rice and vegetable curry. We ate and had a bonfire at Coconut Beach on the edge of town with a diverse group of friends from Kenya, the U.S., Norway (via Pakistan and Kashmir), France, and Germany (via Brazil). It was like a United Nations meeting on the beach! It started to rain lightly while we were eating and my Norwegian friends said that it was a curse, while the Kenyans insisted that the rain signified blessings and good luck!
Throughout the month, I met hundreds of people, and made a lot of new friends. I interviewed a number of women’s groups, youth groups, community leaders, educators, development workers, health experts, and religious leaders. I visited three schools and gave presentations to students about the importance of girl child education. I interviewed principals, teachers, and religious leaders at Mkomani Girls’ Primary School, Lamu Girls’ Secondary School, and Swafaa Academy (a Shia Muslim private school which integrates Islamic and secular curricula). I also attended the annual prize-giving ceremony at Lamu Girls Secondary School. I am working to establish a pen pals connection between these Lamu schools and the Indianapolis Public Schools via a friend who works there.
In my research, I learned a great deal about the Islamic educational system and the conflicts between Islamic and secular education. I learned that Islamic education is a very old system in East Africa, and that all children attend madarasa schools from a very early age to learn to read and write in Arabic, to read the Qur’an and Hadith, and to learn the stories of the prophets and the five pillars of Islam. I learned that the government schools are referred to as “skuli za Kizungu” (English schools) and that they were initially resisted by people in Lamu as they were associated with missionaries and the British colonial government. Some elders insisted that their children should not attend these schools since they feared they would be converted to Judaism or Christianity. Today, however, many parents are embracing both Islamic and secular education for the benefits associated with each system. Most people in Lamu use at least three or four languages – Kiswahili, Arabic, English and local languages – so it is important for them to have a well-rounded education in all of these languages.
I also interviewed Islamic educators who discussed the need to integrate Islamic and secular educational systems, and who revealed that education is compulsory for all devoted Muslims. In fact, the first commandment that Allah gave to Mohammed was “Iqra” – which means “Read!” It is said that all Muslims should study throughout their lives, and should seek as much knowledge as possible, even if they have to travel all the way to China. I also learned that the Qur’an does not discriminate between boys and girls in terms of educational opportunities, although it does insist that boys and girls should learn in separate classes or schools. All Muslims are obligated to study and learn, regardless of gender or race or class.
However, the pre-Islamic “mila na desturi” (customs and traditions) of the coastal cultures of Kenya have prevailed and prevented girls and women from having equal opportunities for formal education. Throughout the Coast Province and Northeastern Province, which have the largest populations of Muslims in Kenya, there are high rates of illiteracy among adult women. Girl children were disadvantaged in the past due to negative attitudes about educating girls, fears of sending girls to mixed schools where they would mingle with boys, and beliefs that girls should just get married and become mothers. Many girls were expected to marry when they started puberty, and few girls would continue their education past the 6th or 7th grade. Education was also very expensive and necessary only for formal workers, so mostly it was reserved for boys. The divisions of social class, religion, race and ethnicity have further separated the communities and led to conflict and inequality in access to education.
Today in Lamu, most parents struggle hard to send all of their children to school to ensure their ability to support themselves and their families. Economic changes have necessitated that both men and women should work outside the home, as it is difficult for families to survive on one income. Also, the high rates of divorce and widowhood have showed women that they need to become independent in order to support their children. One 6th grade student told me that women must become independent in case their husbands leave them, and that they must work hard to educate and feed their children. Other girls told me that “elimu ni mwangaza” (education is light) and that they wanted to excel in school so that they can work in a number of professions and to lead their country.
Many people in Lamu told me that girls are actually performing very well in schools these days, and are even outperforming the boys in terms of their good discipline and behavior and their scores on achievement tests. They insist that girls have many advantages over boys in academics, as the community has been very focused on protecting girls and providing scholarships and support for girls’ schools. Girls are socialized to be obedient and modest, to go to school and to go home. They are not permitted to roam around the town, so they are more focused about their schoolwork. On the other hand, boys are given a lot of freedom, and they spend a lot of time playing football (soccer), fishing, swimming, riding donkeys and boats, using drugs and skipping school. Therefore, many people in Lamu are now discussing the need to support “boy child education” and want to assist boys who are now seen as being at-risk and disadvantaged.
Nevertheless, because of the lack of access to education in the past, many adult women in Lamu are illiterate and lack the skills necessary for formal employment. As I have witnessed throughout Taita and other Kenyan communities, women in Lamu have also organized themselves into small women’s groups for informal and peer education. The groups help women to pool their resources, start small businesses, and to educate themselves in a variety of life skills. Kikozi is an impressive organization that has organized a savings and credit cooperative of over 500 members on the islands and mainland villages throughout Lamu district. They have assisted hundreds of women to start small businesses and to buy household items. They have also raised money to renovate a number of schools and to send 12 local girls to university. Another women’s group is called Anaswiha, a group of Muslim women in Lamu who gather to advise each other, to teach each other skills such as cooking and sewing, and to discuss personal issues, relationships and safe sex. They also raise funds together to buy household items and to assist members in times of need. The Khairat Women’s Group has organized an orphanage in one of the slums on the edge of Lamu town, where they educate and care for children whose parents have died of HIV/AIDS. Finally, the Sauti ya Wanawake (Voice of Women) group is organizing activities to raise awareness during “pink month” about cancer prevention, and is creating space for women to speak out about HIV/AIDS, drug abuse, female genital mutilation, domestic violence, land grabbing, environmental problems, and other issues facing the Lamu community.
One of the most impressive examples of popular and informal education that I witnessed in Lamu is the APHIA II project, which is supported with funds from the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID). This project is a community education program for HIV/AIDS prevention and awareness that is cooperatively organized by 15 women’s groups, 6 men’s groups, and 11 youth groups. Peer educators have been trained from all of these groups to conduct workshops and to perform community-based theater in villages, towns, and mosques throughout Lamu district. I attended one of the workshops that was organized by women, for women. The presenters included a local poet and singer, a group of young girls singing and performing a play about HIV/AIDS, a local imam (religious leader), a number of women activists and educators, a hospital nurse, the head of the community AIDS control council, and others. The workshop was held on the edge of town on a holiday, and attracted over 100 girls and women to come and listen to the presentations. At the end of the workshop, there was an opportunity for people to get tested at a VCT (voluntary counseling and testing) center. I was very impressed with the level of organization and the quality of facilitation of the discussions at this event. This is a powerful example of popular peer education to teach about an important and life-saving issue that is too often shrouded in secrecy, silence and shame.
So, that is a snapshot of my research and experiences in Lamu over the past month. If you want to know more, you can read my dissertation!
I am looking forward to seeing some of you when I return home to Ohio at the end of this month, and hope to continue communicating with the rest of you by email. Take care of yourselves and keep in touch.
In Peace and Justice,
Cat Cutcher
