Listening to Daniel

Disclaimer: As all my blog posts do, this post reflects my limited perspective. I spent only a snapshot of time in Nairobi. While there, I visited a university, stayed at a lovely hotel, and toured around with my colleagues. I by no means profess to know a thing about Kenya or Kenyan politics.

The ride back to the Nairobi airport took about 45 minutes, but felt more like 20. Traffic was moving at a healthy clip, much smoother than the three-hour trek across Nairobi from Kenyatta University to my hotel yesterday. Daniel was driving and sparking some good conversation, and I was listening.

Daniel told me why my ride by the State House took hours yesterday. Kenneth Matiba had died, and Kenyans were out in droves to mourn him. Matiba was known for his struggle to create a multiparty democracy in Kenya. And the sitting president Uhuru Kenyatta is the result.

Daniel professed his love for Uhuru. Uhuru has a penchant for shaking his security detail, jogging through the streets of Nairobi, driving himself around against the wishes of the State, and drinking beer. He is known for being a real person, not a politician, and for his free spirit. Daniel didn’t mention any of his specific policies, but he did mention his respect for a president who had recently calmed political tensions in his country by offering his rival a seat as Deputy President in his administration. He offered a hand of peace in the name of unity.

As an American, it was hard to imagine.

I learned about the 42 tribes in Kenya from Daniel, himself a Kikuyu like Uhuru. But, he promised, he does not admire him for their tribal allegiances. He admires him for his candor, and willingness to listen, not to the rich and powerful, but to the everyday Kenyans. He smiled widely as he recalled stories of Uhuru, the son of the legendary President Jomo Kenyatta, who as a child used to sneak out from the home in his village in Central Kenya to play with the village children. Even then, he wasn’t the son of the great politician, he was Uhuru, a small boy just like all of the others.

Daniel’s stories confirmed what I learned the day before. As we moved by the Kenyan State House at a snail’s pace, where all sitting presidents are meant to reside, I was told a story about how Uhuru had opened part of the grounds to a girls’ school that didn’t have space to play sports outside. I was told another story about how a small child kicked a soccer ball over the wall of the State House and found his President standing there above him with the soccer ball in hand, smiling. I saw Uhuru’s “private residence,” where he sleeps, close to, but outside of the State House grounds.

In my 36 hours in Nairobi, I’ve done a lot of listening. And I’ve learned a small bit about Kenyans in Nairobi: They are open. They are intellectual. They love to talk politics. They are friendly and welcoming. They are patriotic.

I’ve learned a few things about the country too. Kenya has banned plastic bags. Its constitution has made addressing gender disparities paramount. One-third of jobs in every sector must go to women.

I imagine there are quite a few young men and women like Daniel: forward-thinking and smart, who are open to sharing and listening. I could see Barack Obama here, listening to Daniel. I also know, of course, that Kenya has a slew of problems, like all countries, especially in this region. But listening to Daniel, I felt hopeful.