The Mau Mau, Me and Muthii

Now, I don't want you to get the wrong impression when I tell you I invited a 63-year-old cab driver to catch a movie with me last night. I haven't resorted to "Looking for Mr. Goodbar," or anything desperate like that.

It's just that from the minute I climbed into the cab belonging to a man named Muthii (pronouced "Muh-THEE") a few weeks ago, I liked him. Never mind that less than five minutes into the drive, Muthii started extolling the virtuous nature of the Kikuyu tribe, and how other Kenyans were just "haters" because the Kikuyu were so resourceful, hard-working and God-fearing.

Since we were stuck in a traffic jam in a torrential rainstorm, my first instinct was to just sit there and mumble, "Hmm" every now and then while he unspooled example after example of why the Kikuyu were blessed and cursed at the same time. Finally, when it was clear we wouldn't be moving any time soon, my journalistic curiosity got the best of me. I asked Muthii if he really believed the Kikuyu were the only Kenyans who possessed those positive character traits.

I suppose that after the post-election violence earlier this year, that probably wasn't the safest thing I could have done. Especially since the whole time I've been here, people have suggested I look like I belong to the Luo tribe. Actually, I could pass for either a Luo or a Luhya, as long as I kept my mouth shut. Whichever, most folks here say I look like I was born, bred and buttered in Western Kenya.

Here's the salient point in this discussion....most of the violence occurred between the Luo and the Kikuyu tribes. The current Prime Minister, Raila Odinga, who's Luo, protested the election results that returned Kikuyu President Mwai Kibaki to office. Pent up Luo anger and perceived continuous disenfranchisement drove people into the streets and fields, and well, I don't have to tell you what happened next.

Anyway, as an American observer, it's been way too easy for me to scratch my head and write it all off to man's deeply-entrenched inhumanity to man. As I told Muthii that evening in the rainstorm, as an African American, I simply can't relate. I mean, we have our divisions based on social class and skin color, but there's never been any sworn blood vengeance between African Americans from Mississippi versus those from Georgia.....unless it was on a football field.

Muthii conceded several of my very polite observations, but the discussion always seemed to get back to Kikuyu virtue. By the time I finally got home, I didn't want to get out of the car. The conversation had been so fascinating, and Muthii was such a charming gent. He gave me his card, and I made a mental note to call him soon.

It took a couple of weeks, but when I did call him again, for a pick-up from the Sarit Centre Mall, he was speedy and graciously helped with all my parcels. This trip was shorter, but no less enjoyable. I think it's partly because of the formal, Brit-inflected English most Kenyans use,
and because Muthii has a slight speech impediment that makes him sound so delightful.

Anyway, during that brief trip, Muthii revealed he'd been orphaned at about age 8. His father was dragged away in the middle of the night, and never seen again. His mother was arrested and spent many years in a prison camp before she died. I didn't ask why...I guess I expected him to tell me eventually, if not during that trip, another time.

Well, I finally learned last what happened last night. I'd called Muthii for a ride to the Alliance Francaise building, which was hosting a Mau Mau film festival. I'm completely embarrassed that I knew less than zero about what the term "Mau Mau" really meant. The only real connotation it held for me was rebellion. I knew it was linked to African history, and I knew it struck terror into the heart of white colonialists, but beyond that, nada.

But I came across a listing for the film festival and decided it was a good way to start filling that knowledge gap. So after climbing into his cab, I told Muthii that I was headed to see a film about the Mau Mau uprising. He replied, "My father was Mau Mau. That is why they took him away."

I was beyond stunned. While I was still trying to gather my wits, Muthii asked if the film was free. I told him I didn't know, but that I would consider it a privilege to watch the movie with someone who had experienced that history first hand. He readily accepted my invitation, and thus began my first "date" in Nairobi.

I won't even try to fully capture what it was like watching the movie. Ironically, it was a documentary from the early 1960's, narrated by NBC legend Chet Huntley. It was a typical corny old newsreel, but it was just the tip of a huge iceberg of historical curiosity for me. I didn't realize the so-called "Mau Maus" were all Kikuyu, and that the future President of post-colonal Kenya, Jomo Kenyatta, was considered their leader. I had no idea that they considered themselves freedom fighters, attempting to win back land they claimed was stolen from them by the British. I had no idea of the extent of death, torture and destruction that ensued.

And I still have no idea what was going through Muthii's mind as he watched the flickering images. All I know is after the movie ended and he was driving me home, he said the documentary had only scratched the surface. It had left me reeling, so I'm wondering if I could even handle delving deeply into the history.

As Muthii drove off, I was once again reminded how little we know about the people we see around us every day. And today, as I walked down Kimathi Street--after learning last night that it is named after one of the leaders of the independence struggle, Dedan Kimathi--I made a silent commitment to learn as much as I can during this absolutely extraordinary experience in my life.

And I'm gonna keep on reaching out to people, and stop being so darned insular. That doesn't mean I'm gonna get friendly with every cab driver I meet. Miss Eloise didn't raise no fools, OR no 'hoes. But I can't help thinking it's time to turn the focus outward, to stop hesitating and really just relax and be myself. The kind of woman who can befriend the son of a Mau Mau rebel just as easily as she can make breezy chit chat with embassy officials. I mean, why hold back...what's NOT to like???