Ways in which Kenyans encourage ethnic prejudices without Realising

The just concluded general election in Kenya has left a very distraught and divided nation. This is in spite of the facade we portray to the international community of a civilised and educated community. There were reports of violence and killings as well as a very divisive question of whether the election was free, fare and credible. The feelings for those who bore the brunt of the violence and brutality dependent on one's political (read ethnic) identity. The same with question about the integrity of the poll itself. Conversations on social media platforms were fraught with divided opinion on even some of the basic things humans could agree on. This state of affairs provoked me into an intense reflection politics of identity and the lie that if there’s anything our fraught national dialogue on ethnic prejudices has taught us, it’s that there are no ethnic bigots in this country. 

This is confirmed by conversations that many influential Kenyans generally believe tribal discrimination is over. It turns out that many of us actually believe we are victims of ethnic discrimination than people from other communities. It’s a silly idea, of course, but it’s easy to delude ourselves into thinking that inequality is a result of cultural failures (of others), ethnic pathology and a convoluted narrative involving the way some other communities have made it big in business, education and development generally due to their proximity to power. To admit that ethnic discrimination is fundamental to who we are, that it imbues our thinking in ways we wouldn’t and couldn’t believe without the application of the scientific method, is infinitely harder. And yet, there’s endless evidence to prove it. 

For those who of us who believe that discrimination based on tribalism is real and pervasive, it is also comforting to believe that discrimination is something perpetuated by other people, overlooking the ways we are personally complicit in its perpetuation. But a sober discourse about ethnicity in Kenya require acknowledging that it sits at the very core of our thinking. By something akin to osmosis, culturally held notions around ethnicity mould and shape the prejudices of everyone within the dominant culture. Therefore, as victims or perpetrators, we unwittingly internalise these prejudices, despite the fact that doing so contributes to our own marginalisation. Most of us know the destructive outcomes systemic ethnic discrimination produces (higher rates of poverty, infant mortality, school drop outs etc.). But we are held back to address these causes due our own deeply held notions about “other people”, the basis of implicit bias. There is evidence from anthropological and psychological studies on ethnic relations to support the idea of implicit bias.

For instance, do you know that you are likely to believe that people from another tribe are less susceptible to pain than those from your own? That they cannot feel pain, whether physiological or emotional. That may explain why you feel less empathy toward individuals from the other communities in emergency or painful situations than you do for those from your own community. You may even blame them for their predicament. It happens a lot in Kenya. Just visit the social media platforms and you will come to terms with this social reality. 

Besides, jokes and stereotype we hold about other communities are part the implicit biases that drive ethnic discrimination. This is the basis of what anthropologists refer to as the "super-humanisation bias". In this case, we continue to hold superstitious beliefs about some other community or communities. We look upon other communities with a biased notion they have preternatural or otherwise uncommon abilities. This may sound like good news, but it's not. Those stereotypes are part of the way we may justify the domination or exclusion of other people. We think of them as thieves, sorcerers, rapists, primitive, ugly, stupid etc. and justify our actions based on those stereotypes. This is perhaps one of the most horrifying aspect of implicit bias. 

 For instance, the extent to which a name of a suspect in a given case is perceived to have a stereotypically ethnic appearance could mean the difference between what we shall feel about the person’s innocence and culpability. If the individual is from a “suspect” community we adduce culpability. The bias is worsened if the victim is from our own community. Conversely, we falsely believe all individuals from our own community are “intelligent”, “competent”, “trustworthy, “reliable”, “smart”, “civilised” and “educated”. That is why we are likely to hire or favour an individual with an “innocent” name, meaning a name that is shared cross-culturally believing that the individual is from our own community and we are always “disappointed when we discover the truth”.  

 Therefore, ethnic discrimination in Kenya is comfortable and easy. It is the vehicle through which we can make quick, baseless decisions without the taxing act of thinking. So, the next time you catch yourself having a tribalist thought or feeling, try not brushing it off. Ask yourself where it came from, what it means and how you can unpack it. Because if the evidence above suggests anything, it’s that critical self-examination is our only hope of finding the needle in the sack of hay of unpacking and alleviating this thing, if at all. Therefore, stop imagining that being a tribalist is something that only other people do, and start looking closely at your own beliefs. Especially the ones you’ve never admitted to yourselves that you hold.