Justice and safety
It was a typical warm Kenya evening. The temperatures had
dropped slightly. Sitting outside for our evening meal was quite enjoyable. We
recently moved a small table to our front deck to take full advantage of
savoring time in the setting sun. Shaded perfectly by the tall trees in the
garden, this open-air dining room is a pretty sweet spot. Steeping tea in the ceramic teapot we found in
the quarters is now our favourite way of sipping our after-dinner brew, along
with indulging in some of my homemade oatmeal cookies for dessert. We truly love
the quietness after a busy day at the office.
Not long after the last drop of tea was gone, we started to
do some reading. Lots of evenings we have work to catch up on but tonight we
were happy to have space for one of our favourite pastimes. Erica had just
given Morris a new book for his birthday, called “When breath becomes air”. He
was taken by the true story of a neuro surgeon who became a patient, battling a
life-threatening lung disease. He
decided to enjoy more of the evening outside while he read. I had begun an
intriguing read by Amanda Lang, a Canadian journalist, called “The Beauty of
Discomfort”. The first chapter tweaked my interest and I was eager to continue.
Shortly after we got lost in our books, we heard it. Bang. Bang. Bang. Stop. Then again. This time
even more. What was that? It couldn’t be fireworks. Gunfire? Feeling some of his own discomfort, Morris came inside
where I was. The shots were loud and
sounded close, though we knew it must be outside the gate. Where was this coming from? And why?
A few days earlier, the country’s political situation had
been disturbed again when the Opposition leader, Mr. Raila Odinga, was
illegally ‘sworn in’ as the ‘People’s President’. There didn’t seem to be a lot of fallout, for
which everyone gave a sigh of relief. However, we knew that earlier in the day,
riots had erupted in two areas of the country – Kisumu and Migori. Was it
possible that Kakamega was now being affected by violence too? We had prayed
for peace many times over the past year, because of the unsettled atmosphere of
unrest due to the government elections. It felt like we were being called to
pray again. We contacted some friends who we knew would join us in seeking
God’s protection.
Naturally feeling unsettled about the noise, we hurried next
door to talk to our neighbors. They were
also intrigued by the sounds of the shooting and as baffled as we were about
the source. The noise we assumed was gunfire lasted nearly an hour, til finally
the commotion dissipating into the distance.
No one on the grounds seemed to know what had happened, not even the guards. Eventually we went to bed with the familiar
breath prayers - “Safety Lord. Please keep us all safe.”
The following day we were enlightened. The commotion we
heard the night before was gun shots. In a neighborhood not far from Shimalavandu,
our compound, a large group of people in the community had taken the law into
their own hands. Apparently a family in the area had been causing a lot of chaos
for a long time. Fear was escalating for the neighbors as fighting and violence
(even killings) were going on and the police had not responded to the constant complaints
of those feeling traumatized. Acting as vigilantes, a community uprising
ensued. The family was driven out of the area and their house burned to the
ground. The gunfire we heard was the
police responding to the mutiny. As
emotions soared out of control, the crowd became unruly and the shots were
fired into the air to manage the disturbance and move the people out.
It was with mixed feelings that we heard what had
happened. Thankful that political unrest
was not the cause of the disturbance, what had occurred was still unsettling. Where was justice? What measures have to be
taken to ensure people are safe? What recourse did the community have? When those trusted to protect the community
do not fulfill their duty, what options are there? AND if everyone became their
own law enforcer, how would order and safety ever be present or reliable? Imagine
the chaos that would bring. So, what happens when victims feel they have no
voice, no advocate? When does the end
justify the means? Are there more questions than answers?
In any community or country, peace and safety can only come
when there is a trustworthy and organized system of the administration of
justice. Around the globe, we long for country
officials and community leaders to be men and women of integrity and
reliability. We desire governments and law enforcers who are dependable and who
work for the welfare and democratic rights of all citizens, shaping a just
world for everyone. Unfortunately this desired ideal is sometimes out of reach
and often that means many people suffer.
Morris and I have felt very safe living in Kenya. We have
had almost no fear of being hurt but we aware that there are those around us
who have been adversely affected by violence – some just because they’ve been
in the wrong place at the wrong time, others because they chose to be involved.
This is not unique to Kenya.
Like many of you, I long for the day when all people live
together in harmony, and safety and justice truly becomes everyone’s right.
