SOCIAL DISTANCING DURING THE COVID-19 PANDEMIC IN KENYA

Following the 11 March 2020 WHO declaration of 2019-nCoV as a pandemic, Kenya’s Cabinet Secretary for Health (Health CS) declared COVID-19 a notifiable disease vide Gazette Notice No. 2787 of 2020 and subsequently, declared it a formidable epidemic vide Legal Notice No. 37 of 2020 in exercise of powers conferred under the Public Health Act.  Without vaccines or medicines available, most of the solutions at the disposal of the Health CS were neither clinical nor pharmaceutical.  One such solution is “Social Distancing” which, for many Kenyans was dead on arrival as it is premised on a social construct that is alien to the average Kenyan.

When “Social Distancing” was first touted as the panacea for COVID-19, the question Kenyans raised was how people who lived in “Pipeline” were expected to “social distance”.  The middle & upper class furloughed their maids and markets were closed as news of a pandemic struck fear into people’s hearts.  The poor complained that they, who only “saw airplanes on Viusasa”, bore the brunt of a disease imported via Kenya’s national airport from abroad.  It is the poor working class who faced the wrath of the police as they enforced curfew restrictions and asked why they wore no masks. It is they - without safety nets or medical insurance - who could not sell their wares at they had always done.  Faced with bigger challenges like where their next meal would come from, families in crowded settlements considered, “Social Distancing” an alien & elitist concept.  How does one “social distance” in the myriad of informal or densely populated settlements that are an integral part of Kenya’s skylines?  It is therefore unsurprising that on any given day “jobless corner”, in Nairobi’s CBD near the iconic Hilton Hotel, was said to be as full as usual and where “Social Distancing” was not observed in any way, manner or form.

To add insult to injury and pointing to a disjointed strategy, the early morning surprise eviction – in the midst of a lockdown - of over 5,000 families in one of the settlements in Nairobi, despite a court order, led residents to question how a government would have proceeded with an eviction, had it been serious about containing a pandemic. The national opprobrium was based on the fact that it would be quasi impossible for those rendered homeless to seek alternative shelter due to curfew hours, lockdown between geographical boundaries and lack of affordable housing stock.

The issues in the Brazilian Favelas, the Kenyan Slums, the Egyptian City of the Dead and South African Black Townships are similar.   Most of the people who stand, squat, sleep or hang around these areas pay rent to slumlords and try their best to eke a living despite the extremely unfair situation that they find themselves in. Perhaps what is an unfortunate situation is also their biggest advantage, that their bodies are immune to what is otherwise a ravaging disease.


The human being is resilient and those who are forced to live in these settlements make the best of their situation.  A few even thrive but this does not reduce the tragedy of that existence.  That one is forced to raise their children in such deplorable conditions - either by choice, circumstance or design - is a mockery of the vote that they carry in a democratic society and a waste of the tax they pay either directly or indirectly. These challenges are best explained by the summary in "A House for Mr Biswas" by VS Naipaul which ponders about the dishonor of one having to live and die as one had been born, unnecessary and unaccommodated.

The question the Health CS has not answered is how one “Social Distances” when there is no space.

Steven Otter - Khayelitsha uMlungu in a Township

In 1999, I had the distinct pleasure of visiting Capetown, South Africa for a five week stint.  From the safety of my classroom I enjoyed the beauty of the Table Mountain and the Harbour. Whilst there, I had the pleasure to visit various places such as V&A Waterfront, Jakkalsfontein, Saldanha, Cape of Good Hope, Cape Agulhas (where the Atlantic meets the Indian Ocean) and Khayelitsha. You must remember that this was just 5 years after historic 1994 elections that saw Nelson Mandela elected as the first black president in a 'free' South Africa. I must digress to add that I was the only other black student in my class and my visits to all these places including Khayelitsha was at the courtesy of my 'white' classmate Tim who was determined that I should have something positive to say about this great nation that had just escaped the claws of a political system that was so difficult to understand.

So when I saw this book in a bookstore thirteen years after my first visit I was evidently drawn to it.  Interestingly, on the flight from Jo'burg to Cape Town, I had sat next to the 'black' Bishop of South Africa and a 'coloured' South African now at Howard University and I took time to educate myself by discussing the continued disparities - 18 years after the fall of Apartheid - in this rich nation that reminds me, ever so often, of the mighty Tshaka Zulu.

Khayelitsha  is one of the fastest growing informal settlements in the Western Cape. It is hidden somewhere beyond the mountains where it does not 'disturb' the average visitor's view...almost as one would hide a step child.  Khaya - as it is known in short - is 99.5% black - mostly Xhosa - with the remainder of the populace being of mixed race. Now I cannot strictly tell how this came to be but there was a time when South Africa's political system was famously known for Apartheid - to be set apart - with very strict pass laws.  My 'coloured' classmate in 1999 had attempted to educate me on the 1950 race laws when people were confined to live in certain areas in accordance to their race.  He explained to me the challenge that arose when a 'coloured' child was born to a 'black' mother and 'white' father (or vice versa)...All the three had to be separated unless the child could be defined as either black or white.   Then there is the complex story of SKIN where a dark child was born to two white parents. Officials struggled to define whether this child was black, white or coloured for the purposes of where she would live & school.  There was strictly no mixing of races - and the church condoned it - but that is another topic altogether for another day.

This book is not about the sin called apartheid but the effects thereof that continue to plague an otherwise great nation.  It is the true story of Steve Otter, a white South African, who throws caution to the wind and against the advice of his kinsfolk, takes a conscious decision to live in Khayelitsha during his journalism internship.  It is an extremely interesting read because the book  - in a very unassuming and non judgemental way - educates the reader on life in Khayelitsha.  In reading the book one faces the issue of informal settlements.   I could not help but compare Khayelitsha to the Kibra Townships in Nairobi, Kenya of which a lot has been said and written. Googling Khayelitsha I got 237,000 hits as compared with 2,200,000 hits for Kibra.  The issues in the Brazilian Favelas, the Kenyan Slums, The Egyptian City of the Dead and South African Black Townships are similar.   Most of the people who stand, squat, sleep or hang around these areas pay rent and try their best to eke a living despite the extremely unfair situation that they find themselves in. The human being is resilient and those who are forced to live in these settlements make the best of their situation.  A few even thrive but this does not reduce the tragedy of that existence.  That one is forced to raise their children in such deplorable conditions - either by choice, circumstance or design - is a mockery of the vote that they carry in a democratic society and a waste of the tax they pay either directly or indirectly. 

Governments find it impossible to do anything to address urban poverty given the entrenched interests at play, interests more powerful than drug & sugar barons or other mafia.  The story of informal settlements is a complex one for which there is no easy solution.  Some settlements are better than others and Khayelitsha & Soweto cannot compare to Alexandra, Kibra & Korogocho.  The elite, rich & middle classes sleep easy and blame those who live in such abject poverty for their own plight.  They glorify, explain or ignore informal settlements without understanding the challenges of poor sanitation, lack of space, lack of basic amenities, poor security and the stigma of that post code.  These challenges are best explained by the summary on "A House For Mr Biswas" by VS Naipaul which ponders about the dishonour of one having to live and die as one had been born, unnecessary and unaccommodated.


The question I kept asking myself as I flew back home is whether I - an African - would have the courage to experiment living in the informal settlements of Kayelitsha, Alexandra, Soweto or even Kibra. As it is, a cursory visit to Korogocho, left me traumatised for weeks on end.  I also wondered what God - in his mercy - would do with the folks who write, justify and perpetuate unjust laws, aided and abetted by those who condone them.  Is there a mansion waiting in heaven or will we be forced - in the sweet by and by - to live in shacks?