Maasai slowly caving in to Western lifestyles, but at a heavy price

On a hot afternoon at Il Bisil Trading Centre, about 30km from the Kenya-Tanzania border, Naponi Taiko serves revellers at Nasieku Bar.

It is shortly after 2pm and three hours to the official drinking time, but the six men who are already drunk order more beer.

A black Toyota Lexus SUV and a modest Toyota Probox are parked outside; their owners in casual trousers and T-shirts in contrast with the waitress who is clad in traditional Maasai attire. One of the men fiddles with a smartphone, attracting teases from colleagues.

After resisting the pleasures of western life for more than a century, the Maasai are caving in.

Il Bisil, loosely translated to ‘‘a place of nourishment’’ in Somali, was used by the British as a detention centre for Somali prisoners in the First World War. Until the early 1990s, it was a livestock market, operating twice a week.

Today, entertainment joints and shops that sell everything from electronics to bicycles and car spare parts dot the streets. Away from main roads, homesteads with permanent houses are mushrooming.

HEAVY PRICE

Modernity, as expected, is coming with a very heavy price. If unchecked, it could reduce the community to destitution in a matter of years.

At Orine Village, only four families out of 10 have not sold part or all their land, according to Pastor Lemarpe Senkari.

“There is a hunger for modern life. The only way to do so is by selling land since almost everybody here is unemployed. Unfortunately, all the money is spent on alcohol, cars and other luxuries. The land sellers are broke again in less than a year,” Pastor Senkari says.

At Oldonyoro, 20km from Il Bisil, the story is told of a man who sold his land for Sh30 million and spent Sh20 million to buy a Range Rover SUV in June last year.  Land activist Julius Nting’au says the man became agitated when confronted by his family and elders. “Two months after buying the car, its suspension was damaged. He could not afford the Sh300,000 required to fix it so the car is parked outside his house,” he says.

PAID MEAT DEBT WITH LAND

In the same village, a resident used part of his land to pay some money he owed a butcher.
“Culturally, when a man’s wife gives birth, he is supposed to slaughter a cow but this one opted to get meat on credit for three months. When payment time came, he took the butcher to his land and hived off part of it,” Mr Nting’au said.

According to a recent study on land ownership and transfer in Kajiado County by Youth Empowerment Support Services, 22 per cent of people who sold their land used the money to buy cars.

“The percentage of those who used the money to pay school fees was 55.3, while 34 per cent bought livestock. 19.7 per cent used it to build modern houses, 7.9 per cent for leisure, 6.6 per cent married other wives and 1.3 per cent fenced the remaining land,” says the study supported by the Swedish Embassy/Kenya, SIDA, UK Aid and Act!

Despite some of the land being next to tarmac roads, owners are selling an acre for about Sh100,000 to brokers who then sell it for as much as Sh500,000.

The problem has been blamed on ignorance. According to the Education Ministry, only 43 per cent of Kajiado residents have basic education. Lands Executive Isaac Parashima says many people do not know the value of their property.

“Some are signing away their land only to discover what they have done when the new owner starts fencing it,” he says.

LAND GRABBING

Some communal parcels do not have titles but this has created an avenue for politicians, brokers and corrupt officials to grab every available ‘free’ space.

The land between Kiserian and Tinga on the Athi River-Namanga road is supposed to be communal but locals say politicians have taken it, with some getting as much as 200 acres.

Traditionally, the Maasai do not own land individually. In an attempt to cushion them, the government passed the Group Representatives Act in 1960. It enabled them to form groups that would collectively own land. In 1968, sub-division of communally owned ranches began and each family got a title for at least 100 acres.

This, according to Dr Beneah Mutsotso, a sociology lecturer at the University of Nairobi, was the beginning of the end of Maasai culture as we know it.

“Sellers used the money to buy all sorts of things and everyone realised that land was something you could sell and make a lot of money,” he says.

He adds that unless the problem is addressed now, Maasai culture and livelihoods are in danger of extinction. The study mentioned earlier says 53 per cent of the land in the county is owned by non-Maasai who are better educated and have access to information and money.

“In the absence of a land policy, this will lead to conflicts,” it says.

FACE-OFF

In November last year, about 40,000 families at Shompole and Olkiramatian ranches faced off when a company filed and won a court order allowing it to auction the land at the Narok-Kajiado border.

Kennedy Bikuri, the CEO of Yess- Kenya says in less than 20 years, the happenings in Maasailand could be replicated at the Coast where whole communities are squatters.

“A number of Maasai are already homeless and some are in Kitengela and other towns where they work as guards. It is bad we don’t have regulations but it is even worse that the community is surrounded by unplanned urbanisation and an environment run by corrupt officers,” he says.

The study formed the basis of a county-specific Kajiado Land Policy that is before the County Assembly and which experts say if implemented, will stem conflicts.