Lamu remains one of the best places to relax despite threats

I first visited Lamu Island in 2005, and last weekend returned for the seventh time. In my opinion, it is one of the best places in the world to relax and unwind.

The local people, the narrow streets of Lamu town, the bougainvillea decorated and donkey populated alleyways of Shella, the white sandy beach, and fresh seafood dinners, collectively endow the island with a unique atmosphere.

However, inhabitants face an uncertain future as insecurity on the mainland and travel advisories deal a blow to the island’s tourist industry, which could take years to recover.

Over 80 people have been killed in terrorist attacks in Lamu County in the past month. The impact on Lamu Island – hitherto a popular tourist destination – was glaring the moment I left Nairobi on an almost empty 11-seater plane. There were only three passengers, two international journalists and myself.

For the duration of our stay, Shella and Lamu town were incredibly quiet and hoteliers bemoaned how most tourists had cancelled their bookings.

The island was as beautiful as ever. But one could not help feel – especially after the UK government extended their travel advisory to Lamu and the upper parts of Tana County last Saturday – that it wasn’t a particularly sensible holiday destination.

Conversations with each other, and those we met, inevitably kept returning to the issue of security and the island’s economic outlook.

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While we were also keenly aware of the fact that we would feel fairly stupid if anything did happen – there had, after all, been a series of attacks in Lamu over the past month, which the security forces had failed to prevent.

Understandably, locals were insistent that the island was still safe, and many requested – and even pleaded – with us to tell people “back in Nairobi” and “our countries” that Lamu was safe and that people should still travel.

Indeed, the island’s inhabitants were clearly feeling the stresses of insecurity. First, many will know someone who had been killed or has been directly affected.

Second, the duration and scale of the first Mpeketoni attack – and fact that it was quickly followed by attacks in neighbouring areas – has further eroded peoples’ faith in the security sector’s preventative and responsive capacities.

Third, the recent circulation of leaflets warning non-Muslims to “move out” of the area, together with the UK’s extension of its travel advisory, has fuelled fears that insecurity might, at some point, extend to the island itself.

FEWER DHOW TRIPS

Most affecting, however, was the day-to-day stresses that inhabitants clearly faced as they struggle to feed and educate their families and plan for the future in the face of high cost of living, a sudden economic downturn, and uncertain economic outlook.

For example, some hotels were rotating their staff on two weeks on, two weeks off basis – their earnings then further hit by the inevitable reduction in tips. The impact of low tourist numbers then trickles down through the entire economy as fewer dhow trips are taken, less food and drink is consumed and shops and stalls enjoy lower sales.

Moreover, while tourist cancellations were already taking their toll, reports from hoteliers, agents, and journalists revealed how almost no new bookings are being made for the next year, which fuels concerns about how long it would take for the local tourist industry to recover even if there are no additional attacks.

But what is the cause of insecurity in Lamu County? What impact is it likely to have beyond the immediate economic downturn? And what needs to be done to mitigate the damage done, and to ensure the situation is turned around?

According to some, recent attacks in Mpeketoni and neighbouring areas, are the work of Al-Shabaab. For others, it is the work of local politicians.

However, the attacks suggest that elements within Al-Shabaab have become newly adept at exploiting local grievances to mobilise support – and violence – on an increased scale. As a result, different strands of discontent, which have previously been fairly distinct, are becoming increasingly interwoven.

This shift may be driven by radical Islamists and opportunistic local elites, but it has been made possible by the weakness of Kenya’s security forces, local narratives of historic and ongoing injustice, and the vulgarisation of violence that has characterised coastal politics in recent years, and which, to some extent, has normalised the organised use of lethal force to pursue electoral advantage or other political agendas.

However, the impact of the ensuing insecurity extends far beyond Lamu County. This includes the inevitable impact on Kenya’s national economy, but also peoples’ faith in the country’s security services, levels of ethnic polarisation, and the tone and substance of political debate.

First, security forces appear to be fairly adept at taking up strategic positions to quell possible unrest in Opposition strongholds – as evidenced during last year’s election, the announcement of the Supreme Court’s electoral decision, and the recent Saba Saba rally.

However, they seem to have far less capacity to gather intelligence and prevent attacks (admittedly a difficult task in any context) and to respond to terrorist attacks when they do occur – as evidenced during the four day “siege” on Westgate last year and seven hour attack on Mpeketoni last month.

MORE INTELLIGENCE AND RESPONSE

Second, while it seems that many Kikuyus were becoming increasingly critical of the Jubilee government towards the beginning of this year, there seems to have been a shift in the past couple of months to a more defensive ethnic unity.

Many Kikuyus, it seems, fear the possibility of further violence in the Rift Valley if the Jubilee alliance does eventually splinter, and also now feel that they are being targeted at the Coast. In turn, they seem to feel less willing to criticise the government even if they are aware of its shortcomings.

Add to this an escalation of political debate and activity as politicians tour the country and throw accusations and counter-accusations against each other, one finds oneself in a pre-election type situation some three, or perhaps even four years away from an election.

The question then is what happens over the course of the next few years? And what can be done to try and ensure that security is maintained, inter-ethnic and religious relations improve, the economy continues to grow, and jobs are created?

These are obviously difficult questions to answer, but they are important ones that need to be discussed in a calm and inclusive manner.

One place to start might be to admit – as my Warwick colleague David Anderson recently argued – that “Kenya’s securocratic government, in which heavy-handed policing and military actions are justified in an atmosphere where xenophobia against Somalis and Muslims is being fostered, cannot achieve the political compromises that are needed”.

Instead, more attention needs to be given to intelligence and response, and to winning the hearts and minds of an increasing number of Kenyans who feel marginalised, frustrated, and excluded from the spoils of power.

In short, the thing with elections is that there is an obvious end – the election is held and results are announced. However, in the current situation there is no election that is going to bring a halt to rising levels of ethnic polarisation, tension, and division.

Instead, it is up to Kenyans – and particularly the political class – to face, and to start to meaningfully address, the real problems faced.

This not only includes the terrorist threat posed by Al-Shabaab, but also the strong local narratives of injustice and marginalisation that they seem to be increasingly effective at exploiting.

Gabrielle Lynch, Associate Professor of Comparative Politics, University of Warwick, UK ([email protected]; @GabrielleLynch6)