We are educated, but our sons must be ‘cut’ the Samburu way

A rope is drawn tightly around the neck of a bull to expose the jugular vein.

A specially blocked small arrow is shot from close range to pierce the wall of the vein. The blood that spurts out is tapped into a gourd.

When the required amount has been tapped, Gabriel Leneng’wesi, one of the village elders, stuffs a few hairs into the puncture. He then squeezes the wound until the blood coagulates. The animal is then released.

He stirs the tapped blood to remove filaments. When the clots have been twined around a stick, he mixes the blood with milk and gives it to his newly circumcised son, Lemayian, to consume.

“It took about five warriors to hold the bull. It’s not an easy task. It also requires great skill and experience to hit the bull’s vein to draw blood,” he says.

A new age set of morans called Lkisieku is being circumcised across Samburu County.

It began in July among some clans and is expected to run up to December. It’s the beginning of a new generation. Everyone, especially young men, is excited. The youths know they will soon graduate to warrior-hood.

CULTURE

The Samburu, just like the Maasai, are a semi-nomadic people. They are still very traditional and have not parted with old customs despite the pressures of modern life.

Cattle, as well as goats, sheep and camels, play a vital role in their culture because they are highly dependent on the livestock for survival. Their diet comprises mostly meat, milk and occasionally blood from cows.

However, the male circumcision ritual is the biggest and rarest ceremony that occurs once every 10 to 15 years and the boys, aged as young as eight and sometimes as old as 20, are circumcised in a two-month-long ceremony as the circumciser travels from village to village to complete his task.

“It’s an emotionally charged event and boys wait for what must be an eternity during the last few days for the circumcision to take place. It is performed by a specially-anointed man whose skills are passed down from generation to generation,” Leneng’wesi says.

At the small village of Simale, about 105 kilometres from Maralal town, his 17-year-old son Lemayian faced the knife a few days ago without anaesthesia. Only cold water mixed with milk was given to Lemayian to help dull the sharp pain.

EDUCATION

Like other boys in the village, he faced the ritual with utmost dignity — because to even flinch when the knife is brought to bear, will bring great shame to himself and his family.

Leneng’wesi, 45, is a father of four and has a Master’s degree in Diplomacy and International studies.

He holds two bachelor degrees in Conflict Management and Psychology from the University of Nairobi.

He works and lives in Nairobi, but despite being among the most educated Kenyans, he still treasures his Samburu traditions. “I have seen a few families alienating themselves from our tradition. It’s very sad, and even emerging churches are creating confusion, making families forget their culture. It’s wrong. Cultural identity is very important,” he says.

And he is not the only highly-educated parent in Samburu who still values the old traditions.

Severina Lesangurukuri, a mother of two boys, is pursuing a PhD degree in Education Leadership and Administration at Wichita State University, United States.

In a phone interview with Lifestyle, she said she would be arriving in Kenya soon to take her boys for traditional circumcision in her Samburu village.

“When I was getting ready for my master’s graduation at Wichita State University in the US last year, I would wear my cultural beads on my neck and our beautiful Samburu headgear. I was granted permission by the graduate school to do it and it was one of the most amazing feelings ever,” she said.

IDENTITY

According to her, male circumcision is one of the most important cultural identities of the Samburu because it is more of a foundation on which every other boundary is established.

“At a very young age, we embrace the traditions and norms of our parents and grandparents and hold onto them as we grow older. We continue to practise them as it becomes a source of identity for us. Male circumcision is one of them, and even my young boys are excited,” she explained.

There is also Raphael Lenayara, who is currently pursuing his master’s degree at the University of Nairobi.

He is already in the village singing circumcision songs (lebarta) for his two boys. “Taking my boys to hospital for circumcision will never happen. I believe doing it traditionally will give them confidence and they will grow as brave morans,” Lenayara says.

Loosenge Turoop of Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology, one of the few professors from Samburu land, says Samburu culture has been a guiding principle in his life journey.

“I believe a people with a strong culture have good values in life. For instance, during the boys’ circumcision, the practice is not just being told that ‘now you are man’. It teaches the young people to be responsible citizens in the society.

"During the moranism period, they learn the norms: the dos and don’ts; the culture of the people and the roles the society expects of them in the future,” he says.

HIV PREVENTION

Unfortunately, he adds, the colonial-based education trashed and made many believe that everything African was equated to backwardness.

“If we look at the current corruption in our systems of leadership, what would our forefathers have thought about it? They would have simply said that ‘our societal norms won’t allow me to steal,’” Loosenge, who is also preparing his 14-year-old boy Loitemwa for traditional circumcision, explains.

Recently, the Samburu County government procured more than 20,000 circumcision knives in efforts to fight the risks of HIV infection among young men getting circumcised.

The county’s ministry of Social Services, Gender and Culture also procured gloves and other health equipment to facilitate a hygienic exercise.

The ministry’s chief officer, Andrew Lenyasunya, says that in Samburu culture boys are circumcised en masse.

“Boys are circumcised in big numbers and, in the past, the circumcisers used only one knife. But things have changed and to avoid the spread of HIV, we have also trained circumcisers on hygiene and we have provided gloves and other sterilisers,” Lenyasunya said.

Once a boy has been circumcised, he is considered a moran (warrior). The men are placed in age sets and move as a group from one social position to another: from child to moran, to junior elder and finally to elder.

POOR PARENTING

Unlike what used to happen in the past, most young warriors now value education and the recently-initiated Lemayian is one of them.

He says that once he is done with the ceremony, he will be joining college to study civil engineering. “I will join college in September where I will pursue my degree in civil engineering. Even if I go outside the country to further my education, I will not alienate myself from my roots. Our culture is very beautiful and it’s admired worldwide,” he says.

Alois Leadekei is the founder of Samburu Aboriginal Cultural Museum. He uses social media to help young people from Samburu understand their culture.

Leadekei blames modern parents for not helping their children embrace the culture. “It’s sad to see some Samburu families forgetting their traditions; the parents are to blame. They are not teaching their children how to embrace our culture.

"Most of them are now somewhere between Samburu tradition and Western lifestyle. We call them Lmetiorere, meaning cultureless; it’s not good at all; they need to value this beautiful culture,” he advises.

The tenacity of the Samburu tradition has been a subject of interest to anthropologists and missionaries for decades.

And one of the enduring aspects of the tradition is the institution of moranism or warrior-hood.

HEROISM

In his paper titled “The Concept of Heroism in Samburu Moran Ethos” published by the Journal of African Cultural Studies, Peter Wasamba argues that among the Samburu the title of moran is a metaphor for heroism due to the military and aesthetic exploits morans are famed for.

“Though threatened with modernity, moranism (among the Samburu) is still a coveted institution that promotes comradeship, self-esteem, courage, strength, perseverance, self-sacrifice and adventurism in young men,” he writes.

He also argues that in spite of the challenges it is facing, moranism still remains the foundation on which the pride of the Samburu community is grounded. “Young boys are looking forward to the day they will join the prestigious club of morans,” he writes.

The future of moranism among the Samburu, he notes, lies in maintaining a delicate balance between cultural pragmatism and nostalgic attachment to the heroic past.