----- Original Message -----
Sent: Friday, August 20, 2010 7:37 AM
Subject: Fwd: KENYA: When the Police are the
Perpetrators
Hi everyone, FYI
>>> Les Malezer <
les.m...@gmail.com> 19/08/2010
4:31 pm >>>
[Aboriginal News]
When the Police are the
Perpetrators
Author: Paula Palmer
CSQ Issue: 34-1
(Spring 2010)
Samburu Under Attack
"I heard bullets, so I rushed
out of my house,� said the woman,
cradling her bandaged arm. �I was
only about five meters outside when
a bullet hit me in the arm, just
below the elbow. My children were
screaming. I saw the police kicking
and beating them. Everyone was
running and crying.�
The woman
speaking was sitting in a circle of women in the Samburu
village of
Loruko, in northern Kenya. Together they were recounting
the day last
November when hundreds of Kenyan police attacked their
settlement.
The attack came at dawn, as police surrounded the village
and began
firing into it. Families were startled awake that
morning by the hiss
and zing of bullets and the cries of their
neighbors as they realized
they were under assault. Emerging from the
darkness of the low mud
huts called bomas, they saw children, women,
and men running and
crying as uniformed police beat them with heavy
sticks and rifle
butts. Lopeyok Lenkupai picked up his two babies and
started running
toward the edge of the village, but police bullets hit
him in the hip
and the chest, and he fell to the ground.
As
police ground troops swarmed through the village flushing everyone
from their homes, a police helicopter swooped down and circled the
village to keep the people from escaping. �The police herded us like
cows outside the village to an open field,� an elder recounted. �There
were hundreds of us there. They told us to lie down, and then they
stepped on us with their heavy boots, they kicked us and caned us.
They beat the children and the ladies who were pregnant, the elders,
everyone. They beat us all.� In the vacated village, police ransacked
and looted the bomas. They emptied gourds of milk and dashed people�s
precious stores of maize flour and rice to the ground. They broke into
metal boxes where families store their valuables and took cell phones,
ID cards, school supplies, watches, beads, and a total of $14,000 in
cash from 110 homes.
As the battered and terrified people found their
ways back into the
village, a cry arose from one of the bomas, where
children were seen
stepping out into the sunlight, covered with blood.
�You have killed
my mother!� a small boy shouted at a policeman, who
then peered into
the dark boma. The policeman came out, blew his
whistle, and all the
troops retreated. When villagers went inside,
they found a woman dead,
her head nearly blasted away, and her infant
at her breast. Her name
was Ndanait Lemantile; she had five
children.
A neighbor woman later recalled, �Our sister who was killed,
she was
nursing her baby when she died. We women cannot leave our
children
behind. The old men ran away, but we women, we lay down over
our
children to protect them. We were just waiting for death. This is
the
pain that women feel when we see our children beaten, when we
hear
them cry. We are afraid that the police will come again. We have
heard
that they raped women in other villages. We can�t sleep because
of
what we saw. Our children cry in the night.�
The surprise
police attack on the Samburu community of Loruko was just
one of a
series that took place between February 2009 and January
2010. During
this one-year period, at least 10 Samburu villages in
East Samburu and
Isiolo districts suffered police assaults. In every
attack, police
brutally beat women, children, men, and elders, stole
or destroyed
their belongings, and terrorized the entire community. In
some
villages, police committed murder, rape, and arson. In the first
coordinated attack on three villages in February 2009, the police
confiscated all the people�s cattle, over 4,000 head, belonging to 86
families. The loss of their cattle left these Samburu families utterly
impoverished and dangerously vulnerable to famine at a time of severe
drought.
Starting in late February of 2009, Cultural Survival began
receiving
disturbing reports of these violent attacks on Indigenous
Samburu
communities, including accounts of death, injury, disability,
rape,
displacement, terror, impoverishment, hunger, disease, and
malnutrition. In November, we submitted a report to the United
Nations, and in January 2010, human rights expert Chris Allan and I,
as Cultural Survival�s Global Response program director, spent two
weeks in Kenya conducting our own investigation. We recorded testimony
from Samburu survivors and witnesses in five villages attacked by the
police, and we interviewed respected leaders of local and national
NGOs, clergy, health workers, human rights representatives, and
elected and appointed regional officials. We consolidated our findings
in a report that we submitted to the Kenyan government, the United
Nations, the U.S. State Department, and human rights organizations.
(You can view the report on Cultural Survival�s website:
www.cs.org/samburureport.)
When we arrived in Kenya, the devastating
drought of the previous year
had just ended, and the rains had greened
the acacia trees and
grasses. The forested slopes of the Samburus�
sacred mountains rose
from the vast plains, dotted here and there with
the lone acacia trees
that are emblematic of East Africa. We bounced
along the deeply rutted
dirt roads in our Land Cruiser, passing
oblivious giraffes and
elephants, and even a cheetah who sat
motionless in the bright sun. As
we neared a village, we would begin
to see a few low bomas among the
acacias and then the thorn-bush
circular boundaries of the compounds
called manyattas. As we stepped
out of the vehicle, people began
walking toward us from all
directions, unhurried.
�Supa, supa,� they said as they softly shook our
hands in welcome,
smiling and intoning deep �hmmmm�s as we responded,
�Supa, supa.�
Everyone came, taking our hands one by one in
greeting. As our local
guides and interpreters explained the
purpose of our visit, people
nodded, �Eeh, eeh,� and led us toward a
shady spot where we could sit.
The male elders brought their own tiny,
three-legged stools and
offered the same stools for us to sit on; the
women and children
settled into a circle around us, their colored
skirts and red-beaded
necklaces contrasting brightly with the dirt and
ubiquitous dry cow
dung. And then they began to tell us what
happened.
Like the other pastoralist tribes in northern Kenya�the
Turkana,
Pokot, Borana, Rendille, Meru, and Somalis�the Samburu depend
on their
cattle for their survival and for their pride, status,
identity, and
happiness. For centuries, they have guided their herds
of cattle,
sheep, goats, and camels across the vast plains of northern
Kenya in
search of water and pasture. During droughts, they may lose
half or
all their animals, and their own populations rise and fall
with the
size and health of their herds. They know each animal by
sight and by
name and sing songs about them and to them. Cows� milk
and blood are
the Samburus� main source of nourishment and the
centerpiece of every
ceremony and celebration. In Lerata, I watched an
elderly Samburu
woman lovingly stroke and cuddle a calf for hours as
we sat in the
shade of an acacia tree hearing testimonies about the
terrifying
police attacks on her village.
The Samburu people�s
daily life revolves around the needs of their
cattle for pasture,
water, and milking. The women milk the cows and
other livestock in the
morning, and boys and young men (morans) are
charged with finding them
pasture and water, protecting them, and
bringing them home at night to
the safety of thorn-bush corrals. The
morans form a close-knit age
set, learn critical survival skills
together, and protect their
communities� precious livestock while
living on their own, apart from
the manyattas. To protect the cattle,
they face down lions and fight
off raiding morans from neighboring
rival tribes. Through the
centuries, the Samburu and their pastoralist
neighbors have
occasionally raided each other�s cattle to replenish
their stocks
after droughts and to exert dominance over prized water
sources and
territory. Cattle raiding has been an unofficially
sanctioned
tradition among the morans as a way of proving manhood and
gaining
status.
But in the months leading up to the February 2009 police attacks
on
Lerata, Laresoro, and Naishamunye, cattle raiding among the
Samburu
and their rival tribes had intensified in both frequency and
violence,
mainly due to the increasing availability of guns in the
region.
Raiders carrying guns are much more likely to kill and injure
tribal
rivals, causing terrible grief and resentment and provoking
acts of
revenge. In early 2009, the communities and politicians were
calling
on the police to capture the cattle thieves and restore law
and order.
And that was the stated reason for the first police
attacks. In
February 2009, police assaulted the communities of Lerata,
Laresoro,
and Naishamunye ostensibly to recover cattle that the
Samburu had
allegedly stolen from rival tribes over the previous
years. But the
police confiscated the communities� entire herd, more
than 4,000 head
of cattle, leaving the people without income or food
during a severe
drought. They then redistributed the animals among the
Samburus� rival
tribes, without even bothering to trace or record
their ownership.
A Samburu elder, who was a retired senior sergeant in
the Kenyan army,
tried unsuccessfully to retrieve his confiscated
cattle. He told us,
�I have never stolen any cattle. I retired from
the army and have
always been a 100-percent government person. I
bought my cattle with
my pension when I retired. The police took all
170 of my cattle. After
32 years of government service I feel
bitter.� Three Samburu morans
were shot and killed by police
when they refused to abandon their
confiscated cows.
Member of
Parliament Raphael Letimalo, who represents Samburu East
district,
vigorously protested the police action, and he is still
demanding
compensation, but his pleas have been ignored. �Kenya is
turning into
a police state,� he lamented. �The police didn�t come
here to look for
stolen cattle. They came to take away all the cattle,
like a
punishment. The police are criminalizing entire Samburu
communities
and punishing all the people. Of course the people feel
bitterness,
and they will keep feeling this bitterness until the
cattle are
returned.� Even the tribes that benefited from the
redistribution of the confiscated cattle protested the police action
for being punitive against the Samburu and provocative. For example,
the Meru community of Isiolo strongly condemned �the excessive use of
force on unarmed Samburu pastoralists� and stated that the police
actions created �hatred and suspicion among the pastoralist
neighbors.� They urged the provincial administration and political
leaders to �dissolve the tension that has been created by the ongoing
[police] exercise.�
The Kenyan government has much to be concerned
about in this vast,
scarcely populated, largely undeveloped northern
region. Its neighbors�
Somalia, Ethiopia, Sudan, and Uganda�are plagued with
civil wars and
unrest that can easily spill across unprotected
borders. Small-arms
traders bring guns across those borders into
Kenya, increasing the
deadliness of conflicts of all kinds. Bandits
make roads so unsafe
that last year a Catholic bishop threatened to
pull all the church�s
teachers, health workers, aid workers, and
mission staff out of the
region unless better security could be
provided. Terrorists have
already made devastating strikes in
Nairobiand Mombasa, and the
vulnerable northern and eastern borders
offer them the easiest illegal
entrance to Kenya.
The Kenyan
government is eager to impose law and order in the north to
make way
for development and modernization in the region. Long
neglected and
deprived of government services, including roads,
schools, and medical
facilities, the northern region is now targeted
for fast-track
development. Government planners envision Isiolo as
Kenya�s next
wildlife tourism hub, with luxury hotels and a network of
roads into
the surrounding game reserves, national parks, and wildlife
conservancies. The photogenic Samburu are sure to adorn the new
tourist brochures and websites, but will increased tourism and
development help or hinder the survival of their culture and
pastoralist economy?
�The government has never helped us pastoralists
the way they help the
agriculturalists with subsidies, technology, and
transportation for
their crops,� said Raphael Letimalo, the member of
Parliament who
represents Samburu East district. �The Samburu are the
people who have
done the most to protect the wild animals here,� he
continued. �We
don�t kill animals for food, and we protect the
elephants from the
ivory poachers. We should receive the benefit from
tourism.�
Letimalo and his constituents worry that instead of bringing
the
needed schools, clinics, and veterinary services to the
north,
development will benefit others and further encroach upon the
pasture
lands for their livestock. Chinese oil companies are already
exploring
near Isiolo. These pressures, along with gloomy forecasts of
more
frequent and severe drought as a consequence of climate change,
are
stressing the pastoralist tribes and intensifying their
competition
for scarce water and pasture.
To make matters
worse, some politicians in the region have fanned the
flames of
intertribal conflict and are widely perceived as
manipulating or even
instigating the conflicts for their political
advantage. Chief among
them is Mohamed Kuti, member of Parliament for
Isiolo District, who
last year used his political influence to put 300
government-issued
guns into the hands of his Somali and Borana
constituents, knowing
that they would be used against the Samburu.
Notably, Somalis and
Boranas generally vote for Kuti�s Party of
National Unity, whereas the
Samburu generally support opposition
candidates in the Orange
Democratic Movement. Political manipulation
of intertribal conflict
was at the root of the nationwide violence
that broke out after
Kenya�s fraudulent 2007 presidential election,
and many Kenyans fear
that the 2012 elections will generate even worse
violence unless the
government takes steps toward political and police
reform.
Everyone, government officials and pastoralist tribes alike,
agree
that the proliferation of firearms in northern Kenya is
exacerbating
all the other problems and that universal disarmament is
necessary.
Last November, President Kibaki announced a disarmament
operation in
the north, but the government missed a great opportunity
to unite the
different tribal communities through an impartial and
collaborative
disarmament process. Instead, Kibaki sent thousands of
police troops
specifically into the Samburu East district, where the
majority of
Samburu live, and authorized them to forcibly recover any
firearms
that were not voluntarily turned in before December 24.
Samburu elders
made lists of guns held in their villages and called
the authorities
in to receive them. Still, fear gripped the villages,
and hundreds of
women fled with their children in anticipation of the
December 24
crackdown. Fortunately, Raphael Letimalo and the Kenyan
National
Commission on Human Rights persuaded the government to
postpone the
deadline, first to January 20, 2010, and then to February
20. But the
police didn�t seem to get the message. During the amnesty
period, on
January 10, they attacked the village of Lerata, and on
January 12 they
assaulted Kiltamany. In these attacks, eight Samburu
women were raped
in their homes, five morans were beaten unconscious,
and two homes
were set on fire. In Kiltamany alone, police robbed 46
homes and stole
$550 in cash from a women�s self-help group that had
received the
money as a loan from an international
organization.
The January 2010 police attacks have had profound
psychological
impacts on the Samburu people. A mother of five from
Lerata said,
�After the police attack, we women could not eat for
three days; we
just trembled. My children cried out in their sleep,
and I couldn�t
sleep at all. We heard a rumor that the police would
come again, so we
took our children out to the bush at night, hiding.
I am more afraid
of the police than of the wild animals. If they come
again, I will run
away with my children.�
The women have other
worries as well. A 32-year-old mother of five
from Kiltamany, who was
raped, told me her story: �My husband was away
working at the Lodge. I
was alone in the house. A car came about 2
p.m., and someone shouted
to me, �Mother, mother, a car is here.� The
policeman forced himself
in. He said, �Give me your snuff.� I said,
�I don�t have any.�
He said, �Give me some sex; I want to rape you.�
Another policeman was
shouting, �Catch the woman, catch her!� Then he
raped me. Now I am so
worried. Will that policeman make me sick with
AIDS?�
As one
indignant 82-year-old elder in Lerata pointed out, attacking
Samburu
villages to disarm the residents was wholly unnecessary: �The
elders
have a list of everyone here who has a gun, so all the police
have to
do is ask them. But instead they come and beat the women and
the
children, and steal their things. Women and children don�t have
guns,
so why are they being raped and beaten?�
Part of the reason for the blind
ferocity of the police attacks could
be the persistent racism and
prejudice that Kenyans who have taken the
path toward assimilation and
westernization feel toward minority
tribes like the Samburu who
preserve their traditions. Throughout
Kenya, the pastoralists are
commonly derided as backward, stupid, and
violent, and these racist
attitudes make it easier for young police
officers to dehumanize the
Samburu people.
It is also true that throughout the country, Kenyan
police forces have
acted with notorious brutality and impunity since
colonial times. Last
year, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on
Extrajudicial,
Arbitrary and Summary Executions blasted the Kenyan
police, describing
them as �a law unto themselves,� and reporting
that, �They kill often
and with impunity.� He attributed their
behavior to their superiors at
the highest level of government, who
permit them to �kill at will.�
Some of these high government officials
are now under investigation by
prosecutors for the International
Criminal Court, and they may be
brought to trial for instigating
police and intertribal violence after
the 2007 election. The police
assaults on the Samburu people reveal
yet another face of these
corrupt and self-serving politicians who
have enjoyed impunity too
long.
�We are fighting two wars now,� summed up an elder in Lerata,
�one
against drought and famine, and one against the police. We have
no
government anymore. We have no country. The government is
biased
against us. Now our people are frightened and they are leaving
their
homes and going as far away as they can to hide from the
police.�
Another elder in Kirish appealed urgently for our help: �We
are
refugees now in our own country, so we are crying to you from
our
hearts because our government is against us.�
---
Paula
Palmer is director of Cultural Survival�s Global Response program.
http://www.culturalsurvival.org/publications/cultural-survival-quarterly/kenya/when-police-are-perpetrators
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