Sunday, 22 February 2015

Nairobi series - Nairobi National Museum

The hotel front desk manager highly recommended that I should visit this Museum. It's just a short ride from the hotel and the pick up and drop off cost Ksh 1000 for a ~1 km drive (each way). I have no idea if this is a fair price or not.

This is an interesting institution: almost empty on a Sunday, hardly any locals and only a small band of white Caucasians in suit and tie looking very bored with their guide. The entrance fee is Ksh 1,200 without the snake pit. It was far too hot to contemplate going outside to find some snakes. The young staff at the reception were keen to make conversation: "Where do you come from?" "How long have you been at Nairobi?", but the prevailing ambiance was one of lethargy. The security guards sitting outside the entrance door were chatting among themselves and were inactive the whole time.

There are 5 main sections: Human Origins, Hall of Mammals, Birds of Kenya, Kenya History and Circles of Life. Apart from the stuffed birds of which I have no interest, the other 4 sections can easily take up 3 hours of viewing time. The illustrations are generally good, so there is no need for a guide. Besides, I like my own pace and my own space.


The entrance. It was baking hot.
Hall of Kenya. A lovely display of gourds.
The Black Skull, 2.5 million years old


It sounds a bit macabre to look at skulls, however ancient they are. I cannot say that I found the skulls or the skeletons of the Turkana Boy jaw dropping, but it is enlightening to see at first hand human evolution. The Black Skull gets its name from the blue-black sheen it acquired from the minerals surrounding it at Lake Turkana.

Much of the section on Kenyan history was devoted to the colonial era: land alienation (basically land grab by the white settlers), colonial exploitation, local resistance and eventually independence in 1963. 

One of the objects that symbolized colonial oppression was the Kipande, introduced shortly after the outbreak of WWI for Africans to wear around their necks, containing their registration papers. The Europeans were exempt because they had passports. To the Africans, the kipande was an oppressive badge of slavery since failure to produce it when required attracted instant punishment and even incarceration. Considering that only recently in the 21st century did the British debated about carrying an ID card as an infringement of civil liberty, the same sentiments clearly did not apply to the Africans.


Kipande: the metal container for registration papers
The politics were actually quite depressing, even if one has an open mind about imperialism. Coming from an ex British colony, I had an innate revulsion about colonization: the politicians, the missionaries, the traders, and all those self-important civil servants who perpetuated white supremacy at its worst.

The learning part of the visit came from the section on Circles of Life.
A black & white photo of a native of Turkana.
Note the skin decoration, the equivalent of the modern day tattoo.
A baby carrier
A mask worn by healers to transform
themselves into the spirits of the departed ancestors
The medicinal paraphernalia of a Thakara elder.
The large beehive was used to store the medicine man's items 
Aprons worn by women to cover their private body parts.
Clutch bags they are not.
A circumcision mask worn during the rite of passage ceremony
A Massai warrior outfit
Wristlets
Increasingly with the advent of men wearying jewelry and bracelets, I see the influence of the African tribal art popularized among the metrosexuals. 

I left the Museum in the blazing sun. The dry heat drew home the fact that there is currently a drought in Kenya and according to the "Standard" newspaper there are 1.7 m people in Kenya facing starvation. On the way back to the hotel, the driver told me that he has 3 cows in up country and the drought means that there is no grazing for the animals, forcing him to buy feed.

Saturday, 21 February 2015

Nairobi Series - Nairobi Gallery

Nairobi is a dangerous city - dangerous in the sense that I have been prohibited to walk anywhere on my own for my own safety. Should I risk it? Tempting. Dare I risk it? Probably not. Should I live within the cocoon of the top hotel in this city, where Presidents of African countries come and go with their entourage, within the confines of security gates where vehicles are searched and personal effects X-rayed, and be completely isolated from the daily life of the ordinary people? I have no answer because I don't have the courage to go out and risk it on my own.

Today, I ordered a car to take me to the Nairobi Gallery. It was another opportunity to experience the choking traffic congestion in the city. Often, the traffic simply isn't moving at all. I had the worst of it when it took 1.5 hours to travel less than 20 km. But I was told that I was lucky because the journey could easily have taken up to 3 hours. Patience is a virtue in this country.

The Gallery is a bungalow located near the roundabout of Kenyatta Avenue and Uhuru Highway. If you blink you would have gone past it in all the traffic. The driver certainly did not know the place, and he had to ask when he filled up at the petrol station where this gallery was. He is more used to taking expats like me to the shopping malls.

It houses the collection of African artifacts of the late Joseph Murumbi, once Vice President of Kenya and his wife Sheila Murumbi, a British woman. Murumbi was an avid art collector and the Gallery testifies to the range of his tastes in tribal artifacts collected from all over Africa.


Entrance to the Murumbi Gallery, Nairobi
As this is my first introduction to African artifacts, there was much to learn and absorb, and the young guide who escorted me around the rooms gave a good account of the collections. He was wearing a beaded bracelet of the Kenyan flag: black for his people, white for peace, red for the blood (shed during the independence) and green for the land.


A room reconstructed with furniture from Murumbi's former residence
Here are some of my favorites. The photos don't do the objects justice because I lack the skill to take photos of objects behind glass cases.


A nobleman's ebony chair inlaid with bones and string insets
A collection of African spoons mostly modeled
after the shape of women whose
domain is in the kitchen
A thumb piano that makes beautiful sounds


A Maasai shield made from buffalo hide
A necklace made from wild asparagus shoots


A cloak that completely hides the dancer
(I should have paid attention to its origin)
Head rests used by the Maasai
The Dream by Elkana Ongesa.
Dreaming about the end of apartheid.
The point of 0 km
Sure, the gallery is small and lacking in refinement, and the fee of Ksh 1000 is a bit high, it is a good way for me to see African artifacts first hand.

Afterwards when I was waiting for the car to fetch me, I talked to the young manager of the gallery and a woman who invited me to visit her upcountry mango groves. "Come with me", she said, "You will taste wild mangoes that are so sweet that you will never forget the taste.It's only an hour's drive from Nairobi". She talked about her tribe the Kikuyu: "That's where my home is". The Kenyans are openly inquisitive: where do I come from, why do I have an English accent, what am I doing at Nairobi, do I have children, do I like Kenya, and I find them delightful.