Is domestic violence on the rise in Kenya?

During the week when couples around the world were smiling dreamily into each other’s eyes proclaiming their love for one another, Kenyan men came out in large numbers to decry the severe cases of husband battery.

Should we call it the Nyeri female syndrome, the Central blight or the Kenyan conundrum? Whatever, I just could not resist joining this discussion. All the media reports have got me speculating… The key word here is speculation:

Possibility number 1:There has been a sudden rise in battering of men and a corresponding reduction in battering of women: Spurred on by something… maybe the current financial strain? After all, it is often said that women hold the household together. Have women suddenly discovered that they can release their frustration over inflation and high prices of unga by unleashing terror on their men as a coping mechanism?

Possibility number 2: I cannot help but think about the numerous equality debates that go like this: “Women are physically unable to do what men can do. It is biologically impossible because they are the weaker sex.” Evolution seems to have yielded a breed of men who are beaten up by puny little women without lifting a hand in self-defense.   Or could it be that women are now aided in their one-sided attacks by a fluid substance (read alcohol) that is known to reduce many a strong African male to blissful, passive, non-retaliatory unconsciousness?

Possibility number 3: When you know you are prone to certain hostile forces, you protect yourself.  You think, “He is gonna hit me one of these days, I better get him before he gets me!” Before you know it, you are on national television for husband battery.

Possibility number 4: Maendeleo ya Wanaume have run a successful awareness campaign, maybe boosted by better funding (not from Government) and therefore able to highlight what they couldn’t do before, but which was always there – domestic violence.

Possibility number 5: The crisis of power and people in Kenya today is being mirrored in our homes. I mean, just look at what is going on with the constitution, politics, elections, the law… need I go on? The discussion in the women’s heads could be going like this: What are we doing, where are we going, Who is leading us, When shall we feel at home in our own skin… I don’t know if I shouldn’t just rely on my own damn self!

Most likely possibility: The cases of gender violence have been serious all along for both men and women and the reports have only scratched the surface. It may be that only a small group of men have finally decided that it is better to scream and live than die in silent pride. Many men and women are still suffering silently

Some leaders have warned (a bit gleefully, I think) that the men will continue to get beat upon if they don’t shape up.  Whereas these comments are not responsible considering the gravity of the issue, they just go to show that the ‘war of the sexes’ in Kenya is still on.

Am I finally growing up?

The years are advancing, the time when one is not supposed to say their age out loud is fast approaching, or so I’m told. Oh, I don’t know much about that, but I like the comfort that comes with knowing me a bit longer (sort of like an old friend to myself). In summary, the surface looks like this:

Health: I don’t have a health problem (yet), I love my habits and yes, I know some of them could have lasting consequences. I love them anyway. Sports should balance everything out, and an apple a day. No, I don’t need two litres of water per day. Neither do the people who live in the desert.

Love: Margaret Mitchell said, “I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken — and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.” I seem to be following this trend.

Looks: My more stylish friends are always pointing out what I need to change. It’s dawning on me that some things will remain the same. No, I won’t grow my hair until I really feel like it, I don’t wear little, girly dresses because I don’t know how, and I don’t like heels because I’m already as tall as I’d like to be.  All the same, I am glad to have friends who care.

Profession: I finally figured out what I want to do, digging my heels in and hanging in there. To be honest, I don’t think I will ever grow rich doing what I do. But those are thoughts for my next birthday.

Social life: Not a party animal. Not a social butterfly. Not a super star. Yet solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.

Every year on my birthday, I make grand pronouncements about the future (illusions induced by something other than natural high spirits and augmented by other people’s expectations of me). This year, I think I will break this habit. No resolutions, no grandiose schemes, just a few personal plans to take the future in manageable bits. Mark you, it does not mean that I will stop dreaming.