CHILD ABUSE IS UNIVERSAL

http://www.the-star.co.ke/news/article-98380/child-abuse-universalhttp://www.the-star.co.ke/news/article-98380/child-abuse-universal

Ataturk Lives!

In Russia the Tsar was always referred to lovingly as Little Father; here in Turkey,  Ataturk’s presence is writ large. He attracts a different kind of worship. Each year on November 10^th, the  anniversary of his death in 1938 at 9.05, the moment he last drew breath, a siren sounds and the country collectively comes to halt for a minute. Cars hoot and drivers stand to attention.  In that gorgeous wedding cake of architecture, the Dolmabahce Palace, the clock in the room where he breathed his last is permanently frozen at that precise minute. It doesn’t stop there, of course; Turks love any excuse to bring out their brilliant red star- and-crescent  flag adorned with the image of the father, his head tilted upwards, his eyes gazing into the distance as if dreaming of great things to come.

Istanbul has some of the world’s biggest and finest shopping malls; on a day such as this, even they pay tribute to the great white father. In Akmerkez, a gleaming modern version of Topkapi Palace, a sacred non-commercial space has been cleared for the occasion showing portraits of the man while  a band plays his favourite tunes. Bookshops display the many biographies of him, and lit-up panels carry quotations from his writings. Shopaholics take a breath in between Versace and Vakko to pay homage to a man who has never really departed. He is everywhere. Even in private homes you will see photos of him posing like Napoleon with right hand in jacket or dancing with one of his daughters.

Thus the name Sabiha Gokhcen might not be given two seconds’ thought by visitors to Istanbul’s second international airport but it is worth more than that. The lithe young woman pictured in large black and white photographs was one of his eight adopted daughters  - possibly the favourite - and the first female combat pilot in the world. Like father like daughter. She had no fear of flying. I can’t help thinking of the Greek goddess Athene springing fully born out of the head of Zeus. Ataturk was briefly married to  Latife Uşaklıgil to whom he proposed in company with his fellow soldiers. That was the custom back then. Though it was a childless marriage, he went on to adopt several children who came his way and appealed to him. Perhaps Sabiha was his favourite because she followed in his footsteps and lived up to his name.

It was in his latter years that he fell in love with children; by then perhaps he had tired of wars an late-night political jaw-jaws.  Sabiha Gokcen was 12 when she encountered Ataturk at a public parade. She stepped forth boldly and asked him to assist her with school fees. He gladly obliged.

Later when she had become a pilot, he tested her loyalty to him. She would have to hold a loaded gun to her head and prove her love (shades of King Lear.) She did, unflinchingly. She survived because the gun wasn’t loaded.

Who was the real man as opposed to the saint? He died at the age of 57 of cirrhosis of the liver. Flouting his secular version of Islam, he once called out drunkenly from a boat on the Bosphorus, “This is raki! That’s what we drink.”

Young people are brought up to worship him. A girl in my class who has never spoken before waxes lyrical. “He was such a great man. He saved the country!” “From what?” I ask. She blushes, unsure how to answer. “And what about his alcoholism?” They  all look at me blankly. “What has that got to do with it?” They do not want their hero besmirched especially by a foreigner. This is unnecessary, this disinterment of his graven image and at such a time too.

They have been sold a story which they won’t question. Certain things are sacred even to freshmen at the “Harvard of Turkey.”  No modern leader has been able to match him. None would dare to try. The Prime Minister makes hurried excuses and misses the celebrations.

As worries of creeping Islamicisation abound, Ataturk -lovers cling to his revolutionary changes: the freedom he gave to women who were among the first to vote, the secularism, the changing of the alphabet and modernising of the language now peppered  with words borrowed from French which the great man loved. What a relief! A few words a foreigner can grasp: reservasyon, pardon, kuofer (coiffeur.) All spelled phonetically to boot. In college the increasing number of girls with headscarves worries them. They see conspiracies everywhere. There are whisperings that the great American devil is planning a new caliphate for Turkey so that the region can be secure under his control. “Haven’t you noticed? More religious students are being given places on campus.” The  changes that the great man symbolised are being eaten away.

816 words

betty.caplan1@gmail.com

The Power of Speech

http://www.the-star.co.ke/news/article-92380/mutula-kilonzos-team-should-consider-minimally-invasive-education

A Small Act - a tribute to Hilde Back

 A SMALL ACT – a documentary by Jennifer Arnold

Some tragic events have surprising outcomes. During the Second World War, a German Jewish woman called Hilde Back lost both parents and was saved by someone who took her to Sweden where she was eventually granted citizenship. Survivors sometimes experience feelings of guilt and trauma throughout their lives; Hilde Back was different. If she did have those emotions, she turned them to a good cause. Feeling grateful to be alive and to have been saved, her thanks was to regularly put $15 in an envelope and send it to one Chris Mburu who lived in a village in the Rift Valley. Little did she know how far her small act of kindness would go.

The film of this story has recent been released by HBO and illustrates the way a documentary can initiate world -wide change; I happened to catch it on television in Australia and was heartened to see something so inspiring and positive about Africa amidst all the usual rubbish about gangsters and drug addicts. Jennifer Arnold, the film’s director  studied at the University of Nairobi with Chris Mburu’s cousin which is how she came across the story of Hilde Back and her part in his life. After finishing school, he graduated from Harvard Law School and became a leading light at UNESCO. What goes around comes around. He decided that he would pay back the “small gift” which had changed his life, and together with Hilde Back set up a fund which would assist poor and needy children to go to school. Now tiny and in her eighties, she is invited to Kenya and made a Kikuyu elder. All dressed up in her shuka, she joins in the dancing with elation. But her greatest affection is for Chris, a substitute for the children she did not have. If only all those women cast off as “barren” would see other needy children as worthy of care in this way!

The film was shot at an awkward moment: Chris has set up the scholarship fund and we follow several children who are hoping to qualify. But there is stiff competition, of course. The children are told that the cut-off point for success will be 380 marks. There is great tension and anxiety as they go about studying under extremely difficult circumstances. There is precious little light to pore over books at night. The schoolrooms are bare and uninviting especially during the rainy season when everything is covered in mud. Books are in short supply. A harshness pervades the atmosphere: children who lack the money to go to secondary school are teased and laughed at. Puzzled mothers in their headscarves struggle to understand. The headmaster is blunt. Chris, who narrates much of the film, has to be realistic. “We can’t help everyone who needs it,” he says.

It is around January 2008. In the middle of all the preparations for the scholarship award, the post-election violence breaks out all around them. In addition to their fears for their future education, these children are worried about just staying alive. But Kimani, Ruth and Caroline succeed after the panel of judges has lowered the cut-off point. They whisper amongst themselves: is this the right thing to do? Why have the children performed so poorly? Should they give special consideration to the girls who have a harder time in school? Why indeed. Education can’t take place in a vacuum: it needs the support of the state, the parents and the community at large. Forgive me if I repeat the truism that school is a microcosm of society.

It premieres in Toronto where it is one of the favourites and goes on to win awards at the Sundance and many other festivals. Bill Gates and George Soros attend a performance and decide to chip in and assist the foundation. In April of this year, Arnold returns to premiere the film in the village where it is shot. There is great jubilation and joy.

Three children who are successful have been followed on the website: Kimani now attends a private school owned by a board member of the foundation and plans to become a neuro-surgeon. Ruth is in one of the top secondary schools in Kenya and wishes to be a lawyer whilst Caroline is in her third year and wants to combine modelling with lecturing at the university. But what of those left behind? Jennifer Arnold needs to come back and make a film about them. It is hard to watch the bitter tears of those who have not made the grade and are destined to have lives of drudgery and penury. But there is no room for self-pity here: one of the movie’s best qualities is to show how these people don’t complain, but just get on with it. After all, as a friend of mine pointed out when I first became enraged in Africa, you have to have someone to complain to! Their desire is to better themselves and to please their parents so that they can build decent houses and make a contribution to society.

Why in the 21^st century should such children be at the mercy of charity? Why should there be enough money to pay bloated politicians and not a penny for these children many of whom might, given the chance, become world leaders like Chris Mburu who works to prevent genocide? While private funds help a lucky few, the powers-that-be can sit back and watch while the huge majority goes to waste.

917 words

betty.caplan1@gmail.com

A response to the Zuma controversy

"Expression Today offers a commentary on the recent fuss about the Zuma 'exposure.' It turns out that many black South African artists and cartoonists have expressed the same views, but have not been given the same publicity due to the largely white ownership of galleries.


http://eastafricapress.net/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=691:the-limits-of-artistic-freedom&catid=151:free-speechwww.http://eastafricapress.net/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=691:the-limits-of-artistic-freedom&catid=151:free-speech

The History of the Nandi Hills in Kenya is full of intrigue and fascination.


http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/magazine/the+tangled+rich+history+of+the+Nandi+Hills++/-/434746/1454076/-/71kscq/-/index.html

There's nothing like a death in the family to bring out old tensions and hostilities



http://www.the-star.co.ke/lifestyle/128-lifestyle/83659-where-theres-a-will-theres-a-way

Museum of Islamic Art, Doha

The Museum of Islamic Art designed by I M Pei is worth visiting Doha for. Every aspect of the museum is magnificent, as the architect had freedom to do as he liked. The best thing is you have it to yourself as there are very few visitors!

http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/magazine/-/434746/835068/-/14inqfsz/-/

Nairobi- Best Clubbing in the World

Nairobi is known for poverty robbery and Kibera. But only those who have explored the city at night know what fun can be had.




http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/may/12/kenya-kenya

Literature colonial and post colonial

http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/magazine/-/434746/1064372/-/121max1z/-/index.html

Girls must learn to say NO.

A reply to the Star's columnist Caroline Mutoko arguing that girls and women must take responsibility in the bedroom - they can't afford to leave it to men



http://www.the-star.co.ke/opinions/others/81140-why-girls-must-learn-to-say-no

Zuma takes offence at his portrait

South Africa's President Jacob Zuma is offended by a painting which reveals his genitals. Reactions are divided between those who believe the office of president should be respected regardless of the holder, and those who believe Zuma has only got what he deserved.



http://www.the-star.co.ke/lifestyle/128-lifestyle/77342-zuma-cartoon-controversy-teacup-in-a-storm

Museum of Islamic Art Doha

One of the finest modern museums in the world, designed by I M Pei, worth visiting Doha for.

http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/magazine/-/434746/835068/-/14inqfsz/-/

TED talks in Nairobi

TED comes to Nairobi
http://mobile.theeastafrican.co.ke/Magazine/+Energy+toilets+meet+ideas+worth+spreading+at+TED+Nairobi/-/433852/1403958/-/format/xhtml/-/95biix/-/index.html

Cities are for People, not Cars!

Traffic has come to dominate peoples' lives in Nairobi. Brand new superhighways aren't helping. Isn't it time to think about public transport rather than the gas guzzlers that hog our roads?



http://www.the-star.co.ke/lifestyle/128-lifestyle/74684-a-city-for-people-not-cars

Female Stereotypes - Who Creates Them?

http://www.the-star.co.ke/lifestyle/letter-from-oz-/72879-who-creates-female-stereotypes

WANJIKU REBORN

An interesting look at the iconic figure of Wanjiku in an exhibition at the Alliance Francaise, Nairobi



http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/magazine/Wanjiku+gets+a+makeover++/-/434746/1381410/-/nnlh35/-/index.html

Venus and Adonis- book of essays

Th LIFESTYLE LETTER FROM ISTANBUL THE FAMILY UNDER SIEGE The Family Under Siege WEDNESDAY, 08 FEBRUARY 2012 15:48 BY BETTY CAPLAN One can easily become dewy-eyed here in Istanbul imagining that families have stayed close because of bonds of affection. The truth is often different: young people stay at home until they get married because they can’t afford to move out. Read this: “There are 17.5 million households in Turkey. The average size of a household is 4.2 people. It is significant that in France, which has about the same population, there are 25 million households. The fact that there are so few households in Turkey has a negative impact on consumption.” Levent Erden, Board Chairman of EURO RSCG Istanbul, believes that the reason that the number of households in Turkey is low is that in Turkey people do not move to their own houses when they reach a certain age which has a negative impact on consumption and many sectors. Indeed, Erden notes that only six million of these households have a reasonable income. In fact, the statistics support Erden’s opinion. According to data from the Turkish Statistical Institute, 45 per cent of the 17.5 million households in Turkey have an income of over YTL 1,000 per month ($US 571). Only 15 percent have an income of more than YTL 2,000.” Eminë (not her real name) has, like many others, joined an organisation for expatriates called “InterNations.” She is beautiful, 35 and single. There is a sad look in her eyes. But she is Turkish. Why would she want to mix with foreigners, many of whom don’t have a long-term commitment to the country? (Like Kenya, Turkey has its fair share of “two year wonders.” ) We wait together at the bus stop after a long outing and chat. Eventually I can’t help asking her about marriage. A writer is always minding everyone else’s business. She sighs. I notice that she doesn’t smile at all. “I was going to marry someone but we broke it off.” How? Why? She looks wistful. “We had been going together for more than a year and wanted to get married, but my mother didn’t trust him. She set out to find out about his background without telling me anything. He had been divorced, which we knew. My mother contacted his ex-wife and eventually discovered that there was another woman who was after him. He had been having an affair with her for some time. He had borrowed money from all of us.” Why would he borrow money from her? Salaries are not that great in Turkey as you can see, and like her, he was a graduate. She even took out a loan for him as he was unable to. Like private detectives her parents beavered away and when the time was right sprung the bad news on her. She was understandably shocked. She confronted him with the accusation that he had been unfaithful and after initial resistance, he admitted to it. She broke off the engagement immediately and has not seen anyone else for a year. “I don’t think I could ever love anyone else like that. Or trust a man ever again,” she said. So now she is living with her parents who never mention marriage. But she wants to go abroad. She needs to break away and make a life for herself but while she is working in Istanbul, it would be unheard of to live alone. Besides, she can’t afford it. Turkish parents encourage their children to stay at home; they mollycoddle them and make it hard for them to leave. And then there is the religious taboo against pre-marital sex which is applied more to the girls than the boys. Professional people tend to retire early and then want their children to fill the yawning hole in their lives. The children are conditioned to accept this but more and more are finding it a strain. Men look hungrily for women who are young enough to make babies; many marry foreign partners and then discover that there are irreconcilable differences due to the culture gap. A Polish woman is on the same outing accompanied by her 20- something daughter. They are like best friends. “I’m trying to find Mr Perfect for my mother,” she says. She is completing a Masters in Clinical Psychology. The mother is bitter. “Yes, Turkish men put on a show of loving their children but it doesn’t mean anything,” she said. She had put up with 20 years of misery just for the sake of the children but had finally gotten a divorce. “All he did was work, come home late and kiss the children good night.” But working hours here are inordinately long, and there are few government regulations regarding health and safety to protect workers. Men might well argue that they have little choice. Turkey is industrialising fast; huge swathes of land which were formerly farmed are now covered in ugly factories and pylons as the country produces petro-chemicals and their valuable by-products at far lower rates than in Europe. Eminë has applied for jobs abroad and has had some interviews. She is a well-qualified and experienced pharmacist but her conversational English is poor. As we are neighbours I offer to help. Soon she will be earning a first-world wage and find a life elsewhere. Too bad for her parents – and for the country.

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Two New Museums in Nairobi

STATE OF THE ART Two important cultural institutions (the National Museum and the Ramoma Gallery) have reopened in the past few months with little pomp, circumstance or media attention partly, perhaps, because of being overshadowed by the election fiasco and the endless warnings of doom that preceded it. But it seems that serious discussion of the arts has been anyway overtaken by politics to such an extent that only John Kariuki in this paper took the trouble to point out that no provision for it had been made in the last budget – a foolishly short-sighted calculation since if wisely handled the arts can make big money. Take this example: on a recent visit to Australia I was astonished at the status that Aboriginal art had achieved in the space of a mere three decades. All major towns and cities boast fine art galleries, the pride of which is Aboriginal art because it is so utterly distinctive and original has perhaps become a way of paying retribution for the dreadful past. Like so many of their African counterparts, most of these artists have never been near an art school – a benefit in their cases because it has enabled them to avoid the trap of copying European styles of painting and sculpture. “But this is a Third World country! There is no money for such luxuries,” you might argue.This is patent nonsense, since one thing that characterizes such countries is the massive wealth controlled by very few hands. Contemporary art in Kenya has been flourishing in the past few years, not because of but in spite of government indifference. Hands up those MP’s who have bought a single work? How many rich businessmen would even contemplate such a thing? Some are beginning to catch on – the new Safaricom House is filled with commissioned paintings by Kenyans and the Java House Coffee Shops are inviting not least because of their art displays. But does President Kibaki have fine sculptures at State House? Not when I’ve had a glimpse of it via my TV screen. How many artists has the billionaire Kenyatta family supported? What do you put it down to – lack of education? Some members of our elite have been to the best universities in the world but what they have come away with seems to be a thorough training in how to rip the country off. To return to my original subject: the museum has re-opened at a time of great turmoil in this country: there is heated discussion everywhere about the meaning of heritage, tribe, history, ethnicity. Problems surrounding the totally foreign idea of a museum are explored at great length and depth by Professor Ali Mazrui in “Kenya Past and Present” Issue No 35 2005, a scholarly publication of the Kenya Museum Society. Here is the crux: “Because of the oral tradition, African history is particularly prone to the forces of myth-making and legend-building. Tribal founders like Kintu of the Baganda or Mumbi of the Kikuyu are often elevated to the status of historical figures. Museums often have to preserve the physical documentation of cultural beliefs – without taking sides between mythology and history.” Mazrui goes on to point out “the comparative weakness of the archival tradition in Africa and its devastating consequences for the history of our people.” One might also add the fact that Africans were largely the subjects of conquering nations like the British, the French and the Portuguese who looted the finest works of art freely and whose own museums would now be empty without such treasures as the Benin Bronzes or the much-fought-over Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon in Athens, kindly held in trust for the Greek people indefinitely despite their regular protests. Take these away from the British Museum and all you have left of local origin are some exquisite ivory carvings of chess figures (and where did the ivory come from, say?) or the Sutton Hoo collection of Anglo-Saxon objects found in the shipwreck of the above vessel. Not enough to draw crowds from near and far, you’ll agree. Mazrui bemoans the lack of an archival tradition which he defines as “a cultural preoccupation with keeping records and preserving monuments, a tradition of capturing the past through preserved documentation…….Because the archival tradition is weak in Africa, the scientific tradition became weak, our languages atrophied and so did any philosophical tradition – with ghastly consequences for our peoples across the centuries. ” This deficit has led people to assume that Africa was a continent without history. Mazrui even intimates that slavery and colonialism were closely linked to this perceived lack of culture and recorded memory. But then bible-wielding colonialists of every hue have arrogantly taken it upon themselves to “educate the heathen” and to bring them up to their own standards, never questioning the moral or ethical implications of their actions. Civilisations that valued concrete remains or written records did not appreciate Africa. Mazrui speaks about the false memory that Africa was one before colonization, but he reminds that it need not be a false hope. “Museums all over Africa are likely to be called upon to re-inforce Africa’s false memory that it was once united before European colonization”. Not all the galleries have opened yet, but there is enough to be getting on with, what with several fascinating temporary exhibitions – Rock Art, photographs by various different photographers, and in the Creativity Gallery, contemporary art by lesser-known artists. The building is light, airy and inviting, with pillars and mosaics at the front opening out onto a courtyard which houses shops and a café looking out onto a mass of trees. The weakest room is the Hall of Kenya which only represents a few objects from major tribes – the Luo, the Maasai, plus a beautifully wrought “Siyu” from Pate Island off the Lamu Coast. The most successful for me is the “Cradle of Mankind” displaying some of the museum’s favored paleontological objects, and raising interesting questions for religious believers about the origins of mankind. Turkana Boy is there in all his splendour, looking slightly blue with age, but giving you an excellent idea of the size of the child.

The Family Under Siege- Letter from Istanbul

Museum of Islamic Art, Doha

 

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