Kenya: Our Two Types of Race

Don’t worry, as usual this is coming from somewhere deep inside… The other day at the mall I witnessed an atrocious display of sheer nonsense and immaturity. An elderly lady was yelling at the top of her voice at an attendant. At first, of course, I dismissed it as one of the usual complaints that we all have about customer service. But then again she kept on shouting and that drew our attention.

And the bottles came crashing. One by one, she threw them on the ground relishing as each shattered. Never mind that there were other customers and children in the way. She was determined to show us this isn’t how things are done. A whole crate and a lot of customer complaints later, she is gently led away by security.

What is wrong with this picture? Well, the lady was white. I see you nodding your head in understanding. See, in Kenya, you can get away with some things because of your race and skin colour. See if you are not white, you are yellow. Therefore the gods made you blameless and people will fawn over you regardless of your childish behaviour. On the other side of the spectrum lies the black and the black. Unfortunately either Vogue or the Brits won because either way, our minds are bogged down with colonial precepts like superiority based on skin colour.

The other race she belonged to is called Upper Class. See she has money. And here having money is your key to getting away with anything. In fact, I think it is superior to the colour race because rich black people in all walks of life get away with anything. So if you want a race to belong to, I’d suggest you pick that one because everyone has a price in Kenya.

This whole incident reminded me of being in a jacuzzi in a premier hotel in Mombasa and the attendant decided to politely ask us to excuse the white couple who didn’t want to associate with us…until the money card was pulled and it turns out my host’s account was more superior.

Or the many times you get served last and less preferentially because the waitresses know you don’t hold a visa to get them out of here nor will you tip in foreign currency. Because she looks at you and cannot imagine how you could possibly help her produce the curly haired, blue eyed offspring she sees in magazines. So no. You Mister, will have to wait.

See the thing we don’t realize is, just by virtue of being black, please google the one drop test, you are automatically inferior in their countries. That said, your treatment for throwing bottles on a supermarket floor might land you a stint in jail or have your papers revoked. Heck! You might even be a terrorist. You will not be whisked away politely and who knows what the local headlines might say about you that day?

Nobody cares if your ancestor was Shaka Zulu and understandably you inherited the temper. Nobody cares that you actually had a right to be frustrated. Or that maybe you are just a little black and in your town you are the whitest thing they have ever seen.

But come to Kenya, and if you are a member of these two races, congratulations. We shall forgive your misdeeds.

Have a lovely week. And of course, don’t forget to follow.