a dozen Kuria ibiaro exist. Most are in Tanzania, four are in Kenya, but only one has its territory completely in Kenya. The three divided by an open international boundary, including Bwirege, have thriving social and economic cross-border exchange, and people can escape from the laws of home by shifting into the other country. So when the laws against female genital cutting were being enforced in Tanzania in 1998, Abairege parents brought their girls to be cut in Kenya. Similarly, if the Umwirege circumciser in Tanzania was operating close to the boundary, Kenyan Abairege did not hesitate to cross into Tanzania to have their candidates undergo initiation.
Some observers of the initiation cancellations were talking about a rift that was increasingly threatening the existence of the secret conclave as a unitary decision-making entity in Bwirege. Though the perceived division had been there for a while and not affected the discharge of duty to the people in the past, it became increasingly clear that the two descent sections comprising Bwirege—Abakehenche and Abarisenye—were conducting their affairs independently.20
Abakehenche are regarded as the “bigger house” and Abarisenye as the “smaller” house. According to custom, Abarisenye are not allowed to conduct any affairs without first consulting Abakehenche. Abakehenche are seen to be on the “right side” where such activities as initiation ceremonies are concerned, and are expected to begin, while Abarisenye are expected to follow. But Abarisenye had been dominant in decision making for this initiation season, prompting the current crisis. So Abakehenche were counseling that initiations be postponed, while Abarisenye wanted to proceed. To make matters even more extraordinary, a third descent group was beginning to act as a corporate entity. Abaseese, with lineages in both Burisenye and in Bokehenche, were beginning to assert independent authority, challenging both the ibisaku widely recognized as legitimate sociopolitical groups of Abairege.21 This crisis of traditional authority was taking place on both sides of the international boundary, in Kenya and in Tanzania. The district commissioner in Kenya was rumored to have ordered chiefs from Bwirege to ensure that the inchaama in Bwirege was not divided, thereby ensuring that the tension between groups did not translate into structural fissioning.
The Uncertainty Continues
Despite the widespread concern about witchcraft that sprang up in late November and early December, people carried on with their preparations for initiations, though quietly. The public pageantry associated with the rituals came to a complete stop. Locally, outbreaks of cattle rustling fanned fears of crime.22 As this type of theft became the focus of public discourse, it became another topic that put people on edge. So did the measures to address it. An iritongo meeting was held near the market to discuss cattle theft. Nyankare was said to be harboring cattle thieves, and the people of the community were asked to disclose the thieves’ names. This was done systematically, with all community members present at the meeting filing past the secretary and telling her either the name of a cattle thief, or that they didn’t know one. The sungusungu, a posse of men, was then empowered to hunt the accused down and beat them until they returned the stolen cattle.23 The people at the meeting were told that the iritongo would meet every week until all the thieves had been found and punished. Two days after the iritongo meeting, a posse of about twenty-five men went charging past our homestead, heading toward the Tanzanian border, arguing and calling out, spreading news of what was happening as they passed. And indeed, women cried out on numerous nights as homes were visited by vigilante justice. The anxiety over witchcraft was augmented by this additional type of fear, that of accusations and vigilante justice.
Circumcisions, nonetheless, remained the primary topic of private conversations, as did the many accounts of witchcraft acts occurring in various places in the location. On December 9, Abanyabasi began circumcising. In Bwirege, at the official Jamhuri Day celebrations on December 12 at the district officer’s camp, the crowd slowly assembled to hear speeches by government officials commemorating the establishment of Kenya as a republic. People seemed resigned to the cancellation of initiations in Bwirege. The rumor of the day was that circumcision would not take place, as this was the day that the first eight—the amanaanai representative of the amakora—were to have been circumcised as a precursor to the community-wide event, but were not. And the reopening of schools was drawing closer, so the time for healing would possibly be inadequate. People speculated that the old circumciser had gone blind, or the youth to be circumcised had refused to be operated on because of his blindness. The rumor seemed confirmed when Mogore Maria, in her role as elected councilor for this area, urged people not to kill their cattle, because in a few weeks’ time they would need to pay school fees.
After her, a wealthy Kuria businessman who usually lived and conducted his activities in Mombasa gave a scathing speech, berating the elders for having called off the initiation season. “We have brought our children from all over Kenya to become abaiseke and abamura within our communities, to become Kuria,” he said.24 He went on to say that the inchaama were joking with people, they’d postponed the operation three times. The people who had brought their children back there for it would have to go back with them uncircumcised. Were the inchaama defeated, leaving everyone to do it in any way they liked? Taking the children to the hospital? If they were circumcised at that time they would only have two weeks to heal. In the past, abasaamba had had six months to recover. Why should the young ones now only have two weeks? “But if the abagaaka don’t allow them to be circumcised according to our tradition, we’ll take them to be circumcised in clinics or hospitals wherever we live.” He articulated most clearly what others were not willing to state openly: the elders had lost their power to order the affairs of the localities in which they had been regarded as the ultimate culturally designated authorities. Many people clearly agreed with his assessment. They were furious at the possibility that circumcisions might not take place. Everyone had prepared food, brewed beer, and come from long distances to be here when their children were initiated, and all that seemed to have been in vain.
Talk of initiation ended with the district officer, a young man from northeastern Kenya. He spoke of esaaro bitterly and disparagingly. “I called a meeting of the iritongo and no councilors came. The leaders only talk, they don’t do anything. And people talk about witches and being bewitched.” Though he had been in the district only two months, he was already seeking a transfer, because he felt he could not work with the people. “In many parts [of the country] they have stopped the primitive methods. But here it is still going on in that way.” What his perspective overlooked, in his equating of the witchcraft beliefs with only superstition, ignorance, and backwardness, was that Kuria he administered were trying to retain their sense of Kuria cultural uniqueness, hence their adherence to tradition as they sought to bolster claims to be given their own administrative district. The role and position of elders in Kuria society, among other things, was being challenged and renegotiated. The elders had not been the leaders in the struggle for the district earlier in the decade. That had been spearheaded by the generation of men who were the sons of the elders, whose children were to be circumcised during this season. So on one level, the struggle embodied in the witchcraft events and rumors was an internal dynamic of a clan (ikiaro) needing to revitalize local boundaries, develop a self-identity, and encourage a self-sustaining future based on local language and values. On another level, the struggle was between various segments of descent groups, vying for seniority and increased power to determine their own agendas with regard to the dynamics of the ikiaro. Within the ikiaro, members of competing ibisaku and amagiha were negotiating their own structural positions. As the public dispersed from the meeting ground, people speculated that some would probably go and have their children circumcised in clinics.
Rumors of witchcraft had succeeded in bringing preparations for an initiation season to a halt. The threats posed by outsiders, whether human or animal, were scrutinized for hidden meanings and indications that supernatural forces would negatively affect the outcome of the initiations and lead to deaths among the initiates. Despite their wide repetition, the rumored incidents remained opaque. But clearly, people of Bwirege were anxious, and locating the cause of uncertainty required teasing out a number of forces, local, national, and international. Locally, uncertainties about group definition raised fears of territorial realignment, consequent expulsion, and homelessness. Further, descent segments of various depths were staking claims for positions of power and authority within the local context. On the national level, insecurities brought on by the economic and political