increased in Meru after the ban, and girls went to the bush to circumcise each other (347).
The Kenyan government began its involvement in the controversy in 1982, following the deaths of fourteen girls as a result of genital cutting. President Moi issued a statement condemning the practice and ordered that murder charges be brought against practitioners who carried out genital cuttings that resulted in death. This order was followed by another, forbidding medical personnel to carry out the operation without the specific permission of the office of the Director of Medical Services. In 1989, he again called for an end to the practice, and, six months later, an official ban was announced (Rahman and Toubia 2000, 177). A motion to make female circumcision illegal in Kenya was defeated in parliament in 1996 (Ntarangwi 2005; Rahman and Toubia 2000, 176), but the practice was made illegal by governmental decree in 1999 (Oboler 2001, 312). The National Plan of Action for the Elimination of Female Genital Mutilation in Kenya emphasized education and outreach over criminal prosecution (Ministry of Health 1999; Rahman and Toubia 2000, 177). Yet, two years later, Parliament recognized that education alone was not enough and included prosecution under the Children Act of 2001 prohibiting anyone from carrying out FGM on a female under eighteen years of age (United Nations 2002; Mwaura 2004). The passage of a law once again proved ineffective in stopping the practice as the gap between law and the social system still needed to be bridged. For that to happen, as Mwaura contends, the communities in which female genital cutting was practiced needed to be involved in implementing the law.
Throughout the 1990s, opponents of FGM launched numerous campaigns in Kenya to end the practice. The opposition had been gathering steam since the early 1990s. Kenyan government, international development agencies, the United Nations, international and national women’s organizations, and professional associations all developed policies condemning the practice of FGM. This condemnation was articulated most forcefully at the International Conference on Population and Development (Cairo, 1994) and the Fourth World Conference on Women (Beijing, 1995), where FGM was labeled a harmful traditional practice affecting women and targeted for elimination (Kenya Ministry of Health 1999, 7). But significant awareness, interest, and commitment to fight FGM in all its forms did not translate into tangible or effective projects at the community level.
By the end of the 1990s, several international development agencies were increasing support and vocalizing their stand on “this sensitive issue,” according to the authors of the National Plan of Action for the Elimination of Female Genital Mutilation in Kenya (Ministry of Health, 1999, 7). They argued that “with these types of movements, continued and future FGM programs in Kenya can succeed using financial and technical support and an approach that empowers the local communities, especially the affected Kenyan women and girls, to take a stand against FGM” (7). Kenya’s campaign against FGM was centered in the adoption/ratification of various plans of action viewing FGM as a violation of human rights against women and girls and a threat to women’s reproductive health (9–11). The action plan spelled out objectives to reduce the proportion of girls and women who undergo any type of FGM; to increase the proportion of communities supporting the elimination of FGM through positive changes in attitudes, beliefs, behaviors, and practices; to increase the number of health-care facilities that provide care, counseling, and support to girls and women with physical and psychological problems associated with FGM; and to increase the technical and advocacy capacity of organizations and communities involved in FGM elimination programs (12). This plan was to be implemented in collaboration with partners.
At the end of 2001, Kenya passed the Children Act which made FGM illegal for girls under the age of eighteen. This included potential penalties under Kenyan law for anyone subjecting a child to FGM, including one year’s imprisonment and a fine of up to KShs. 50,000. Few cases of successful legal action against perpetrators of FGM have been reported, and the law has come under widespread criticism for being ineffective and poorly implemented, and for failing to curb FGM (Oloo, Wanjiru, and Newell-Jones 2011, 9).
In the first decade of the new millennium, many nongovernmental and community-based organizations actively participated in the effort to eliminate FGM. For example, No Peace without Justice—an NGO campaigning for the advancement of human rights, democracy, the rule of law, and international justice—reported in early 2003 that five NGOs had formed a joint network, an anti-FGM front in Rift Valley, to “crusad[e] against female genital mutilation . . . to boost the war against the rite in the region” (Standard 2003). The network included World Vision, Shelter Yetu, Centre for Human Rights and Democracy, and Maendeleo Ya Wanawake, and their efforts were to be coordinated by Nairobi-based National Focal Point (Ibid.). The NGOs’ language largely reflected their orientation rather than the voices of the people whose communities were targeted for this war. In some practicing communities in various parts of Kenya, NGO activities strove to offer alternatives to FGM. Eradication strategies included information and education campaigns, initially focused on making known the health risks entailed in genital operations, and on sensitizing key members—leaders, elders, and teachers—in practicing communities. Next, alternative rituals were introduced in a number of communities. Some NGOs focused on changing legislation. Building on the momentum of the 1999 National Plan of Action and 2001 Children Act, many domestic and international organizations launched a plethora of initiatives, which are given more context in chapter 7.
Kuria and Bukuria
Kuria people live in the rolling hills of southwestern Kenya and northwestern Tanzania. They make their living as small-scale farmers, cattle keepers, and petty entrepreneurs, remote from the centers of power and development in both nation-states in which they live. The name Abakuria refers to a Bantu-language-speaking people living east of Lake Victoria, largely between the Migori and Mara rivers. The term Kuria does not describe a traditional political group with clearly defined territorial or group boundaries, but rather a people who have a common cultural and linguistic identity. Cultural and linguistic features shared between Kuria and other groups indicate a past rich with interactions over centuries of migrations. These shared features can make drawing sharp distinctions between Kuria and non-Kuria difficult. Colonially induced cessation of movement left Kuria with Luo and Maasai neighbors to the west and east respectively, Gusii and Luo to the north, and Ikoma, Ngoreme, Naata, Isenye, Igishu, Chizaki (Ruel 1959, 2), and Zanaki (Bischofberger 1972) to the south. Perhaps this history of intermingling is responsible for the prominence of a cultural repertoire offering grounds for establishing/proving cultural identity.
After independence, Kuria were a minority ethnic group in South Nyanza, a district dominated by Luo people. Then Kuria lands became a new, separate district following the 1992 election when Kuria people gave their political support to the dominant party at the time. Kuria leaders saw this as a major accomplishment and gain. Following the 2007 election, the district was split in two, gaining Kuria people further administrative structure with accompanying funds—a fairly remarkable feat for a population of about two hundred thousand people.17 The potential gain of influence in parliamentary politics was curtailed in the new constitution of 2010, which subsumed both the districts of Kuria East and Kuria West districts into constituencies of Migori County. The two districts then contained four clans (ibiaro), which were the administrative locations of the postcolonial era. This political reorganization administratively separated Kuria from the Luo-speaking majority in South Nyanza and Migori districts, and brought in resources as well as employment opportunities within the several levels of the newly created administrative structure.18 But lack of qualified candidates, particularly experienced ones, to fill many of these positions ensured that they were filled by non-Kuria workers. The presence of professionals from other parts of Kenya, as well as growing interest on the part of NGOs (particularly those concerned with “the girl child,” with the eradication of FGM, and/or with HIV/AIDS) reflect Kuria’s growing ties to the national and international scene.
Kuria life is rich in traditions and has historically centered on a ritual cycle that individuals and the community undergo. They speak of themselves as “doers of ritual” (abakora nyangi), and compare themselves according to this criterion with other peoples having or not having a similar ritual complex (Ruel 1965, 298). The ritual cycle is a central institution that regulates the rhythm of individual as well as communal life and is crucial to Abakuria self-identification as a people. Genital cutting is