Nairobi Nagar

Share a Coke with Hezi, Raju, Hamisi, Kevo, Mato, Maiko, Hamed...

Often we find, that travelling is a process of unlearning and relearning several things about the places that we visit. During my time working as a sales representative, I got the chance to visit several corners of the country and the world which I had never seen before. I have been fortunate to have had the chance to see their cultures first hand. However, being the Indologist that I am, my interest often revolves around the Indian diaspora. With every visit to a different part of the world, the diaspora has awed me with its brilliance amidst diversity.

In July 2015, my work required me to travel to Nairobi, Kenya’s economic and political hub. Often, one identifies an international business visit (even a modest one like mine), with western food, monotonous hotels, an alien society and homesickness. Here’s my experience: a Masala Dosa or Upama for breakfast, occasionally a Missal for lunch, Punjabi dishes with warm Phulkas for dinner, weekend excursions where my colleagues took me to the local RSS Shakha, or the colossal ISKON temple, and several work days ending with a hard earned Kulfi ice cream or a Kalkatta Paan. My ears had never heard so much of ‘Kem chho’ or ‘Ki haal tussi’, until I set foot in East Africa.

‘Nairobbery’, as it is dubbed by the western media, is a bustling metropolis with a unique social fabric. The weather is immensely pleasant, as are the people. Soon after I left the airport, the sheer number of Indians there grabbed my attention. With two weeks in the country, hosted by a highly knowledgeable colleague and a wonderful friend, Bhavik Shah, who is also a sixth-generation Kenyan Indian, my visit was nothing less than a roller coaster ride.

The street is full of colorful advertisements like these.

There are several amazing things that I have seen in this country: their natural wealth, the unique tribal composition, their indigenous English dialect being a few. What captivated my attention as always, was the role that the Indian diaspora plays in the country.

Here’s a summary:  

Shah, Singh and Reddy  

Now Indians, the race that we are, have a proclivity to divide ourselves up on societal lines wherever we go, be it caste, religion, region, language, or any reason imaginable. No matter how homogenous our social group may be, we will still find ways and means to classify ourselves. This postulate also applies in the case of Kenya’s Indians, a seemingly uniform group, majority of which are comprised by Gujaratis of the Vaishya caste, along with large communities of Punjabis and Telugu speakers.

The Gujaratis have their own established hierarchy, with the powerful Nizari Shias (the Aga Khan Muslims) at the top of the economic ladder having stakes in every other major economic vertical, and the Aga Khan is known to have raised humongous donations from followers in this country. They are followed by the Oswal Jains who are a close second. The close-knit community, who have always been influential in Subcontinental history, be it financing the British in the Battle of Plassey, to deciding the rules of the game of the modern Indian stock market (Motilal Oswal), have their own Panchayat and a luxurious clubhouse in the heart of Nairobi, where they meet on weekends and festivals. After the Nizari and Oswal, are the Patels, along with other kinds of Gujarati people such as the Vaishnav and the Dawoodi Bohra ruling the roost. The Punjabis also enjoy a lion’s share in the power game here.

And a Chhaganlal Morarji.

A common sight on the street: shops having Indian names. Here's a Bachulal Popatlal.

The Gujaratis and the Punjabis being entrepreneurial in nature, have their muscle rivaled only by the rich and landowning Kikuyu tribe of the country. Such is their might, that when I visited remote Kisumu, a sleepy town of a few hundred thousand people on the banks of Lake Victoria, almost 400 kilometers away from Nairobi, I could only see shops and businesses with names such as Gulabchand, Popatlal, Harilal, along with an equal number of Singh & Co., Singh Brothers, Nanak Enterprises. During the day, the Gujarati and Punjabi communities call the shots in every notable sector of the economy of the country, while in the evening they unwind at the tranquil Nairobi Gymkhana in the plush City Park area of the city. The Nairobi Gymkhana is also, unsurprisingly, the abode of cricket in the country, being the home stadium of Kenya’s national cricket team and hosting several international matches.

After the Gujaratis and Punjabis, the large community of Telugu people also deserves a mention. Making up most of the white-collar workforce in the Gujarati and Punjabi businesses, they act as the managers and skilled labor in these firms, forming their backbone, and enjoy the trust and respect of their bosses. The Marathis, enjoying fame for several decades as able teachers and doctors in the country, are now fast disappearing, with the lone Maharashtra Mandal in the city often wearing a deserted look. The legendary Marathi actor, Dr. Shriram Lagoo, is known to have practiced as a physician for several years in Kenya.

There is a full fledged RSS Shakha, Hindu Sewa Committee, Gurudwara Committee, Indian Muslims organizations belonging the Nizari, the Bohra, etc.

RSS oldies getting older.

Lion Spotting!

Samosa and Paan

On several occasions, my colleague Bhavik had this to add, “Om, Kenya is a microcosm of India, only worse.” For the first few days, I admit that I thought this claim was exaggerated. But soon enough, I realized that this was uncannily true. Diverse tribal groups, a corrupt bureaucracy, opportunistic politicians, and yet a booming economy. Amazingly, the Kenyans have also learnt our ways and means. Samosas have become a staple snack, with the native population taking to it in style. There is a 24 hour Indian radio channel running the latest Indian songs, replete with Indian origin RJs. Two shopping malls selling exclusively Indian goods are always packed.

In spite of what we may think on the mainland, the Indian diaspora here, while having maintained their native Indian traditions, have completely assimilated in the Kenyan society, adding to its prosperity and diversity. In neighboring Uganda, which along with Kenya and Tanzania comprises the Swahili speaking East Africa, it is said, the Indians played an even bigger role. Explains Bhavik, “If that nutcase Idi Amin hadn’t thrown out our people back then, East Africa as a whole would have been one of the fastest developing regions of the world,”  referring to the forceful expulsion of Indians in 1972 by the unruly dictator.

Once while talking to a customer, Bhavik spells his name in the Swahili alphabet, to which the customer, startled, replies, “Ay Baba, your Swahili is better than mine, we rarely pronounce the alphabet right.” Smiling, Bhavik later says to me, “This is home. We belong here.”

Street food #2:
Ugali is the Kenyan staple: a sticky flour pudding.
The whole world gobbles it down in minutes.

Street food #1:
Fried food is a rage. But beware! 
Kenyans can also end up frying their food in motor oil.

                                     











                              

A tale worth telling

Often in life, beautiful things happen to us. One such thing in my life was the Advanced Diploma in Spanish at SPPU, which I attended the past year. Here, I was introduced to several gems of Spanish art, history and literature, which deeply influenced my perspective of looking at the world around me. One of the most striking pieces of prose that I came across was a book of fables called Libro de los exemplos de Conde Lucanor y de Patronio or ‘The Tales of Count Lucanor and Patronio’. This book: a collection of dialogues between a Spanish Count and his loyal advisor, was written by a medieval knight in 14^th century Spain, drawing inspiration from Aesop’s Fables and the Panchatantra, using the plot of several fables in the latter. In the following centuries, a similar style of books found its way into India, the most famous examples being Akbar-Birbal, Tenalirama, etc.

As I was reading the book, one of the fables, adorned with beauty and metaphor, captivated my attention. Such was its charm, that I absolutely had to translate it.

Here is the tale:

“What Happened With The Tree of Falsehood”

Once, the Count spoke with his loyal advisor Patronio:

‘Patronio, I am furious with some men who have disrespected me, who are fraudsters and liars to the extent that they always slander, not just to me, but with anyone who has to parley with them. They phrase their lies such that they feign the truth, thus taking disadvantage of me, while at the same time inciting my people against me.

If I so wish, I too, can cheat them. But, as lying is sin, I have never treaded on that path. By means of your profound knowledge and understanding, I beg you to advise me the way in which I should handle these people.’

‘Respected Count Lucanor’, began Patronio, ‘In order that you do what is best and most advantageous, I would like to recount what once happened between the Truth and Falsehood.’

The Count urged him to begin the story.

‘Count Lucanor’, continued Patronio, ‘The Truth and Falsehood once began to dwell together, and, as time passed, Falsehood, which is restless, suggested to the former that they plant a tree, so that they may enjoy its fruit and its shadow in the future. The Truth, which is innocent and which agrees with little convincing, agreed to the idea.

When the tree was planted and began growing, Falsehood proposed to the Truth that they divide the parts among themselves. The Truth agreed, and Falsehood, with its tricks and schemes, convinced the Truth to choose the part below the ground, for the roots provide life to the plant. The part above the ground, being exposed to the constant danger of humans and the winds, would remain with Falsehood.

The Truth, with its innocence and simple nature, agreed to this proposition, and installed itself below the earth, with the roots that belonged to it.

Now Falsehood, having gotten rid of the Truth, placed itself above the ground with the stem, familiarizing itself with the humans and beings which roamed there. Falsehood, which is always very flattering, won the admiration of the people. Its tree began to grow with thick branches and green leaves, which provided fresh shadow; while blossoming beautiful flowers.

Seeing such a beautiful tree, many people thronged to it, enjoying its shadow and flowers, so much so that several never wanted to apart. While everyone enjoyed its shadow, Falsehood, which is appeasing and patronizing, extended its teachings, and everyone was happily ready to learn them. In such manner, Falsehood crept into their hearts: to some, it taught them to utter simple lies; to others, more subtle yet graver ‘double’ lies, and to the cunning ones, what is known as a ‘triple’ lie.’

Patronio explained, ‘Respected Count, a simple lie is when a person promises something and does not live to his word.

The double lie: when a person makes promises and guarantees, authorizing others to deal on his behalf, and meanwhile thinks of a way to swindle.

The triple lie, which is the most notorious, is when a person lies and cheats, feigning the truth.’

Ahead with the story, Patronio continued, ‘So well did Falsehood know about this and so well did it teach this to everyone who sought refuge under its tree, that all of them became deceitful and fraudulent.

Meanwhile, the Truth, which was lost beneath the earth, and which no one wanted to find, had nothing to feed itself with. It only had the roots which belonged to it, which it gnawed and gobbled up. The tree, with such grand branches and beautiful flowers, had its roots disappeared before it could bear fruit.

One day, with all its roots vanished, and when Falsehood was with all its adherents, there arose a wind and shook the tree. Now, as its roots had already been depleted, the tree of Falsehood fell, and fell such that it killed or deeply injured those who sought refuge under it, including Falsehood itself.

And then, through the gap that been created by the fallen trunk, surfaced the Truth. When it looked around, it saw the fate of the wounded who had followed the path of Falsehood.’

‘Respected Count Lucanor’, added Patronio, ‘Reflect on the fact that Falsehood always has thick branches and its flowers, which are its words and thoughts, are very flattering. There are several who seek them, in spite of the fact that these flowers never bear fruit.

Therefore, although flattery and other tricks of Falsehood would be used by your enemies, as they already have, avoid them as much as you can. Also, do not feel envy for the fortunes which are built by following the path of Falsehood, since these certainly last very little and do not end well.

Although in our times, the Truth is undermined, embrace it, and hold it in high esteem, since only on its path shall you be content, will be truly successful, and would gain the grace and the pardon of God, who garlands us with prosperity in this world, and makes us honorable.’

The Count agreed immensely with this advice, followed its learnings, and succeeded in his endeavors.

And Don Juan, the writer, impressed by this episode, adds it to this book and composes a verse that goes like this:

Say the truth, and from lies escape,
The wrath of destiny the liar will face.