KenyaOnAShoeString: Real Advice for Real Kenyans

When Kenya descended into bloodshed in the wake of the 2007 general election, the world watched in disbelief. Over 1,300 people were killed, hundreds of thousands were displaced, families were shattered, homes torched, and neighbors turned against each other overnight. We called it election violence. But was it? The truth is more uncomfortable than the slogans, the press briefings, or the reconciliatory church prayers we clung to in the aftermath. What happened in 2007/08 was not simply about a stolen vote. It was the cracking open of decades-old wounds — social, economic, tribal, and political — that we, as a country, had consistently refused to face. We blamed the devil. We called for peace. We urged forgiveness — often from the very people who had been violated. But we never stopped to ask: What were we really forgiving? What had we truly understood? The Road to Rupture: Seeds Sown Over Decades To understand the violence of 2007/08, we must step back — far back. Land : At the heart ...

Kenyans have mastered the art of silence. We call it ‘moving on,’ but what we’re really doing is running away—from pain, from history, from accountability. We tell ourselves that forgetting is the same as healing, that ignoring problems makes them disappear. But our silence has a cost, and that cost is becoming unbearable. "Peace isn’t just the absence of war; it’s the presence of justice." Post-Election Violence: The Wound That Never Heals After every election cycle, we hold our breath. We whisper prayers for peace. But peace isn’t just the absence of war; it’s the presence of justice. And justice requires truth. The 2007/2008 post-election violence left more than 1,100 dead and over 600,000 displaced. We never really talked about it. Instead, we got a political handshake, a commission whose report was buried, and a new government that told us to ‘accept and move on.’ The perpetrators walk free. The victims still wait for justice. The same tensions simmer beneath the surface...