Out of Africa

Out of Africa, by Karen Blixen is a lovely biography of colonial Kenya, full of dense language and beautiful descriptions of the country and its people. Blixen, seeing the country through colonialist eyes and also in retrospect from her native Denmark, saw a nobility in the natives, that is not apparent to me. I see their poverty and their desperation as well as a dismal future.

Today, we went to Nairobi. We left the matatu and walked downtown. Soon we were met by a man claiming to be from Zimbabwe, whose family, he claimed, had not eaten for days. Perhaps we could buy him a bag of rice. We have heard the same pitch, in the same words, on almost every trip to the city. We are quite sure it is a con and we carry on. A short time later we were approached by a man selling bracelets. When we declined he begged for something small from us. Later we passed a man with no legs, whom we meet begging each time we take a certain street. We generally give him some small amount. A short time later we brush off a man who starts into the same pitch as the alleged Zimbabwian. Later in the day, after returning home, a Kenyan worker at our school asked if I could give him 50Ksh (the equivalent of about 90 cents). Imagine having to ask for that amount! And still later another person we hardly know asked to borrow $15.00.

These things are nothing. Just reminders during the day of the poverty here, and as if that were not enough the papers are full of accounts of violence, abuse of women and children, corruption, hatred, gross moral misconduct - and I wonder sometimes if, during the short time we have been here, we have accomplished anything that will have long lasting significance.

Near the end of her book, as she is preparing to leave for Denmark, Blixen goes for a walk on the farm. She is looking for a sign, something that will help her to understand what has been the meaning of her life in the country. She meets a rooster from the farm out on its own morning stroll. It in turn comes face to face with a chameleon, also out for a morning walk. Since roosters eat chameleons, there is a confrontation between the two.

…(the cock) gave out a cluck of satisfaction. The chameleon stopped dead at the sight of the cock. He was frightened, but he was at the same time very brave, he planted his feet on the ground, opened his mouth as wide as he possibly could, and to scare his enemy, in a flash he shot out his club-shaped tongue at the cock. The cock stood for a second as if taken aback, then swiftly and determinately he struck down his beak like a hammer and plucked out the chameleon’s tongue.

At that, Blixen chased off the cock and killed the chameleon, since it could no longer catch food to eat and so would have slowly starved to death. She was glad to have saved the chameleon from a slow, painful death but the encounter frightened her and reminded her of the dangerous world she had lived in.

Later, on reflection about the incident, she found in the encounter, the sign she was looking for. Although in the end they were too much for her, she had battled the powers. That was all, but that was enough.

The cock and the chameleon were for me an illustration of what still happens in Kenya. The weak are eaten up by the strong. Perhaps it is that way in all the world but in our civilized country we don’t see it as starkly. What is the answer for this country? Have we made a difference in such a place as this? There is no answer for me, except perhaps this: that we too have battled the powers as best we were able during our short time here.