Empowering Nubians: woman fights for community recognition and environmental protection in Kenya
I spent days walking from house to house, knocking on doors, and talking to the people. A sense of distress settled in, seeing our youth languishing without work. I saw women in markets with babies strapped to their backs, surviving on one meal a day.
- 4 months ago
July 22, 2024
Malasen Hamida is a politician and an environmental and human rights defender highly committed to fighting injustice in Kibra as an indigenous Nubian. | Photo courtesy of Masalen Hamida
NAIROBI, Kenya — As a Nubian growing up in Nairobi, Kenya, I often felt like a second-class citizen. In government offices, the staff skipped me in line, unable to find my name in their systems. Like many other Nubians, we lived like foreigners in the country we called home. Lacking proper recognition, our entire community has faced hurdles that cause immense pain.
This lack of recognition of the Nubian people as a legitimate part of Kenya deeply affected all of us. Often, I wondered, where are my people? Why are they not participating. Finally, I made the decision to enter politics and community activism myself to ensure our voice as a minority group was heard. I began to elevate my people in the country’s political landscape.
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Nubian soldiers forcibly taken from Sudan, isolated in Kenya’s largest slum
Over a century ago, during the British colonial era, [the British authorities forcibly transported Nubian soldiers from Sudan to Kenya.] In time, the Nubian people in Kenya settled in Kibra, a neighborhood in what is now Nairobi. [The name Kibra in Nubian means “land of the forest.”]
After the country achieved independence, the British handed the Nubian people over to the Kenyan government, but issues of recognition and absorption soon emerged. Despite the British allocating 4,197 acres of land to the Nubian people, the Kenyan government encroached upon it. [At one point, the Kenyan government labeled the Nubians in Kibra “squatters.” For years, the Nubian community remained unable to access Kenyan citizenship, obtain jobs, had no political voice, and limited access to education.]
As a result, all these years later, I feel devastated seeing my people crammed into shanty-like houses, having lost the land they once owned. [In the shanty town or slum known as Kibra, shacks made of wood and mud house a mixed population in one of Africa’s largest slums. Multiple sources quote a population size ranging from 170,000 to 1.5 million. The true population size remains unknown.]
Over the years, I stood with my people, playing an important role in building the Kenyan society we have today. The Nubians aided the MAU MAU [Kenya’s liberation movement] in gaining independence. Unfortunately, to this day, we grapple with issues of recognition.
Walking alongside my fellow Nubians in their attempt to obtain national registration often left us unsuccessful and disappointed. The few, like me, who have documents, still face the kind of hassles that leave psychological scars and a bleeding heart.
Woman’s advocacy brings recognition and land rights to Kenya’s Nubian community
Much of the original 4,197 acres of land allotted to the Nubian people by the British government was taken from us, leaving only 288 acres. Seeing my community in vulnerable conditions, even now, devastates me every day.
A decade ago, in 2013, some of the Nubian elders and I made the decision to stand up for our rights and secure the title deeds to that acreage. Fear permeated my being as I thought, “What if we lose even this portion of land?” At the government offices in Kenya, we felt the sting of officials delaying or ignoring our paperwork altogether.
In the face of these obstacles we persevered. Four years later, in 2017, we secured the deeds and with it, the security of tenure. The achievement became a significant milestone for the Nubian community. That same year, I contested for the Kibra seat in Parliament.
I focused on addressing the Mazingira [Swahili for environment] through my five-point agenda. We needed to prioritize environmental issues, promote conservation, and improve water and sanitation. I reached the party nomination level but failed to make the ballot. Five years later, in 2022, I tried again, hoping to represent the Nubian community at the national level.
Mazingira Women Initiative: restoring Kibra’s environment and addressing community needs
I spent days walking from house to house, knocking on doors, and talking to the people. A sense of distress settled in, seeing our youth languishing without work. I saw women in markets with babies strapped to their backs, surviving on one meal a day.
My determination grew stronger when I visited homes where entire families endured subhuman conditions, squeezed into one or two rooms. After voting took place, my small community was not enough to win. When the campaign team got the news, I felt hurt – not because of the election itself, but for the thought that my people’s lives would not change.
Yet, my election loss coupled with my political aspirations compelled me forward and I launched the Mazingira Women Initiative. Kibra once stood as a lush, dense forest. Through my conservation and justice organization, we seek to restore Kibra to its lost glory. The people gather to conduct clean-ups, manage solid waste, and recycle.
The Mazingira Women Initiative became responsible for planting 40,000 fruit trees, some of which are indigenous, with a goal to plant half a million trees total. My advocacy and lobbying efforts continue.
At times, these efforts lead to demonstrations where the Nubian people face, head-on, our statelessness. Even confrontations with police do not deter me. I return home, knowing with certainty our cause is justified.
