The Kenyan elections have prompted hate speech and intimidation, but one group is working across ethnic backgrounds to promote unity

Peter Oloo wiggles his way through the maze ahead of him, easily avoiding hitting, or getting hit by, the dozens of people moving between the narrow streets of Kibera, the largest slum in Kenya’s capital Nairobi. Every few metres he stops, fist-bumping childhood friends or respectfully bowing when shaking hands with older women.

“These were my mothers when growing up,” he says. “Here, we used to look out for each other. Everyone was their brother’s keeper.” Kibera is made up of 13 villages crammed into 2.5 sq kilometres and has an estimated population of 250,000 people. The unemployment rate in Kenya stands at 22%, with most of those being the young, many of whom live in informal settlements such as Kibera. “It is this group of people that is most vulnerable during this political season,” Oloo says. “Everyone lives peacefully here,” says his colleague Eric Mwanzia. “Until the politics start.”

You cannot preach peace to a hungry or angry man. We have to make sure the welfare of our members is well taken care of Peter Oloo

On 8 August, Kenya will hold national elections. In Kibera, promises of employment opportunities and the provision of basic amenities such as reliable and clean water are cited in the manifestos of dozens of politicians seeking to represent the various parts of the slum. But as they sell their policies, they sell something else, too.

“Fear, intimidation, division and tribalism,” Oloo says. “All these make their way back into the day-to-day conversations of Kibera.”

For Mwanzia, who is part of a group called the Shofco Urban Network (SUN), the heightened hate speech and intimidation is all deja vu. “We know where this is heading, we don’t like it. But we know we can play a role to stop it,” Mwanzia says.

Already, Kibera has been declared by Kenya’s security agencies as a hotspot for potential violence in the forthcoming elections. If the violence happens, it will not be new for Oloo and his group.

Ten years ago, a contentious election saw the then incumbent president Mwai Kibaki declared winner of the 2007 presidential elections, an act that led to ethnic clashes across Kenya causing the deaths of more than 1,000 people and the displacement of hundreds of thousands from their homes.

The month-long violence morphed into raw ethnic conflict, pitting mainly Kalenjins and Luos, who supported the opposition Raila Odinga, against Kibaki’s Kikuyu community.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Kenya’s incumbent President Uhuru Kenyatta (R) and his running mate William Ruto (L) joke around during a Sunday church service. Photograph: Dai Kurokawa/EPA

In Kibera, police tried to stop Odinga’s supporters leaving the area, and the protesters attempted to keep officers out. Supporters of Odinga, who had, prior to running for president, represented Kibera area in parliament for 15 years burned cars, barricaded the slum and torched a nearby clothes market.

When the dust finally settled Kibera, like many other parts of the country that had erupted in violence, looked forlorn and was left to wallow in self-pity, counting the cost of loss of lives and livelihoods. “That is why we formed SUN. To make sure we do not go back to where we were,” Mwanzia says.

The group made up of men and women from different ethnic backgrounds visits all the Kibera villages preaching peace, emphasising the importance of the community holding together during the volatile political season. It is not, however, blind to the challenges facing the community.

If our young men get economically empowered, they will have no time to sit idle and be used by the politicians Jasmine Wangui

“You cannot preach peace to a hungry or angry man,” Oloo says. “We have to make sure the welfare of our members is well taken care of.”

On this day, the group is visiting one of their members who lost her husband. Each of the 2,000 group members contributes 20 US cents to a kitty that goes to the widow, translating to $400 that they hope will cushion her as she absorbs the loss of her loved one. Here, almost every family survives on less than $1 a day and getting access to basic amenities is not easy.

But as the eulogies continue, SUN hijacks the day’s programme and changes the conversation into a peace building mission. One by one, the four SUN members talk to those attending the wake about the importance of peace and why the community stands to gain a lot if it stands united.

“All of us here condoning with our sister come from different tribes and backgrounds. Why should we let someone destroy relationships we have built over years just because of an election?” Mwanzia asks dozens seated in the courtyard outside the woman’s house, where women clad in khangas and henna covering their forearms and feet in the predominantly Nubian neighbourhood nod in agreement.

Apart from the four, several other groups are making the same sermon in different parts of the slum, talking about peace and the role each of their members can play to keep it. SUN tries to have weekly townhall meetings within the different villages of Kibera and discuss some of the underlying issues that affect the community.

“We all face the same problems. Disease does not choose certain tribes, neither does unemployment nor poverty. The more we sit together and coalesce around issues affecting all of us the more united we shall be,” Wangui says.

Tension has already reared its head not only in Kibera, but in many other parts of Kenya, too.

“If we manage to keep Kibera calm, the rest of the country will remain calm too,” Oloo says. “If Kibera erupts in violence, the rest of the country will erupt as well.”

At the end of the day, Oloo, Mwanzia and Wangui return to their homes. As members of SUN’s organising committee, they will have to do it all over again the following day. The only difference is that they will not be attending a wake, but visiting one of their members who recently had a baby. “And again, in that happy gathering of friends, we shall continue to preach peace,” Wangui says. Oloo stirs his tea. “I hope people are really listening to us,” he says as he sips his tea before disappearing into his thoughts.