Susan Taylor Martin
St. Petersburg Times
August 27, 2004

Nairobi, Kenya: Visitors arriving at Nairobi’s international airport are greeted with this sign at passport control: “No bribes should be given or accepted whether demanded or not.”

At police headquarters, a poster in the lobby offers this reminder: “It is your right to be served here – do not give a bribe.”

And red-and-white signs in other public buildings warn: “Stop Being Corrupt.”

No, it doesn’t take long to realize Kenya has a problem with corruption. Almost daily, the nation’s press includes stories of public employees lining their pockets with ill-gotten gains. The latest scandal: A top official is suspected of taking bribes from Qatar and Bahrain to let Kenyan athletes represent those tiny Arab nations in the current Olympics.

“It beats logic that a government minister whose duty includes taking care of, and protecting Kenya’s interests, would turn around and start working for foreigners against his motherland,” bemoaned the East African Standard.

Corruption is so rampant that Britain’s chief representative to Kenya recently accused the government of “devouring money like gluttons.” That followed a decision by the European Union to withhold aid to this scenic but poor country of 32-million because of corruption concerns.

The international opprobrium comes as the Kenyan government insists it is cracking down on official malfeasance. The new Kenya Anti-Corruption Commission has launched a nationwide educational campaign that includes posters, complaint boxes and even calendars exhorting Kenyans to “act together now to end corruption.”

“This is a new kind of thinking that we are encouraging people to do,” says spokeswoman Veronica King’Oina. “It used to be that all people would do was complain among themselves – it was a lack of action that brought us to where we are today.”

Kenya’s corruption problem is rooted in the African tradition of presenting gifts as a token of appreciation. After the country became independent from Britain in 1963, a benign custom turned institutional as unscrupulous individuals began demanding “gifts” in exchange for services.

Proud of their new-found freedom, Kenyans initially turned a blind eye toward the mounting corruption. “It didn’t matter how you acquired your wealth, if you were a rich man you were a hero,” King’Oina says. “Now we want to tell you that if you acquire wealth the wrong way you are a thief.”

In one of the more bizarre cases of alleged corruption, a women’s group tried to postpone last week’s burial of a former Cabinet minister until the whereabouts of $625,000 he helped collect was resolved.

Kenyans also gripe about corrupt police, especially traffic cops who extort bribes from drivers of the matatus, or minibuses, that are the main form of public transportation. The willingness to overlook the matatus’ hair-raising speed and dangerous overcrowding has contributed to one of the world’s highest accident rates.

Since the anticorruption drive began, however, Kenyans have been quicker to report police misconduct and some have even made citizen’s arrests of corrupt cops, King’Oina says. That, along with new speed and passenger limits on the matatus, has helped reduce traffic carnage.

Commission staffers read all complaints – nearly 4,000 were received last year – and turn the files over to the attorney general. There are no figures on how many people have been prosecuted or convicted.

In general, Kenyans have conflicting views of the anticorruption campaign. Some feel the government is serious about cracking down, but many remain skeptical much will change.

Still, the ubiquity of “Stop Corruption” and “Corruption-Free-Zone” signs appears to be having at least some effect.

“What it does is that those who want to get bribes get scared,” King’Oina says, “and those who are asked for bribes get the courage to argue back. That didn’t use to happen before.”