Mob Justice

11/20/05

Kisii. 8pm or so, waiting for the bus to Kampala.

I asked to use the bathroom (and was informed that they had a 'toilet only'), which I knew from prior experience to be down a dark alley in a disgusting courtyard, where the dirt bled sewage. I was given a key and walked myself back there, lugging my camera bag. I found the 'bathroom' and took a piss. I left, and as I was locking the door, I heard a sudden commotion in the yard. Its nearly pitch black back there, so when I turned the corner all I could see was bodies in motion, a group, maybe a dozen guys, raining blows on someone, or something, in between them. I figured that I might get myself into trouble if I stayed to watch, so I walked out of the courtyard, back through the alley, and into the Akamba waiting room. But after I had turned in the key, the askari came in, a bit frantic, and started rummaging through a cardboard tube. He pulled out a lead pipe and a length of rope, and rushed back out. Now my curiosity got the best of me, and I followed him back down the dim alley into the dark courtyard, where a small crowd had formed to watch the six beating the one. The one was resisting, which was making matters worse, and as the small mob rained kicks and punches on him, he screamed again and again in a desperate, hoarse voice. Eventually, his cries sounded more animal than human. Despite the cliché, it's a very apt way to describe the noises he was making. If the thin light was creeping in from the alley, barely illuminating the scene, I may have thought that a mob was beating a large dog. Everyone in the courtyard was talking and yelling, but the moans and wails resounded well above the din, and they, along with the occasional report of a heavy blow landing square, or worse, the sound of someone spitting on the victim(?), where chilling. Finally, one of the six put a heavy boot on the one's head, and the others managed to hog tie him. He was still whimpering loudly. Around this time I asked someone what crime he had committed. My fellow audience member explained that the one was drunk and (while I was in the 'bathroom') had stumbled into Akamba's waiting room and started throwing rocks at people. So the askari and his friends did the logical thing, dragging him into a back alley to beat him. After his explanation, my new friend asked, 'so, do you have such justice in your country?' I laughed quietly. The dog was submitted and his whimpering was dying down, the audience started to disperse. I was just about to follow, when a sudden wave of inspiration and courage washed over me, and I asked the askari if I could take a picture. He agreed. The flash made the hoarse screaming start again, so I moved in and took another. All of the aggressors had left, now it was just me and the prisoner in the courtyard. I walked back out of the alley.

I talked to the askari, who told me the same story as the audience member. I bought a bunch of baby bananas and we shared them as we talked. (10/=) A bit later he went back down the alley and I followed, now the prisoner had been tied to a table by a pseudo-askari, who seemed pretty drunk himself. All of a sudden, four or five guys charged into the courtyard, yelling, and the two askari (and a friend, who had appeared from nowhere) went to work, restraining and threatening the gang with their wooden clubs and that lead pipe. It was explained to me, as the gang was ushered out of the courtyard, that these were the prisoner's buddies. Back out on the street there was a lot more shouting and threatening, and on a occasion some rational seeming discussion, and once or twice even a discordant display of comraderie, brotherhood even, between the askari and the gang.

Eventually a police truck pulled up and three men in street clothes but with machine guns jumoed out and were led by the askari down the alley. I followed. Once in the courtyard, I tried to remain inconspicuous, but one of the officers noticed me and asked, 'what's the problem?' in a real belliegrant tone, and I said, 'no problem, just curious' as evenly as possible. Fortunately, the askari said something to the officer that calmed him down (probably 'he's okay officer, he shared his bananas.') I wondered if there would have been more violenece if I hadn't been standing there, the officers looked like they were itching for a fight. The drunk askari produced a knife and cut the ropes off the prisoner. The officers roughly dragged him out of the courtyard, down the alley, and to the truck. They tossed him in and then they were driving away. The gang, the guy's buddies, were still nearby, and sending very evil looks my way, occasionally still confronting the askari and getting chased away with that lead pipe. I wan to get a beer, but decided that wandering around Kisii town right now would be pretty dumb, so instead I am just inside Akamba's waiting room, waiting for my bus to the war zone.

The gang is actually still outside, still giving me that evil eye.

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