So close, yet so far

By Maryanne Waweru

A few months ago, the world was shocked to learn that an Austrian man had locked his daughter in a cellar for 24 years — and fathered seven children with her! How could that have happened? Many people wondered how a father could make a ‘wife’ out of his daughter, right in their basement, and manage to keep his wife and neighbours in the dark.

Most of us believe such an incident cannot pass unnoticed in our neighbourhoods. Although life is changing, many rural folk still live in close-knit neighbourhoods where the entire community is regarded as one big family. With urbanisation, however, many people no longer know who their neighbours are? Especially in urban (or urbanised) neighbourhoods, would anyone notice if anything untoward happened?

Stephen Kariuki and Margaret Wambua
Stephen Kariuki, a resident of Eastleigh in Nairobi, says that in urban centres, an incident like that which took place in Austria can happen without neighbours even being aware of it. This, he says, is due to the individualistic nature of urbanites, who tend to be too absorbed in their own lives to care about neighbours.

Kariuki, a driver with a local NGO, recalls an incident a few years ago when one of his neighbours died in his house. It took about four days for people to notice that the person was missing. And this was only because of the stench emanating from the dead man’s house.

Kariuki lives in a compound that accommodates a block of 30 housing units that are closely huddled together. Of the 30 houses, he is only acquainted with two families — who hail from his rural village. He recognises the other residents only by appearance and nothing more.

But he insists that this lack of knowledge of neighbours is not out of his lack for concern. Having been born and raised in Murang’a, Kariuki extols the virtues of good neighbourliness. When he moved to Nairobi 14 years ago, he carried this attitude with him, only to be disappointed at everyone’s attitude. He claims urban dwellers are too snobbish.

"They hate any form of intrusion and do not like being bothered," he says.

During his first days in town, he attempted to make friends with his neighbours, but every time he knocked on their door for a visit, the host never welcomed him in. Instead, the person stepped out and talked to him at the doorstep.

"I always felt as if my friendly gestures to neighbours were a bother," Kaiuki says. He thinks people are not too welcoming to ‘strangers’ because they fear they might be robbed or harmed in some other way. Today, he can only moan the loss of sociability in urban towns. "In the village, you do not need an invitation to walk into someone’s home. You just stroll in and you will be readily served with food. There, people know everything about each other, what they ate last night, what time they slept, who sneezed, or who has a running stomach. That is not so in Nairobi where you can die in your house and remain there for weeks before anyone ever discovers you."

Who is this familiar stranger?

According to Victor Onsase, the culture in metropolitan areas is a one of "Me, me, me". He observes: "The neighbourhood principle is completely lost on these people, who seem to abide by some unwritten rule that says ‘stay out of my businesses’." An accountant, Onsase lives in Umoja estate, Nairobi, with his family. They live in a block of flats with dozens of other tenants, but he has no idea about the number of houses in it or who lives where.

"I live on the ground floor and, honestly, I have never bothered to look up. Maybe there are three or four floors: I don’t really know."

Onsase, who has lived in this flat for the past two years, does not know any of his neighbours, but is only vaguely familiar with some faces. Recently, he and a peculiarly recognisable man met at a bar. "We both looked familiar to each other, but just couldn’t figure out where we knew each other from," he says. After interacting a little, it dawned on them that they lived in the same flat.

Asked what this friend’s name is, Onsase scratches his head in thought, guessing: he hasn’t a clue! On account of their frequently meeting at the bar, their friendship has flourished. Still, they do not visit each other at home and do not even bother to learn each other's names.

"I do not know where to find time for neighbours," says Onsase. "I leave for work early in the morning and return late in the evening. My weekends are also full."

He adds: "In Nairobi, you can live with your neighbour for years on end without ever exchanging a ‘hello’. Many times, I want to say ‘hello’, but the stern look on the face of the other person stops me."

After sharing a greeting for a while, he says, neighbours should naturally progress from acquaintanceship to some degree of friendship. "But once you ask the person where he works or what he does for a living, he thinks you are prying and will start avoiding you." People in the city, he says, do not trust each other and are afraid of each other. "Innocent, friendly gestures are interpreted as intrusiveness. With time, you learn to mind your own business too."

Onsase believes that the urbanites are so stuck-up that one can live next to a most-wanted criminal and not even be aware of it.

Today, many young parents are too busy to even find out who their children interact with in the neighbourhood. Mary Auma, a mother of two who lives in South C, Nairobi, says modern technology has contributed to the decline of friendly relations between neighbours. "While long ago children from different families would bring their parents together, nowadays children are more interested in making friends via the Internet, playing computer games and watching 24-hour TV," she says.

A businesswoman, Auma says it is difficult to know what goes on in people’s homes because of the high fences and high gates people have erected around their houses. "These gates only open and close when a car is being driven in or out," she observes. Previously, fences were low and you could easily converse with your neighbour. We also left our gates open."

Neighbours in town

In spite of the indifference among neighbours, a few sociable people are intent on preserving good ties. Apparently, Margaret Wambua and family are acquainted with all their neighbours.

"At least we know their names, their telephone numbers, and a few things about them," says Margaret.

"We have even shared dinner at our houses with some of them, because we believe there is a lot to gain from the social capital of neighbours."

She wonders when and why society stopped caring about their neighbours. Growing up in Jericho estate in Nairobi, she says she knew all the names (first, middle and last) of all the people who lived next to them, and even those in the next court.

"Together with our parents, we talked to them and visited them frequently. People followed the principle that the village raises the child, and that neighbours disciplined each others’ children."

Margaret says that many people are afraid of reprimanding a neighbour's child for fear of consequences. She believes there are benefits to tight-knit neighbourhoods, especially during emergencies. "An emergency can occur any time and you may need the help of your neighbours," she says. A major source of the erosion of good neighbourliness, she says, is cell phones and Internet connections in homes. "During an emergency, people simply call for help using their phones, or use the Internet to look up information without having to step out of their house."

The fact that many people own cars today has also contributed to this loss. "Long ago, neighbours would walk to the bus stop together, chatting and bonding."

Japheth Nyambane, a sociologist, says modernity, which is quickly being adopted by many African communities, is characterised by individualism and exclusionism, meaning that rules of communal responsibility and accountability do not hold. "Everyone is responsible for themselves, with the forces of modernity pushing people into steadfast competition. People are preoccupied with the rush to meet basic needs and accumulate wealth, such that the person is left with no time to socialise."

He says people temporarily change their attitude when circumstances dictate it, for instance following a robbery, murder or during an impending disaster. People who live close by, he says, should build "neighbourhood watches".

Close neighbours, he adds, are also able to socialise their children, develop institutions such as day-care centres, support their youth and engage in environmental conservation.