Kenya Togetherness

Wangari Maathai, the first African woman to win a Nobel Peace Prize, whose efforts in sustainable development were based on the principles of harambee. Nairobi, Kenya.

“Can you come and help me pick the harvest tomorrow?”

I have to admit I was a bit surprised when I was asked this by a Kenyan colleague. In many cultures, a request like this might be seen as presumptuous, or even rude. But in Kenya, it’s fun, it’s important, and it’s expected. Whether it is help with the harvest, paying for a wedding, or rebuilding someone’s house, there is an assumption that everyone will chip in, and that in their hour of need the same help will be available to them. Given that major expenses such as medical, school, or funeral costs can rarely be met by one family alone, this is not considered charity, but instead pooling collective resources to go further and achieve more.

When the call to help comes, people generally don’t make excuses about being too busy or a bit short of cash. Most throw themselves into the task, whether it is helping one family, or banding together to do something the local community needs, such as building a school. Everyone works together to make sure the job gets done and the cost is met. Blue or red envelopes will go around the office on a regular basis, collecting contributions: for your neighbor’s child who’s just gotten into one of the country’s best schools; to rebuild your colleague’s roof, which fell down last night.

The philosophy that underpins this spirit of togetherness is harambee (pull together), the founding national value, with which every Kenyan is familiar. It even features on the country’s flag. Harambee is a term that was originally coined in the 1890s, as a symbol of solidarity among the Indian workers who built the Kenya–Uganda railway, the so-called lunatic line, whose construction cost the lives of around 2,500 laborers, as a result of oppressive working conditions, malaria, and black fever.

Latterly, harambee was an idea popularized by Kenya’s inaugural president, Jomo Kenyatta, who made the idea central to his Independence Day speech in 1963. “You must know that Kenyatta alone cannot give you everything,” he said. “All things we must do together to develop our country, to get education for our children, to have doctors, to build roads, to improve or provide all day-to-day essentials.”

What began under Kenyatta as a socialist platform to work toward national unity and self-sufficiency has become a ubiquitous symbol in Kenyan society. The presidential plane? Harambee One. The national football team? The Harambee Stars.

The idea of harambee may have had political origins, but it has been taken to heart by Kenyans who want to solve their problems locally rather than relying on government intervention. In a nation that can often divide along tribal and ethnic lines (especially when it comes to politics), harambee can unify communities around a common cause, one that will be to the benefit of all. Without harambee, there would be many more places without the roads, schools, and infrastructure that collective investment and labor have helped to build. It’s a form of insurance that operates as a philosophy: powered by people and embedded in the community, something lasting, sustainable, and that will never let you down. It’s a principle that underpins the prevalent institution of the chama, local cooperatives into which people pay a monthly amount to pool resources and help members one by one in their time of need.

While harambee has its critics, from an uneven impact on economic development to politicians who have sought to exploit the concept, it remains an integral part of Kenyan society, especially as its influence spreads into the digital world. The outstanding example is M-Pesa, the mobile money network that was launched in 2007 and counts around 55 percent of the Kenyan population as customers. Today there are endless apps that deliver the same kind of service, but few started so early and have achieved as much as M-Pesa (which is now used all over the world). Designed to help Kenyans overcome the country’s weak infrastructure for moving money, it has become an essential tool for city-dwellers wanting to send money back to their families in remote villages, and to local communities in pooling resources to deliver harambee projects.

A culture in which fund-raising drives can be supported by the effortless transfer of money, and activities quickly shared over Facebook or WhatsApp, is one where harambee can happen more easily and quickly than ever before. In a country where access to mobile phones is more common than access to clean toilets, digital networks are services helping people work together in a new way, in the long-standing tradition of harambee.

Harambee is important not just because it helps support communities and build facilities. The experience of it is almost uniquely uplifting. The morning I helped out on the harvest showed me that working together in this way is not just valuable, but also joyful and invigorating. You can forget all the things on your mind and throw yourself into the task at hand, supported by others who are volunteering their time too, and driven by the sense of making a positive contribution. When you know that your problems will be shared, and that the community will stand with you in your time of need, you sleep easier at night. Togetherness is the ethos that drives everything from thriving communities to successful companies. More insular cultures (think how little you know even your next-door neighbors) should look to Kenya, and how the power of working together can bridge divides, boost local communities, and uplift the spirit.