Cowboys born and bred in Kenya

A man was cycling home on his black mamba one night, down a quiet track on the outskirts of a coastal town.  It had been a hard day, but he had earned his shillings and was pleased to be bringing food for supper; looking forward to the pride and pleasure of his family when he displayed the fare on the table.

Meanwhile, he needed to relieve himself.  So he laid the bike down on the edge of the road and walked to a nearby bush. While he was in mid-stream, as it were, a big 4x4 “safari” vehicle full of revellers came by; some seated, some standing among the roof-mounted spotlights, all laughing and cavorting, and all with the mandatory bottle of White Cap in hand.

When they saw the bike, the vehicle swerved, the spotlights blazed, and the guy in the bush was given several thousand watts of quartz halogen embarrassment before the vehicle roared away with a fanfare on its horn.    

The people in the vehicle were, of course, instantly recognisable (or branded anyway) as ‘Kenya Cowboys’ — a segment of white settlers’ descendants who range from simply coarse and boisterous to downright loutish.

Their victim in this case was probably not targeted because he was poor or black;  for those reasons he got off lightly.  Had he been white, he would have been subjected to much longer and louder taunts.

Had he been another KC, he would have followed them until they parked at a nearby hostelry, and let all their tyres down. That’s how Kenya Cowboys — some of whom are now middle aged and beyond —  mostly are.

Harmless roughnecks

But the example illustrates the fine line between the majority of harmless roughnecks that others see with amusement or mild irritation, and a minority whose attitude and conduct elicits real resentment — even deep loathing.

Descriptors I have heard while discussing this article range from such dismissives as “twits” and “clowns”, to with-feeling invectives like “pig-ignorant” and “arrogant”.

While “KC” refers originally, generally and light-heartedly to the former, it does not deny or excuse the latter. That makes the term ‘KC’ a tricky subject. It means so many different things to different people; those it is applied to can be very different from each other; and the characteristics it is meant to embrace can range from lovable, to laughable, to loathsome.  

Kenya Cowboys — originally and generally — are long-term white Kenyans (and some more recent wannabes)  who work hard and  play even harder; who, just like their namesakes of Hollywood mythology, arrive at the gallop and head straight for the saloon bar to wash down the day’s grime — straight from the bottle — and scope for wenches, whose “not until…” is one of the few incentives for a bath and a change of clothes.  

Their humour and preferred pursuits, like their life, are earthy.  They know more about shock absorbers than about Socrates. Rugby is more interesting than Rembrandt. Their vocabulary is an afro-saxon argot — they think coitus interuptus means deck games on the Titanic.

Some of their girls are molls. Others are fully-fledged, card-carrying echoes of the boys. And many white Kenyan girls are neither. KCs are a dying breed by virtue of both time and trend — politically and culturally irrelevant, though by commitment (!) and performance they make a positive contribution to the economy.

They are a more significant part of Kenya’s social history and demography than the over-lauded (sic) “Happy Valley” set, and have long outlasted them. Today they are more dilute and diverse, but still bear the unmistakeable stamp of the KC Asili from which they descend.

So, where did the originals come from, what did they stand for, and what created and defined them? (the use of the past tense being an expression of hope rather than an exact reflection of fact).

Who came from where  

The first settlers in what is now known as Kenya were of course black-skinned, as wave after wave of migration from the North and West of this continent colonised and progressively evicted the incumbent people, whose remnants now survive in the Kalahari.

This process continues, and will soon accelerate if global warming, foxy politics and population growth make neighbouring semi-desert regions uninhabitable (and to every global trend these days we must add the word “China”)

Sorry if that does not fit with popular political posture, but it is historic fact and much of it is in the not-so-distant past … or future.

A deeper study will reveal exactly who came from where and when, and, even more importantly, “why”— were they just wanderers, or political refugees ousted in their own turn, or economic migrants, or nomads fleeing drought and pestilence, or traders who lingered, or active empire builders?

For past motives map the likely cadres of people involved … and that steers future probabilities.

In a relatively very brief interlude (lasting barely one century among millennia) there was also a migration and settlement of white-skinned people from Europe, mainly Britain.  In Kenya, British motives were overwhelmingly empire-building —b crucial to understand in this context because “Kenya Cowboys” are, definitively, the children and grandchildren and now even great-grand children of some of them.

Also pivotal is that the first white settlers were not a complete cross-section of the British population; far from it. There were, for example, almost no blue-collar workers, no-inner-city bottom-feeders, nor majority classes you might find at the Stretford End of a Manchester United crowd or among low-rung squaddies in the army, or at the docks of 18th and 19th  Century trade ports like Cape Town.

Happy Valley    

Kenya got a well-above average slice — first highly educated, inquisitive and adventurous explorers; then enterprising international traders and strong-willed pioneers; then missionaries; progressively augmented by engineers and other professionals; academics; later by demobbed soldiers; and along the way by the black sheep of quasi royal families who were sent here (“far away”) as Remittance Men.

They received a regular stipend from “home” on condition they stayed away; they constituted the core of Happy Valley society; they evolved into some of the very best and some of the very worst representatives of their family, nationality and race.

What set all these settlers apart most of all was that they came to stay.  Kenya had been visited by many foreign cultures for more than a thousand years, but few ventured further than the beach, and those who did entered only to plunder and go.  The antecedents of the KC came to live … inland … and develop.

The fact that this extract from Europe was quite select does not mean these people were specially good or nice. Though some were both, others were neither, but it does mean many were a lot more able than average and, by nature and nurture, better equipped with mixtures of resources, acumen, wilfulness and eccentricity to survive and prosper.

People who didn’t have at least one of those ingredients didn’t come here.  And genetics has trends.

What they all had in common was self-confidence —not just among the local population, but everywhere!  Most were from the higher-performance echelons of a nation that ran half the world.

The fact that in Kenya they were a tiny minority but totally dominant administratively conferred a sense of privilege and elitism, which only reinforced that perception.

Their descendants were born into that pattern and (unless they also spent serious time in other parts of the world) knew no other; you begin to see where the Kenya Cowboys might be coming from, and why their self-assumed status (whether merited or not in any individual case) was and is resented in some quarters.  

Hardships

The “time away” seems to be a crucial determinant, between those who simply display vestiges of the style and those who truly embody the stigma.  Let it be said once but clearly:  Each part of the settler set — then and now, including those categorised as KCs —  includes a quota of exceptionally good people, some ordinary and some truly ghastly.

In that extraordinary time (for Kenya especially) called the 20th century, white Kenyans endured great hardships, enjoyed great benefits, and managed a notable and notorious mix of achievements and blunders.  And they bred, with varied degrees of aptitude and diligence in the matter of raising their children … properly.  

Some did well and Kenya enjoys the benefits of their performance and contribution to this day.  But neither Happy Valley parties nor pioneering imperatives nor the once prevalent syndrome of “are you married or do you live in Kenya?” constitute natural seed beds for sober bookworms who would rather discuss Plato than take pot shots with catapults.

The emergence of a “wild bunch” was likely and, at the extreme, “foetal alcohol syndrome” was a possible consequence for some; perhaps those few who today fit the worldwide paradigm of “thugs who have nowhere to go”.     

In succeeding generations, the initial cliquism between different types of settler (Muthaiga Club for the military and farmers, Nairobi Club for the business and professional community) blurred — by dint of dilution and numerical necessity —  into an overall clique of “mzungus”.  They were born of criss-crossing roots, mixed, and subsequently spread as different branches.

A considerable number of second and third (and now fourth and an imminent fifth generation) white Kenyans lived up to their innate potential and privileged opportunities. Then and still now.

A dramatically disproportionate number of fast-lane, high performance individuals who are internationally well-regarded in many different fields either had or still have their roots in Kenya.

Start with the number of Kenyan children who became captains of their teams or head boys at the leading British schools, and then, for instance, Oxbridge graduates at statistically 10:1 the overall British norm, and take it from there.

Others dispersed or stayed adequately but less notably.

The advent of independence, when the Kenyan society as a whole restructured from distinct brown and beige strata and became peppered with increasingly numerous and diverse expatriates, threw a third cadre into sharp focus:  the children of white settlers who had neither blossomed nor blended, and their descendants.

Circumstances quickly homogenised them into their own clique and developed a culture that earned a universally recognised brand name:  “Kenya Cowboy”, and the anthem “Kenya born and Kenya bred, strong in the arm and thick in the head”.   

Cold beer

To emphasise that this is a sub-set, both the name and the rhyme were coined by white Kenyans themselves, and only later adopted by the rest of the population and applied to all whites born in Kenya on a “guilty until proved innocent” basis.  

Kenyan is what they are.  And proud of it!  Calling them Kenya Cowboys is not an insult.  It’s a barbed complement and, quite simply, the truth.

If you want to have a conversation with one, try:  “Ola, vaquero! Que pasa, amigo?” and expect a reply like: “Zuri, dugu. Inaning’inia namna gani?”  And have a (cold) beer.