Feeding the world

Agricultural land is in increasing demand. Around 40% of the earth's surface is already used for agriculture, and this limited land space is being put under increasing strain. Growing populations already putting stretch the available farmland, and changing eating habits arising from increased wealth is further accentuating the problem. For example, people in developing countries get richer and (deservedly) start to buy more meat; but it takes 7kg of grain to produce 1kg of beef, so the strain on resources is further accentuated. You have to wonder how (and what) we will eat in a few years time.*

After the number of times I was asked to buy someone lunch this week, I can conclude that Kenya is a key victim of this food shortage!

Let me back up a bit for those of you who haven't spent time in Kenya. When someone asks you to buy them lunch, they basically are after a bit of money (read bribe). Previously I'd largely managed to glide past this problem, but this last week has been the tipping point where it seems that I'm being asked for "lunch" twice a day, culminating in a rather unsavoury incident I'll get to later. It's a clear-fire sign I'm well into stage 2 of the culture shock theory.

Now why exactly would you buy people "lunch"? Either to keep things running smoothly or to extricate yourself from a bad situation. Let's give some examples.

By last Tuesday I'd already  been asked for "lunch" by half a dozen guys, and bought it for two. Firstly some guys carrying tiles to the car (to ensure they got there in one piece), and secondly a private parking lot security guard who'd caught me sneaking back into the parking lot with shopping bags (wise to make sure I can use the parking place again, as I will need to). But these were just a few shillings, and the mother of all lunches was still to come on Wednesday morning.

It was a typically busy morning for me during which I had to make four stops before midday for materials. I was rolling into Nairobi, right by the UN (the UN Environmental Programme is based in Nairobi in case you did not know), stuck in typical morning traffic which was being hindered... ahem.... controlled by a disinterested looking police officer. As his handywork brought the whole road to a halt, he paced up and down inspecting vehicles. "Rental car, nothing to worry about", I thought. Wrong.

Next thing - knock, knock - "your tyre is worn out. let me in, you have to go to court".

It was clear pretty quickly where this was going but did my best to get out of it. We pulled over by a petrol station at the back of the UN and an argument ensued during which I stuck to the point it's an emergency rental car I've had 3 days, and he held his line of "I don't care, you're driving it" interspersed with grunts, all while looking at pictures of naked women on his new large screen Samsung Galaxy phone. This went on for about twenty minutes; during which our cop started asking all kinds of ridiculous questions like "does that plastic cup contain whisky" (when it had coffee) and "is your driving licence valid internationally"? In other words, second rate intimidation. Eventually I talked to the gent I was renting the car from by phone, we settled on me buying the our rotund controller a gourmet lunch (ultimately all he wanted) and deducting it from the rental charge. The mysterious Mzungu effect had finally run out.

It's funny because the western side of me, like the western side of most of us, while used to using money to smooth things over, never really expected to buy a police officer "lunch". Then again, the second part of me acknowledges I've been on a pretty good run to get so far through life without doing the dirty; most notably having talked my way out of a couple of pretty hairy situations with the police during my year and a half in Mexico, and  a few more here as well in recent years. Luck has finally run out.

But what's more worrying about this whole situation is the idea of a person like this working quite high up in the police force. From his uniform it was clear his rank was quite high, and he was probably nominating himself for traffic control duty only to line his pockets. There is good and bad everywhere, and the bravery of some of the police during the Westgate siege showed there are plenty of good police in Kenya. But unfortunately there are quite a lot of bad ones too. My encounter is a drop in the sea and rather minor compared to some of the things I've heard which go on here. Since arriving, I've heard stories which make this guy seem like a pussy cat:

If you've seen Training Day you'll know who this is...

Cross the police here at your peril...

* You'd never guess I work in this field. Spend long enough studying the problem and you might even convince yourself that companies like Monsanto (while far from angelic) aren't quite as bad as they get made out to be!