By Andrew Ehrenkranz

On the eve of a proposed million-man opposition protest rally in Kenya recently, a spokesman for the “Taliban” in Kenya called NEWSWEEK, asking to meet somewhere in Nairobi. The man, who called himself Abraham, said he had urgent news of an 11th hour meeting between Kikuyu and Luo tribal elders in a Nairobi market, where they were attempting to broker a truce before an all-out war broke out in the slums of Nairobi. He tried to convey the contours and severity of the situation for his Luo people, of whom the Taliban claim to be defending, but one simple question needed an answer: Of all the names in the world for a group of 100 percent Christian, mainly large African men from Nairobi, why use the name “Taliban”?

“People already knew the name,” he said of "Taliban", reminding me that his so-called volunteer Luo defense force has nothing to do with the Afghani Taliban, or for that matter, the brand of terrorism practiced by Islamic fundamentalists. “The Taliban defended their people and their way of life. So are we.”

Of the more than 20 gangs and their tribal and ideological affiliates reportedly active across Kenya, the dizzying list is checkered with a number of strange, and some might say confounding monikers for African gangs: the Kosovo Boys, the Republican Council, the Dallas Muslim Youth. And that’s to say nothing of the most feared and notorious of the Kenyan vigilante forces, the Mungiki, whose name is actually somewhat fitting, if even a bit tame given their affinity for decapitating people. Mungiki means “multitude”, and there really are many of them, with over a million members across Kenya. 

As Kenya has descended into a political and tribal melee following its questionably democratic elections, feared gangs of new and old have reassembled and returned to the streets. Some religious, some tribal, some ragtag and just out to burn and loot, the outbreak of violent clashes that’s killed more than 650 people across the country since the Dec. 27th elections may be crippling the Kenyan economy, but it's been good for business amongst gangs who thrive on the absence of stability. Across Kenya, vigilante forces like the Taliban are out settling scores, offering “protection” to their impoverished neighbors and standing armies for wealthy political and tribal backers.

The presence of gangs, even ineptly named ones, is not new here in Kenya. According to William Gituru, a Kenyan academic and social counselor familiar with gangs and sectarian vigilante groups across the country, these groups tend to go for names that reflect the dark character of their activities. “These guys do nasty stuff, they are used by politicians for their dirty jobs, so they want to show their toughness.“

According to Gituru, the proliferation of mass media, films and music also plays an acute role in this English-speaking country, especially in the slums where American hip-hop stars are youth icons and gangster culture is a new obsession. Shortly after the war in the Balkans, the residents of a notorious Nairobi slum area began calling their squalid home “Kosovo” because of its resemblance to the images of the bombed-out former Yugoslavian cities flashing on TV screens. The neighborhood nickname spawned a gang by the same name, the “ Kosovo Boys”. Another rival group in Western Kenya called their turf “Baghdad” and themselves the "Baghdad Boys" until they disbanded and members split into three different groups, the biggest of which is the modern-day Taliban. “These are usually jobless, impressionable young men; they learn to thrive on power and chaos, and want you to know, to fear, that.“

The majority of these gang groups claim to be armed and prepared only in defense of their people and interests, but that seems to be only part of their daily operations. One of Kenya’s smaller tribes, the Kisii, that are predominantly in Nyanza province in Western Kenya, are said to have spawned not one but two groups: the Amuchuma (“piece of metal”) and the Chinkororo (“We will rain on you”), a 3,000-strong youthful protection group prevalent in Western Kenya, who have apparently played a violent support role in every election since 1992. The Republican Council, an oath-taking, Muslim group defending the Digo community, operate in and around Mombasa on Kenya’s coast. Their name stems from their desire for the coastal region to separate and form their own republic apart from Kenya. Their fighters allegedly undergo guerilla-style training in a remote southern Kenyan forest before returning to their hometowns.

There really isn’t a fitting word, or a printable name, to describe what’s become of Kenya over the past few weeks. Even today few Kenyans--let alone diplomats--seem to have a clue how to forge a political solution, let alone what will happen next. In the meantime, the African Cup of Nations soccer tournament began in Ghana this week, which many Kenyans seem to be welcoming as a unifying, safe distraction from the problems facing their nation today.