KENYA: Fear of HIV infection and high costs force members of the Bukusu community to replace ancient circumcision rituals with modern medicine
Record ID:
362663
KENYA: Fear of HIV infection and high costs force members of the Bukusu community to replace ancient circumcision rituals with modern medicine
- Title: KENYA: Fear of HIV infection and high costs force members of the Bukusu community to replace ancient circumcision rituals with modern medicine
- Date: 1st September 2002
- Summary: (L!2) BUNGOMA KENYA (AUGUST 31-SEPTEMBER 1) (REUTERS) VARIOUS OF TWO BUKUSU BOYS BEING GIVEN A MUD BATH (8 SHOTS) LV/MV TWO BUKUSU BOYS WITH TRADITIONAL BELLS WALKING ON ROAD (2 SHOTS) MV/PAN BUKUSU BOY RUNNING AND DANCING WITH FRIENDS AND FAMILY (2 SHOTS) VARIOUS OF BUKUSU BOY ON A BICYCLE (2 SHOTS) VARIOUS FRED KASEMBELI AND HIS ENTOURAGE COMING HOME (4 SHOTS) SV CEREMO
- Embargoed: 16th September 2002 13:00
- Keywords:
- Location: BUNGOMA, KENYA
- Country: Kenya
- Topics: Health
- Reuters ID: LVAWFWRXK000Y5KCU0R95RJ3D4P
- Story Text: The ancient circumcision rituals of Kenya's Bukusu community are some of the country's most unique ceremonies.
But fear of HIV infection and unbearable costs are forcing many members of the ethnic group to forsake tradition for a healthier option, local hospitals and clinics.
It's no easy thing for boys to become men among the Bukusu people of western Kenya, but in less than an hour these teenagers will be circumcised - the climax of their initiation to adulthood. Surrounded by only their closest male relatives, they are covered with mud dug from the banks of this sacred stream.
The Bukusu believe that if it were to ever dry up - all the boys who were brought here for this ritual would die soon after. The road to manhood is long and hard for Bukusu boys even before they finally face the knife. As is customary, they've spent the last week on the move, going round to friends and relatives to tell them about the upcoming event.
There are often great distances between the homes they visit, so sometimes the boys enlist a little help.
Sixteen years old Fred Kasembeli has waited two years to get his chance.
The Bukusu only circumcise their boys in August of every other year. Earlier that day in Fred's home, a bull had been slaughtered. Neighbours, village elders, relatives, and friends of the family have gathered for the pre-circumcision party. The cow's entrails are read by a soothsayer who promises that Fred will have a long and fruitful life. The first pieces of this roasted meat will be saved for Fred to eat when he returns from making his final rounds.
The Bukusu believe that during circumcision, Fred will be temporarily possessed by ancestral spirits who bless him and the family. The slightest sign of pain during the cutting will outrage the ancestors and the family will be cursed forever.
So on the eve of his circumcision, the men take him aside and smear him with the contents of a bull's intestines. A necklace cut from the bull's stomach lining is hung around his neck.
Their aim is to make Fred's current state of boyhood shameful and unbearable to him.
Through the night, he will be slapped, pushed, and threatened - things they wouldn't dare do if he was a man like them. Tonight, he can only dream of the pride he will feel one day when it's his turn to sit with other respected elders to drink busaa, a traditional beer brewed for them on this special occasion. Tonight, he must keep his ceremonial bells ringing at a constant rhythm, and an unblinking stare on his face. The drinking and partying going on around him will also continue till morning.
A new day breaks over western Kenya. The dawn symbolises the beginning of another life for Fred and hundreds of other boys who will be circumcised today. Soon they will be reborn either as brave Bukusu men, or disgraced and ostracised from family and friends. It is Fred's turn for a mud bath. His uncles keep whips and sticks in plain view as reminders of what the consequences of cowardice will be.
Once he's completely covered, he's carefully carried over the stream's slippery banks. To fall here would be a very bad omen.
The family waits anxiously for Fred's return. There are many things that could go wrong. Fred might not be able to withstand the pain, and there is the possibility of error by the circumciser.
"The ceremony is risky. The circumciser could hurt the child by cutting too deeply. When this happens, the boy's relatives could kill the circumciser. So then the circumciser dies, and if the child is not rushed to the hospital, he also dies " says Mr. Julius Wanguswa, the village chief.
But there is no cause to worry this time. The circumcisers are quick and capable. Fred proves to be brave and strong. The ordeal is over. His sister proudly helps peel off the dried mud. A few steps away his mother is congratulated by her peers. She is prouder than anyone here but custom dictates that women take a lesser role during important traditional events.
Elijah Wekesa, Fred's father says
"we don't want circumcisions to be done in the hospital; it would be going against our traditions. These are ancient rituals and we don't want them corrupted".
But Elijah Wekesa's sentiments are no longer shared by most of his community. Fears of HIV infection and the high costs of traditional circumcision have led many Bukusu to trade in their bells and dancing for local anaesthetic; a university trained doctor, and fewer expenses.
Mr Wanguswa says "The dancing ceremony on the eve of the circumcision is a major encouragement to the spread of AIDS.
The things that happen at night during the dancing may help spread it but not the actual circumcision. We have not heard of a child that got AIDS from the knife."
But doctor Peter Marumba of the Bungoma Medical Centre differs on this point.
"The knives are expensive and they are also not very easy to get in terms of the way they are made. So they are forced to use one knife for several candidates and we think it's important that if we don't take very serious action and phase it out, the transmission may very easily occur during circumcision."
Either way, an increasing number of Bukusu parents are choosing not to take the risk.
"If you compare these days with the 1970s, those that were taken to the hospital were very few, about three or four.
Nowadays those that go to the hospital are more than those who do it at home " said the chief.
Dr. Marumbu has already attended to over 40 boys in the past few weeks. The effects of an ailing Kenyan economy can be felt even here. Traditional circumcision costs up to 20,000 Kenyan shillings or about 250 dollars. More than 50% of rural Kenya now lives on less than a dollar a day. "At the end of the day when this boy is healed, when he is supposed to go back to school he is not able to raise the fees, one has already gone into these expenses, that is actually not getting our priorities right."
Most Bukusus are subsistence farmers, depending on maize crops and cattle for food and a little money. But they can not grow as much maize or graze their cattle on as much land as they used to. Their ancestral lands have been carved up into smaller and smaller pieces as their population grows.
Soon their teenage boys may not have to bear tremendous amounts of pain to prove their manhood. But AIDS and the economic hardships that are robbing them of their traditions will also ensure that it will not be any easier for them to be responsible men. - Copyright Holder: REUTERS
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