"We will have to arrest you" - A battle against corruption

As I write out this blog post on my latest encounter with corruption in Kenya, Jua and Duma are suffering. The to do's are piling on, especially after a rich discussion, and strong buy-in towards action from the Juhudi Regional Managers, over the course of a 3-day Juhudi Kilimo management offsite earlier this week in Kitale, a small, primarily agricultural market town in Western Kenya. I am re-energized and ready to push on those fronts, but I must spend the next hour or two reflecting on my experience this morning and breaking down some of my thoughts on corruption, not only because the encounter itself was intense and somewhat entertaining, which I will be detailing out quite extensively in this post, but also because the topic is important and “by default” something I am deeply passionate about. I am a simple independent professional Pakistani, with a background in consulting, not a Neo-Colonialist or a Missionary, and I want to take ownership of this problem in Pakistan.

For my readers who are not yet familiar with Jua and Duma, please await a future blog post on these topics. Until then, the only thing to know is that I spend 80% of my time at Juhudi on Project Jua & Project Duma. And there is also Project Night-vision now, which is something I dreamed up this morning in my shower thoughts, and which I am excited to roll my sleeves up for, over the next couple of weeks. Night-vision is a working title. It's a controversial play on the name of our MIS software platform, Microsoft's "Navision", and the fact that we might be "in the dark" with our current systems and processes. I am looking for a more inspiring and positive Kiswahili word to replace "Night-vision" over the next few days.

Now, returning to the main topic. In just my first 68 days here in Kenya, I have already had 3 direct encounters with corruption. The first 2 were routine police checkpoint stops, where we were accused of not fastening our seatbelts the first time, and not being able to produce the right insurance documentation the second time. By contrast, in my 2 to 3 years as an adult, and another 4 to 5 years growing up in Pakistan, I have not had a single direct encounter with corruption or extortion. This, in spite of the fact that one hears about corruption and extortion all the time in Pakistan, and Transparency International regularly lists Pakistan as the second most corrupt country in the world (based on the Corruption Perception Index or CPI survey). We have never been Number One, even though as a nation we probably hold the competitive spirit to earn that distinction, but the rather old and clichéd joke is that we have been paying off the TI folks.

So why is Kenya providing me with a first first-hand taste of what I should have, in the statistical sense, experienced in Pakistan? Part of the reason might be luck, and I have indeed been very lucky. I may also not have been too exposed to ordinary situations, living out of hotels, and travelling in “biggish” cars. This also likely drives fear which might be holding back corrupt officials from engaging me, as I perhaps appear to be affluent and thus "connected". A little spoiler alert now. This card was played as a bluff in my encounter earlier this morning, and is probably what got me out of my situation. Finally, I do come across as a man with strong principles, although I haven't been wearing my "I have strong principles" T-Shirt that often.

So, although I have not directly suffered through this cancerous epidemic in Pakistan, I cannot seem to slip under the radar here in Kenya. I will gladly make the most of this unexpected opportunity to experience corruption first-hand, reflect upon what is happening, and think through potential answers and solutions to this problem.

This morning, I took a trip to the Nairobi Immigration Office to extend my 3 month visa which is set to expire on the 27th of this month. What is important to appreciate here is that this is at least 12 days before the expiry date. I filled in the forms, and waited in the queue which was not long at all for a service counter set-up of this nature (the consulting mind has to think about these things). I have recently had to frequent the Dubai Electricity and Water Authority Office in Al Wasl, and the Pakistan Consulate in Dubai, so my expectations in these kinds of service counter set-ups have been radically re-calibrated (or re-benchmarked, if you allow me to use a consulting term). The lady at the counter reviewed my documentation, gleaned over my passport, and got a tiny bit excited, instructing me to come to the office in the back to have a word with her boss. Her boss was an oldish man, in a dark grey suit, perched in front of a portrait of Mwai Kibaki, overlooking all his minions working away at the 7 or 8 counters cutting across the large hall. He examined my passport page by page, and then looked across at me. The very first thing he said to me is the following: "We will have to arrest you". He elaborated further, pointing to the scribbles over the immigration stamp which read "KVP/1M/B". Apparently, the "1M" stands for 1 month, and the "B" for business, not 1 “Muzungu” (polite Swahili word for foreigner) and “Business” as I had previously assumed.

My three month single entry visa, with a listed expiry date of the 27th of July, apparently does not allow me to stay beyond 1 month, as so clearly spelled out in the scribbles. I explained to him politely but firmly that the expiry date listed on the visa is the 27th, and that I did not read or understand the writing on top of the immigration stamp, since it is coded. He snapped at me rudely, telling me not to try to defend myself. "You can plead ignorance, but a magistrate will never believe your story", he told me in a rather harsh tone. He went on further, now in rhetorical mode, stating just how "heinous" my crime is. "Would you like it if someone comes to your country and overstays?", he asked. He then took a calendar, and literally started counting the number of days that I have been staying here legally, and the number of days I have overstayed, one by one, going slower and slower as the days added up. FYI, in case you were curious, I stayed legally for 30 days and allegedly overstayed by 38 days.

At this point, I realized that my earlier tone - polite but firm – was a little counter-productive and pulled out my "cute" card. I responded somewhat innocently to his rhetorical questions, stating that I would not like it if someone overstayed in my country, and that it was a big problem there with Afghan refugees, just as it is here in Kenya, with Somali refugees. I apologized for "over staying" and tried to plead my case again, but this time in a very soft and timid tone, adding further that I came voluntarily to the immigration office to get my visa extended, which makes my intent very clear. He shook his head in disdain, and called another one of his sub-ordinates over to formally "arrest" me. I was expecting to be taken to a Police Station, being thrown in a jail cell, likely shared with 2 or 3 inmates, possibly with a background in violent crime, and with a good chance of carrying blood borne infectious diseases.

Another gentleman, the sub-ordinate, dressed in a light grey suit takes me outside the building and "hands me over" to a lady police officer, with an automatic weapon, who was clearly the security guard on duty, and not the sort of police officer who could legitimately arrest anyone. We now had a back and forth with this gentleman again. The same arguments repeated. The same innocence pleaded on my part, and complete disdain, almost pity, towards me on his part. No arrest as I had suspected but deadlock. The sub-ordinate went back to consult with his dark suited boss, whom we met earlier. In the meantime, Benson, my chaperone for this exercise, who runs a taxi company in Nairobi had a chat in Swahili with the Lady Guard. Oh! Did I not mention that Benson was with me the whole time, right by my side? Up until now Benson was silent, and I was doing all the talking, so he was not an important character to bring into the fold. But, Benson now got involved in the action. Benson gets a AAA* for going beyond the call of duty, and for his sharp wittedness during the course of this encounter.

The grey suited gentleman, i.e. the sub-ordinate, came back and asked the lady police officer to escort us to a "Senior Prosecutor" stationed on the 7th floor of the building. We all jumped into a crowded lift, Lady Police Office along with her automatic weapon. She made us wait in the lobby of the 7^th floor for a little while, while she took my passport and explained the situation to this "Senior Prosecutor". It was just me and Benson now, who explained to me that there was nothing to worry about, and that they were just intimidating me to try and get me to grease their palms. He told me that 2,000 Kenyan Shillings would do the trick. I made it very clear to him that I would under no circumstance pay a bribe, and that my first preference was to get on the first flight out of Nairobi. I was quite certain that this was an easy course of action to pursue, as any country is always looking to quickly get rid of aliens which have overstayed. I know this because I was once deported from Saudi Arabia. They were so eager to get me out of Jeddah airport as quickly as possible, 2-years ago when I tried to enter "illegally" as a Muslim during Haj that they did not even allow me to use the bathroom at the airport, and sent me to a completely random third country, which happened to be Bahrain, to catch a connecting flight to Dubai (FYI – Muslims on a business visa are not allowed to enter Saudi Arabia during Hajj, the annual Muslim pilgrimage, for fear of overcrowding). In the unlikely case that deportation was not possible, my second preference was to go through the proper legal system, including possibly spending time in jail, and that under no circumstances was I going to bribe anyone. It turns out, that I do hold strong principles, and I wasn’t even wearing my T-shirt.

Lady Police Officer came back, and escorted us to an office. A gentleman, sunk into his classic black leather Government chair, perhaps in his mid-30s, in a navy blue suit, was sitting behind a large desk littered with paperwork. This time I let him do all the talking and did not say much in my defense. He also played a few rhetorical cards on me, explaining to me how utterly disdainful he was that I was well travelled and from a Commonwealth country and that I was still not savvy enough to know how long I was eligible to stay in Kenya. Not being able to elicit any kind of useful response from me, he asked me pointed questions about my background and what I was doing in Kenya. I told him that I was working pro-bono as a business advisor to a Microfinance Institution in Kenya. This added fuel to the fire, as he accused me of being "employed" in Kenya, when my visa clearly states that employment is prohibited. He then asked me what I have studied and what my qualifications are. I started out with "university" without saying much else. He asked me to elaborate. I then said "undergraduate" without saying much else. He asked me what subject. I stated "Economics", following which he accused me of taking Kenyan jobs. "Don't you think we have qualified Economists in Kenya?", he asked. I told him that there were some very qualified Economists in Kenya, but since my work is pro-bono, it is over and above what they are doing. I absolutely despise labor protectionism, and wanted to give him a lesson in Economics and a big spiel on the destructive nature of entitlement, but kept my cool, and decided not to go down that road.

A bit of back and forth again, and he concluded that he would have to hold on to my passport, and that I would have to appear in front of a magistrate on Monday. I told him, that I would rather leave Kenya immediately, never to return again, and that he should follow standard deportation procedures. He did not want this card to be played, and accused me of "running from the law like a fugitive". This is where Benson stepped in, and a five minute exchange between the two Kenyan gentlemen started in Swahili. I did not understand much of it, but I did recognize the words K-Rep Bank, which is the parent company of Juhudi Kilimo. I also recognized the words, or rather names, "Kiplagat", "Aleke Dondo", and "Nat Robinson". These are all senior K-Rep board members and officials, somewhat well-known and well-connected in Kenya. Then Benson grabbed his phone and pretended to make a call. Immediately, Blue suited official signaled Benson to stop with his left hand, and their Swahili exchange intensified a little bit, before coming to a sudden end. Blue suited guy turned to me and told me that he will extend my visa until August because he believes that Benson is a good man, and because he believes that I am doing a service to Kenya. He took out a couple of stamps from his drawer, made a bunch of scribbles on my passport, and just like that, with just a few strokes of a pen, I was eligible to stay in Kenya until August 7.

He also warned us that he will be looking out for me and this "Nat Robinson", and that we should ensure that we all have the correct special permits to do what we are doing in Kenya (I’m not quite sure, but I think I read somewhere that one needs a permit to urinate in one’s own bathroom). Still shocked by this bizarre twist, I thanked him profusely. Once he had handed my passport back to me, with a solid extension until August 7th which I double checked, I secured it in my deepest pocket, and told him in a polite tone that he was also doing great work for Kenya, and that there should be more officers like him. Once we left his office, Benson gave me a "debrief" (apologies for yet another consulting term in this post). Apparently Benson told him that he was a lawyer, and pulled out a bunch of big names including K-Rep Bank, and the Attorney General, counter intimidating our blue suited friend. Blue suited friend clearly did not want to take any chances, even though I sense that he understood that we were probably bluffing. He fell into line.

As I mentioned earlier, Benson gets a solid AAA* for stepping in to resolve this situation. It was a great bluff to play and I can’t think of any other tactic which would have resolved the situation so swiftly. In my two months with Benson, we have had our fair share of friction. This usually happens after his drivers try to charge me 800 for a trip to Westlands (a distant but trendy and upmarket suburb of Nairobi) which I usually pay 500 for, and never more than 600. After the third such experience, I started giving Benson the cold shoulder, and started building relationships with other cab drivers. This experience however, creates a new level of respect and a new bucket of value (can’t help but use consulting jargon) for Benson. For those of you looking for a solid cab service in Nairobi, always remember to choose Benson from Playa Tours.

Now to the core problem of corruption and how we can resolve it. I don’t think I have a concrete solution. It’s a deeply entrenched and very challenging problem to solve, but I can provide a few thought starters based on some of my knowledge and experiences. My top down hypothesis (more consulting terms - my apologies) is that “we”, the consumers of corruption are the problem, and that heavy bottom-up collective action is required to get us out of this mess (think strong leadership, role models, media, marketing, etc. in the short-term, and education, economic growth, etc. in the long-term). I have seen some institutional successes against corruption, but these are only a few bright spots, and the vast majority of the field remains deeply entrenched in darkness, and any institutional efforts to bring things out of this abyss have been largely futile. We, the consumers, are the one's fueling this vicious cycle (hypocrites – as some might call us). On the one hand we don’t like the negative social externalities created by corruption, which at their very extreme have led to failed states (Somalia – gone, forgotten and abandoned ; Afghanistan – who will put Humpty Dumpty back together, with all that electoral fraud, and system of rent distribution? ; Pakistan – Next?), yet on an individual basis we will not have it any other way (Sounds too simple? Let’s try to make it a bit profound with a few examples and stories).

The classic institutional success story to battle corruption is the Motorway Police in Pakistan. FYI, when Pakistan constructed its first fancy intra-city highway between Lahore and Islamabad in the 90’s, it decided to build a police force from scratch so that motorists on this new road did not have to get hassled by the cops, as was common on all the other national highways. It has been so successful, that every good Public Administration and Public Policy program teaches a case on it. The concept is simple and 4 pillared. Hire the right people from scratch (through rigorous interviews and psycho-metric testing, I would imagine), pay them well (2x to 3 x market wage might be the sweet spot), train them well (to be professional and especially to be values driven), and finally, institute the right controls and punishment (e.g. random spot checks, complaint channels, etc.). The reason why it's been so successful is because it was entirely green-field i.e. put together from scratch. The 4 pillars are easy to build from scratch. Over the years I have seen efforts to replicate the same 4 pillared model both green-field, and brownfield (trying to turn around an existing institution with the same people). The Islamabad Traffic Police has been another tremendous success story, which was established mostly green-field, and is about the same size and holds the same mandate as the motorway police. By contrast, I have seen brownfield efforts at one of my consulting clients, a major electric power utility in Pakistan, and they have been utterly futile. Just for a bit of context, Transparency International’s National Corruption Perception Survey in Pakistan, lists the Police as the most corrupt institution in Pakistan, followed by the Electric Power DISCOs (Distribution Companies), so these examples are very relevant.

Now some of you might want to understand how corruption takes place in an Electric Power DISCO. It's simple. Bribes are the way things happen, for everything from the provisioning of a new electrical connection, to turning a blind eye to power theft, to even going around and encouraging people to steal power in return for a small bribe (classic push versus pull – if you allow me to use more consulting parallels). 40% of the power generated by this DISCO is stolen. The nine months that I spent out there, I felt like I was in both Sodom and Gmorrah at the same time, and prayed day after day for God to scorch the place to dust. If my prayers were answered, we could build a green-field organization and make it pristine, just like the Motorway Police. But seriously, would God or a left wing, kleptocratic government ever make this happen?

So we went brownfield, trying to put each of these pillars in place, one at a time. One fine day, these corruption complaint boxes showed up around our offices, and the regional manager came in to inaugurate them and gave a big spiel on corruption (he was rumored to be the most corrupt official in the company). The idea was for everyone to anonymously report incidents of corruption they saw around them. Soon enough, the box filled up with letters of accusation, accusing just about everyone. A black list was developed, but a big debate ensued over how some of these officials were in fact being framed systematically by the most corrupt people in the organization who wanted to create noise to dilute or drown out their own actions. The system failed. I myself worked very closely with one of these senior officials, who was high up on that black list (measured by the number of accusations submitted) and he was in fact one of the most professional gentlemen with the strongest values I have come across in the organization. I always make it a point to catch up with him when I am back in Karachi. It was very obvious that the drop box was being sabotaged.

Simply stated, evil tries to beat the system and prevails over good. The drop box does not work. Even the other pillars placed in a brownfield environment tend not to be very effective. Corrupt officials gladly take extra pay and more training without changing anything. Even technology has been tried and there are now online versions of the drop box. Most of them have been deployed by institutions trying to battle corruption internally (e.g. the USAID anti-corruption portal & hotline) where as some of them have been deployed by independent organizations, usually trying to battle corruption on a national level (think Wikileaks). The latter have to fully disclose all their posts to the public. Just imagine how anyone can create an anonymous account, and accuse anyone else of corruption in full public view. Anecdotally, these sites have worked well in China and parts of South East Asia, where as in places like India and Pakistan, they have completely failed. There is perhaps something different about our culture, or our values.

I recall being stopped by the Motorway Police a couple of years back for over speeding on the way to Lahore from Islamabad. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I wish I had the option to bribe my way out of that fine. In fact people have been complaining that the Motorway Police is too honest, and that they would rather go back to the old system. So there is a twist in the tale again, and it turns out that I, along with many of my countrymen, am not very strong principled after all. Nairobi is an outlier, a foreign environment where I am not able to handle these highly charged subtle exchanges in a particularly smooth manner. But when the rubber hits the road, or rather before the rubber hits the road in Pakistan, and the Motorway Police officer takes his fine book out, my thought process changes. With corruption being so simple and common place, it’s no surprise that it creeps into the back of my mind and I have to battle raw temptation. Blame Adam & Eve, or that evil serpent.

Finally, and on a bit of a lighter note, most Government Ministries and public buildings in Kenya have a sign at the front gate reading, "This building is a corruption free zone". Interestingly enough, the Immigration Building, which was the setting for my little adventure earlier today did not have one of these signs. I will write a letter to them, demanding strongly that the sign be placed, so that we can rid the place of all its evils. I am also looking to place a similar sign at Juhudi Kilimo's Head Offices, sometimes referred to as "Juhudi Garden's" or the "Ranch". The later reference is usually made by the Jacaranda Health (a maternity healthcare social enterprise sharing our offices) and Kiva (an online peer-to-peer micro-lender, who also share our offices) folks, for obvious reasons. In an ideal world it should read: "Juhudi Kilimo is a corruption free zone" ; but just to bring Jacaranda and Kiva into the fold, we might have to frame it as: "The Ranch is a corruption free zone". Hopefully, once this is in place Jacaranda won't steal our tea and samosas every morning, a minor form of corruption, but nevertheless “a gateway drug”. If this doesn’t work, we can always print my, “I have strong principles” T-shirts for everyone. (For those of you not used to my dry sense of humor, I am kidding. The Jacaranda and Kiva folks are some of the most amazing people I have met).