A Failed Eldorado: Colonial Capitalism, Rural Industrialization, Africa Land Rights in Kenya, and the Kakamega Gold Rush, 1930–1952 (review)

Priscilla Shilaro’s book is a welcome contribution to a recent revitalization of historical work on Kenya’s western province, home of the Luyia people,¹ and to the economic history of colonial Kenya. After an introduction to the region, in chapter two Shilaro examines how the discovery of gold in Kakamega in 1931 led to an influx of white miners into a hitherto “African-only” reserve. In the midst of a depression, with state coffers empty and many white settlers facing financial ruin, colonial officials undertook to reinterpret and boldly abrogate previous policies intended to protect African land rights. In chapter three she looks at the emergence of large mining concerns, gold output, and its contribution to the economy of Kenya, until 1952 when, due to increasing costs of production and declining output, the mines closed down. Chapter four, “The Politics of Land,” turns back to African land alienation for the mines, and wider debates over land issues such as enforced soil protection programs on African farms. In chapters five and six Shilaro evaluates the economic, social and cultural influence of gold mining on the area, and concludes that local Africans gained little (few engaged as laborers, and prices for foodstuff sold to the mines were low) but lost much (including land, while health and safety regulations were loosely enforced on the mines).

Surprisingly, the reader never gets a clear picture of how pegging, land alienation, and the establishment of mines actually took place. There are a few references to white prospectors pegging out claims, and setting up tents, in African homesteads, farms, and pasturages (for example, p. 144), but much more could be done with this. It is at this point that the land conflict became real, where Luyia and European came face to face over land rights, where debates in Nairobi and the Colonial Office actually played out. Shilaro here missed an opportunity for a very rich local history, and for a more nuanced view of colonialism and the colonial economy.

The question of Luyia ethnicity is a tricky one and while I cannot fault Shilaro for not foregrounding it – it is, after all, not her project – I would have liked her to have treated the category more carefully. “The Luyia” did not exist as such until the colonial period: instead, identity was focused more on smaller groupings, such as Butsotso, Vihiga, Maragoli, and others. Shilaro notes this, and in fact examines how a new political movement, the North Kavirondo Central Association, took part in creating a Luyia identity (pp. 104-5). Nonetheless, she too often describes how “the Luyia” reacted to, and were affected by, gold mining, even though – as she notes – it was only “the local Isukha and Idakho who lost substantial land to mining concerns…[while the] Logoli and [non-Luyia] Luo dominated labor in the mines” (187). Perhaps all Luyia feared land alienation, but the direct impact of gold mining may have been minimal outside the immediate area of the mines.

Despite having conducted numerous interviews with Luyia men and women, Shilaro often fails to draw out the stories of workers and neighbors of the mines. In her discussion of the advent of mining and land alienation, for example, she draws almost exclusively on colonial archives. While Shilaro convincingly argues for the centrality of the land issue, the voices of those who lost land would have considerably enriched her story. More use of miners’ voices too might have made life on the mines come alive.²

Finally, the bibliography shows significant gaps. Given the centrality of the land alienation and soil conservation programs, the work of Mackenzie should have been consulted.³ While Kenda Mutongi’s book may not yet have been available while Shilaro was writing, she certainly should have read the former’s other published and unpublished work (especially for the socio-cultural context).⁴