The new face of Kenyan men

The latest magazine on the streets of Nairobi champions a cause it says has gone unnoticed for far too long: the multilayered identity crisis of the modern Kenyan man.

Oyunga Pala, editor of the new men's glossy Adam, laments that Kenyan men are so preoccupied with meeting the expectations society heaps upon them—to be husband, mentor, metrosexual—or defying the images the world projects upon them (the noble sufferer, for instance) that they are often “not allowed to show their weak side.''

“And over time, you have a bunch of dysfunctional guys,'' Pala said in his office recently, explaining the issues that Adam aims to address. “It's pretty much about identity. Who are we? We have a generation that is not necessarily interested in getting married.

Maybe they don't want a palatial compound. Maybe they want to follow their passion, be a musician or something else.''
“Guys here don't have an alternative reality,'' he said. “We're supposed to look to Vanity Fair? Brad Pitt? Come on.''

In a society of entrenched communal values, the new magazine—the first of its kind in East Africa—suggests that it is time to cultivate something else: Kenyan individualism.

Thus on Page 70 of the November issue, the liberated Kenyan man, free from the notion that cooking is women's work, can learn how to compose perfect pain purdue, or French toast.

He can read about Jack Ojiambo, a lawyer, jazz DJ and aspiring politician who confesses on Page 15, “Last week I was persuaded to join weight watchers.''

Or, he can simply enjoy some “me time'' gazing at the new Mitsubishi Evolution, lovingly photographed on Page 46.

The existence of Adam underscores the fact that amid the staggering poverty of sub-Saharan Africa, there is also a middle class that has grown in recent years along with the region's economies.

According to World Bank estimates, the middle class had 12.8 million members in 2000 and is projected to reach 43 million by 2030.

With that growth has come a demand for middle-class comforts, including 24-hour shopping centres and movie theatres.

The South African publisher Media 24 noticed the market and, besides Adam, launched a travel magazine called Twende targeted at Kenyan vacationers.

In Nairobi and other cities across Kenya, Adam has sold more quickly than its editors say they expected, and seemingly faster than US and European imports such as Men's Health, Maxim and GQ, which often languish dusty for weeks at magazine stands.

Beyond reaching the original target audience of Kenya's upper middle class, the magazine, which costs about $3.50, has done at least as well among aspiring young college graduates and progressive-minded lower-income Kenyans, Pala said.

The magazine, which promises “affirmative action for men'', has also appealed to another unexpected audience: Kenyan women. “Once it was labelled a kind of exclusive club for men, women wanted to pick it up,'' said Jacky Lebo, a journalist who perused a recent copy out of curiosity, she said, and agreed that Kenyan men often have it rough.

“I think the role of Kenyan men is evolving very fast. So they're probably trying to address that.''

At a busy newsstand in downtown Nairobi recently, offerings included Parents (“30 Plus and Still Looking for Love''), Time (“California is Burning''), and Drum (“The Artur Saga,'' with a photo of two Armenian hit men draped in gold necklaces), among others.

George Oginga, a computer technician, stopped at the newsstand, where he holds a daily 5pm debriefing with other regulars there. He'd watched all sorts of people buying Adam until he finally decided, “I'll have a look,'' he said.

Besides what he called “educative'' articles, Oginga said, Adam offered some precious escape from all that, in the form of articles about restaurants, fancy cigars and the new Subaru Legacy Twin Turbo.

Oginga, 38, said that if the lifestyle hardly reflected his own, it attracted him nonetheless. “I can't even afford a normal car like this junker,'' he said, pointing to a worn-out Toyota parked on the street. “But still, I like cars, and I know that one day, I'll have a car.''

But besides satisfying the increased appetite for finer things, Pala hopes the magazine will also address the serious angst and questions of identity that accompany rising aspirations.

“We're really asking, ‘What is Kenyan?'' he said. “We know the political argument, but what's the social argument?''
Pala, whose mother was a banker and father was a hospital administrator, has been mull ing the question for awhile.

He studied anthropology at the University of Nairobi, became a journalist and eventually began writing a newspaper column devoted to men's issues.

His inspiration as an editor came in part from that experience, but also from his frustrations reading imported magazines.

He is weary of seeing his own country through the eyes of foreigners, he said. “You get tired of being told who you are,'' Pala said. “We've never made enough noise about who we are.''