The Continued Displacement of the Maasai Shows How Tourism Harms More Than It Helps

In order to offer transparency into how our stories are produced and to teach our readers about the importance of media literacy online, the editorial team provides a quick self-rating of the integrity of the articles and the facts presented against the following IQ metrics.

  • Published on August 5, 2022
  • Last Updated March 10, 2023
  • In Guest Writers

Writer Bani Amor breaks down just how profitable (or not) tourism is for the Maasai people.

To sum it up in one word, the aesthetics of the Maasai are iconic. I say aesthetics and not culture because consumption of this static imagery is more akin to commodification rather than a broadening of cultural understanding. An understanding that goes beyond the superficial would necessitate knowledge of their current struggles and education on the colonialist history of Kenya and Tanzania, but such itineraries wouldn’t sell tours. Instead, the Maasai are stuck performing a version of their culture that lives up to the pre-established expectations of tourists. Those tourists might be surprised or even feel cheated when seeing villagers wearing contemporary clothing or using cell phones—that’s not authentic! But jumping up in the air with men to recreate the adamu for a photo or haggling over beadwork in a cultural manyatta, the hut-like structures built exclusively for tourism—now that’s authenticity.

But why wouldn’t you want to buy a rungu or shuka to take home with you? After all, that money directly supports the livelihood of the community, right? And if it does, then that justifies the practice, right? And if that support is justifiable, then that should be enough, right?

That depends on who you ask. Not one person or body that has a financial stake in maintaining the status quo of the tourism industry will tell you that tourism isn’t a necessary good that benefits anyone not working for free. There’s no room for anti-tourism sentiment or even ambivalence among Indigenous communities in travel culture. Besides, where would they even voice dissent? They do not count for the majority of tourism boards, or lodge owners, or on the mastheads of travel magazines. If you’re searching for this information you’re going to have to look everywhere but travel media.

In 2019, tourism accounted for 3.9% of Tanzania’s GDP, bringing in $2.62 billion that year alone, with the average tourist spending about $1,500. Yet, it remains one of the poorest countries in the world, and antagonism toward the Maasai over what the tourists consider to be overpriced handicrafts is a consistent sentiment. There are about two million Maasai people, with most residing in Kenya, but only a small population live in areas where they can financially benefit from tourism. In a 2020 assessment of Maasai views on tourism, 75% of respondents said that income is limited to the few who sing to tourists or work as security guards in hotels. One respondent said, “Tour drivers who bring tourists to our manyattas charge each [person] $20, but only pay us $3.60 as [an] entrance and entertainment fee for the whole group.” Many of these respondents live near Mahali Mzuri, an all-inclusive lodge located in a conservancy and owned by billionaire tycoon Sir Richard Branson, where you can stay for about $2,500 a night. It was named 2021’s best hotel in the world by Travel and Leisure.

Maasai Pt2 _outsider joins the celebration
An outsider join in on a Maasai jumping celebration. Maasai men jump in the air as a part of the adamu ceremony to attract partners and transition them into adulthood, but they are performed outside of this context for tourists. Shutterstock

Reporting on several cultural villages in Kenya, some staged and some real, the University of California’s global-e journal found in 2019 that the $10 village entrance fee is equally divided among the men, with one-tenth of craft sales going into a community savings account and the rest going to the female artisans. Typical monthly earnings total $33 during the slow season and $320 at its peak, and when divided amongst all households, this amounts to nine cents and 57 cents, respectively. “Keeping in mind that [two pounds] of rice costs approximately seven cents and a meal at a local restaurant around $1.50, these examples illustrate that tourism might not really offer a strong economic base for locals,” the article concludes.

MaasaiPt2_Maasai stand
Tour operators and conservancies claim that handicraft sales empower the Maasai’s economy, but locals say that it isn’t enough. Shutterstock

The Northern Rangelands Trust of Kenya’s website states that they are a “grassroots conservation aimed at enhancing people’s lives, building peace, and conserving the natural environment.” Their 2020 annual report claims that artisans accrued $93,000 for beadwork, which, divided amongst their 1,250 artisans, amounts to about six dollars a month. Any amount under approximately $33 per month is considered poverty wages in Kenya.

Considering what they’ve lost, locals insist that menial work isn’t a sufficient enough alternative to pastoralism. In the Oakland Institute’s 2018 report Losing the Serengeti: The Maasai Land That Was to Run Forever, an anonymous elder told writers, “I know the next victim of tourism will be me. Moved, displaced and evicted.” If what the Maasai stand to lose to tourism is land, money, health, safety and their culture, then it is clear that it has harmed them far more than it ever helped.

Bani Amor is a gender/queer travel writer who explores the relationships between race, place, and power. Their work has appeared in CNN Travel, Fodor’s, Teen Vogue,and Lonely Planet, among other outlets, and in the anthology Outside the XY: Queer Black and Brown Masculinity. Bani is a four-time VONA/Voices Fellow who leads workshops and delivers lectures on decolonization and travel culture. Follow them on Instagram at @baniamor and Twitter @bani_amor.

This story was created by Detour, a journalism brand focused on the best stories in Black travel, in partnership with McClatchy’s The Charlotte Observer and Miami Herald. Detour’s approach to travel and storytelling seeks to tell previously under-reported or ignored narratives by shifting away from the customary routes framed in Eurocentrism. The detour team is made up of an A-list of award-winning journalists, writers, historians, photographers, illustrators and filmmakers.

(Visited 33 times, 1 visits today)