Richard Waller as Mentor, a Reflection by Paul Ocobock
A few years ago, Richard began telling colleagues of his impending “escape” from the confines of university bureaucracy. He refused to call it retirement; research and writing would continue, just with less interruption than before, he stressed. Tom Spear and I planned a series of panels at ASA and ASAUK to celebrate his work (but not “honor”—he didn’t like the tone that word implied). It was clear from the overwhelming response to our calls for participants, and then from the outpouring of accolades during the many panels, that Richard has been and will continue to be a path-breaking scholar in African Studies.
Among Richard’s most significant contributions to Kenyan studies have been his mentorship and spirit of generosity. Looking back at the development of my first book, some of the most important turning points resulted from conversations with Richard. I remember one occasion, very early in my doctoral research, as I sat with him and Sloan Mahone at the Royal Oak along Woodstock Road in Oxford. I hadn’t even taken a sip of my unnaturally warm ale, when he asked me about my dissertation. What followed was a long, bumbling answer about studying young men or youth or age in colonial Kenya, maybe focusing on migrant labor or maybe crime and punishment. The shorter answer should have been: I don’t know.
Smiling, Richard looked up from his glass and said that it seemed like I had a lot of different ways to approach the subject, and that maybe I should just pursue them all at once. My book was born right then, nourished along the way by many more of Richard’s welcome interventions. And I am not alone; whether through an obscure reference whispered in the Rhodes House Library, a chapter mangled by his red pen, a probing question raised at ASA, or a manuscript reviewed with detail and care, so many of us have enjoyed Richard’s mentorship and near encyclopedic knowledge of our archives and disciplines.
His scholarship has been just as influential, and its impact is felt across a broad cross section of disciplines. Richard has researched a myriad of topics: the early encounters between the Maasai and British, the migration of East African communities and their relationship to a changing environment, as well as the colonial state’s many efforts to control pastoral production, livestock disease, witchcraft, and even notions of age. Running through all these studies are powerful arguments about colonial statecraft as well as the cultural and economic changes East African communities such as the Maasai have experienced as a result of climate, colonialism, and capitalism.
As Richard cleared these paths of inquiry, generations of scholars have followed him. In the past decade or so, numerous works on Kenya have drawn on Richard’s work. Being Maasai, with its ideas about ethnicity and identity, shaped Tabitha Kanogo’s work on womanhood, Gabrielle Lynch’s study of Kalenjin ethnic imagination, Julie MacArthur’s exploration of Luhya cartography, and most recently Keren Weitzberg’s examination of Somali notions of belonging. Both Brett Shadle and Myles Osborne relied on Waller’s research on Maasai responses to ecological change in their work on the Gusii and Kamba. Kate Luongo drew on Richard’s study of colonial law and witchcraft. Martin Shanguhyia used Richard’s earliest work to think through his study of colonial land conservation practices. And most recently, George Paul Meiu and I investigated the potency of age, masculinities, and sexual economies, drawing inspiration from Richard’s writings on age relations and generation. There was a point while writing An Uncertain Age that I lost count of the number of times I had read his treatise on age relations in Azania and his piece “Bad Boys in the Bush,” each densely packed with insights. Richard’s influence will be long-lasting, mainly because of his meticulous research, interdisciplinarity, creativity, and generosity given to generations of scholars.
A Reflection on Richard Waller as a Colleague, by John Lemly
Richard Waller joined me as co-editor of book reviews in late 2012. His tenure has seen three important transitions here at ASR: Cambridge University Press becoming our publisher; the start of film reviews with Ken Harrow and Cajetan Iheka as editors; and now the shift from the Five Colleges of Western Mass to a new editorial team headed by Benjamin N. Lawrance. Throughout that time, Richard has proved an invaluable colleague—reliable, indefatigable, savvy about the ways of books and academics. Right away he brought to bear a breadth of knowledge about African studies and a seemingly unlimited acquaintance with scholars around the world. Any success we have had is largely due to him. He has been clever and persistent in identifying potential reviewers, cajoling them into agreeing to write a review, “chasing up” (his term) the delinquents, while always offering me and other editors wise, practical advice on how to strengthen the journal and better serve our readers and the profession. Hundreds are in his debt—no one more so than I. Ashi naling, Richard.
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Richard Waller as Mentor, a Reflection by Paul Ocobock
A few years ago, Richard began telling colleagues of his impending “escape” from the confines of university bureaucracy. He refused to call it retirement; research and writing would continue, just with less interruption than before, he stressed. Tom Spear and I planned a series of panels at ASA and ASAUK to celebrate his work (but not “honor”—he didn’t like the tone that word implied). It was clear from the overwhelming response to our calls for participants, and then from the outpouring of accolades during the many panels, that Richard has been and will continue to be a path-breaking scholar in African Studies.
Among Richard’s most significant contributions to Kenyan studies have been his mentorship and spirit of generosity. Looking back at the development of my first book, some of the most important turning points resulted from conversations with Richard. I remember one occasion, very early in my doctoral research, as I sat with him and Sloan Mahone at the Royal Oak along Woodstock Road in Oxford. I hadn’t even taken a sip of my unnaturally warm ale, when he asked me about my dissertation. What followed was a long, bumbling answer about studying young men or youth or age in colonial Kenya, maybe focusing on migrant labor or maybe crime and punishment. The shorter answer should have been: I don’t know.
Smiling, Richard looked up from his glass and said that it seemed like I had a lot of different ways to approach the subject, and that maybe I should just pursue them all at once. My book was born right then, nourished along the way by many more of Richard’s welcome interventions. And I am not alone; whether through an obscure reference whispered in the Rhodes House Library, a chapter mangled by his red pen, a probing question raised at ASA, or a manuscript reviewed with detail and care, so many of us have enjoyed Richard’s mentorship and near encyclopedic knowledge of our archives and disciplines.
His scholarship has been just as influential, and its impact is felt across a broad cross section of disciplines. Richard has researched a myriad of topics: the early encounters between the Maasai and British, the migration of East African communities and their relationship to a changing environment, as well as the colonial state’s many efforts to control pastoral production, livestock disease, witchcraft, and even notions of age. Running through all these studies are powerful arguments about colonial statecraft as well as the cultural and economic changes East African communities such as the Maasai have experienced as a result of climate, colonialism, and capitalism.
As Richard cleared these paths of inquiry, generations of scholars have followed him. In the past decade or so, numerous works on Kenya have drawn on Richard’s work. Being Maasai, with its ideas about ethnicity and identity, shaped Tabitha Kanogo’s work on womanhood, Gabrielle Lynch’s study of Kalenjin ethnic imagination, Julie MacArthur’s exploration of Luhya cartography, and most recently Keren Weitzberg’s examination of Somali notions of belonging. Both Brett Shadle and Myles Osborne relied on Waller’s research on Maasai responses to ecological change in their work on the Gusii and Kamba. Kate Luongo drew on Richard’s study of colonial law and witchcraft. Martin Shanguhyia used Richard’s earliest work to think through his study of colonial land conservation practices. And most recently, George Paul Meiu and I investigated the potency of age, masculinities, and sexual economies, drawing inspiration from Richard’s writings on age relations and generation. There was a point while writing An Uncertain Age that I lost count of the number of times I had read his treatise on age relations in Azania and his piece “Bad Boys in the Bush,” each densely packed with insights. Richard’s influence will be long-lasting, mainly because of his meticulous research, interdisciplinarity, creativity, and generosity given to generations of scholars.
A Reflection on Richard Waller as a Colleague, by John Lemly
Richard Waller joined me as co-editor of book reviews in late 2012. His tenure has seen three important transitions here at ASR: Cambridge University Press becoming our publisher; the start of film reviews with Ken Harrow and Cajetan Iheka as editors; and now the shift from the Five Colleges of Western Mass to a new editorial team headed by Benjamin N. Lawrance. Throughout that time, Richard has proved an invaluable colleague—reliable, indefatigable, savvy about the ways of books and academics. Right away he brought to bear a breadth of knowledge about African studies and a seemingly unlimited acquaintance with scholars around the world. Any success we have had is largely due to him. He has been clever and persistent in identifying potential reviewers, cajoling them into agreeing to write a review, “chasing up” (his term) the delinquents, while always offering me and other editors wise, practical advice on how to strengthen the journal and better serve our readers and the profession. Hundreds are in his debt—no one more so than I. Ashi naling, Richard.