Warning: The following post contains a bucket-load of bitterness
I hate writing about politics. Therefore let’s not look at this as a political piece, but as a means of venting about the unsteady state of affairs in our country as a result of questionable leadership J So, as I’m writing this, a governor has been impeached several times (I mean, take a hint guy!), a speaker had been kidnapped but found alive after missing for three days, someone is threatening our former Prime Minister’s life, there were four bombing attacks in Nairobi and Mombasa over the weekend, a Cabinet Secretary is being served up for impeachment, hotels are BEGGING for tourists to ignore the travel advisories, over 100 drunkards died as a result of drinking some cheap-ass liquor and, uhm, am I missing anything? Well, fill the rest in for yourselves…
See, for those of you who really know me, I’m apparently sadistic, sarcastic and charming ;), but I doubt that’s true, except the sadistic, sarcastic and charming parts. Despite all that, I am a patriot. I love Kenya, I love being Kenyan, heck, I’ll even say it, and I would die for Kenya. Therefore, it’s a bit hard to sit tight and stare at my country being torn apart, edge from edge, not just by terrorists, but by our own leaders as well. On Thursday morning, I switched on the TV to find an MP ranting about impeaching the Cabinet Secretary for Devolution and boasting about how many signatures he had collected, as if that would put food on Kenyans’ tables. His claim was that the Cabinet Sec had apparently fired an official via text. So they want to impeach her. Yes. Kenyans are being bombed in places of worship, ‘chokoras’ are even now afraid of carrying faeces to threaten me at my car window on our own damn streets, Kenyans are dying in road accidents, food prices are high to the extent that sausages are a myth on break- fast tables and this MP thinks that he should be fighting for the impeachment of someone who fired an official over a text message because he was from “a different tribe.” Case One.
I went to Githurai a few days ago. Please do not ask what I was doing there. In fact, leave me alone. 😀 Nonetheless, I went, and let’s just say I was a bit skeptical at first. This was foreign territory. I had never been that far into that side of the world, and in my mind, I half expected to be mugged, ostracized and unable to walk because of sewage and what-not associated with slum dwelling. So, I had my wallet in my socks, I had my phone around my belt and I had that ‘sura ya kazi’ vibe going on. Yes. I was convinced that anyone who tried to attack me would have it rough. I was a bad man that day. The baddest in fact. Anyway, I digress. So it was here where less than two weeks ago, buses exploded on Thika Road, killing passengers and injuring many others. I expected paranoia. I expected people to be locked inside their houses. I expected police roaming around everywhere, terrorizing people and looking for suspects, or anyone who donned an Arafat. Nothing. Instead, children played soccer barefoot in the open fields, a mother was breast-feeding a little cub (baby) not far off, and some youth were chilling in the “Base” not far away, with ‘miraa’ coating their teeth, talking about the upcoming Champion’s League final which I hope Real Madrid will win btdubbz. Then I realized that the terrorists largely strike in areas where there is a large concentration of the lower-class. They will bomb police, they will bomb Eastleigh, they blow up public buses, informal churches, destroy Gikomba and try to frustrate the majority of the ordinary Kenyans while our leaders continue to take their children to the higher-end schools and sit pretty, hearing from afar about how Gikomba was bombed and not feel inclined to do much because that does not affect their stock of “Hugo Boss” suits or Louis Vuittons. Those who are directly hit are busy chilling and taking life easy. For them, life has moved on! It seems like they do not wait for our leaders to do anything, because as they have shown, the best they can do is walk into Town at midnight, surrounded by a horde of police and pretending to mingle with other Kenyans while chanting, “You see? Nairobi is safe!” Case Two.
I’ll continue the other cases in my next post. I do not want to express that much bitterness in one sitting. It’s not attractive.
We have to stop being ignorant and letting patriotism cloud our reality. The reality is that Kenya has been stabbed. We are bleeding insecurity, injustice, pettiness, pride, greed and corruption. Our leaders preach roses while the people are facing guns. Blood is gushing out, and our leaders just continue to sweet- talk, steal land and travel around the world securing “important deals” with other world powers. Where will we build a railway when our foundation is shaky? How will we process and export more tea when its roots are soiled by corruption? Why should we bother to invite tourists if we cannot guard our rhinos as well as our integrity? Kenya is bleeding: Deep wounds of insecurity and deeper wounds of bad leadership. Let us groom ourselves. This is my call to whoever the hell is reading this. Groom yourself. I will not be cliché and say “Be the change you want to see.” No. That’s gay. Instead, I’ll urge you to groom yourself. Look at your reflection in the mirror, and groom yourself. Straighten every stray edge you see, and then look again. The person you see is part of the next generation of Kenyan leaders. Start working now. Pick up your pen, pick up your mic, pick up your trustworthiness, pick up your honesty and integrity, pick up yourself and start working now. Please, do not fail us.