Reflections & Deflections

Fire and Ice

2012-02-09T18:29:00.000+03:00

Recently while chatting to a colleague about relationships, he mentioned that he is not in a relationship because he has not met a woman who shares in his tastes or is at his intellectual level. He went on to say that he hopes to one day meet a woman who shares in his hobbies and interests so that in future he will not get bored with or of her. This got me thinking about my own relationship and realized how different I am in some aspects to my wife. This reminded me of a poem I studied in college, Fire and Ice, by Edmund Spenser. OK, I know that interpretations are varied, and some will claim that it is about unrequited love, but the good thing with me is that at times I choose to interpret things the way I want to. My interpretation (I recall, contested bitterly by students and the teacher then) is that opposites can live together. So here is the poem, and let me know how you'd interpret it!

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
how comes it then that this her cold so great
is not dissolv'd through my so hot desire,
but harder grows, the more I her entreat?

Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
is not delayed by her heart frozen cold,
but that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
and feel my flames augmented manifold?

What more miraculous thing may be told
that fire, which all thing melts, should harden ice:
and ice which is congealed with senseless cold,
should kindle fire by wonderful device?

Such is the pow'r of love in gentle mind
that it can alter all the course of kind.

4 Pointer For A 19yr Old Wannabe [Back Then]

2012-01-26T18:18:00.000+03:00

Yes, I know it has been awhile but will nevertheless not bore anybody with any details on why I had gone awol in the blogosphere. I might not have left much evidence behind but I was able to peep (and on a few occasions leave some comments) on some of your blogs but for those I never geto to say happy new year to, well here it is: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

And because a new year brings with it great expectations and some of us even go as far as making resolutions and creating visions and philosophies for the new year, this year I decided to do the opposite. To go back in time - not physically but in doing the so called resolution thing.

Sometimes in December I went to visit in my rural home. And while there, I came across some gem. My dad, while getting rid of junk from years gone by, had unearthed an old piece of paper dating back to the year after I had just finished high school. In this paper, I had typed (using a typewriter as it would be years before I actually touched a computer) four slogans that I thought will carry me through college and life. So many years later, holding this yellowish piece of paper than my youngest brother had managed to save from an intended fire, it downed on me that these four slogans are still relevant to my life, in fact even more so today now that life has over the years made me more cynical. And so for my 2012 reflections, I go back in time to when I was 19 years and say that, several jobs, a wife, 2 kids, wider girth, and many a grey hair later, this is what I still want to have in my life:

1. Easy Does It
"Problems or any crisis that needs solutions should be approached with a relaxed mind. Patience is a philosophy of living, to be learnt slowly and absorbed into our hearts and minds. Avoid hurry while sorting out issues as this may only resort to confusion and tension hence making the whole situation worse - easy does it".

2. First Things First
"Many of our confusions and frustrations are due to our failure to deal with tasks and problems in the order of their importance. It does take discipline to put aside the things we would rather do, and attend to those of first importance first. But the rewards are great, we get things done, we enjoy a sense of accomplishment, and we learn to face issues with a real sense of value and purpose".

Image from here

3. Live and Let Live
"This is a reminder that most of us need often. We need to make ourselves realize that we are not equipped to judge or criticize others for what they are or for what they do. Our only concern should be our own conduct, our own improvement, our own lives. Each of us is entitled to his own view of things, but we have no right to inflict it on anyone else. If there are differences of opinion, treat them objectively without offending anyone through criticism.

4.Let Go and Let God:
"Everyday there are decisions to be made adn problems to be solved. When you notice irritations growing into tensions, tensions into near panic, and old fears returning, this is the time to stop short and turn to God. You can do nothing anyway, and you will find that if you supply the willingness he will supply the power".

I don't know who the authors for these were as I was probably typing them from some book but if it happens to be your relative or something, kindly let me know and let's avoid this SOPA/PIPA thing :)

Here's to wishing you all a great 2012 and hope you will continue reading!

Points to Ponder - On Waking Up, Courage and Happy Vegetables

2011-12-01T19:41:00.000+03:00

As we move towards the end of the year, I am finding that I require more effort than usual to get out of the bed and go to work. My mind and body needs a break but work schedule does not allow it. I generally feel disinterested, and even tired, and cannot do the stuff that I would ordinarily do effortless, without some concerted effort. But to keep me going, there are 3 brilliant points to ponder that I have kept in mind. So let me share, you never know who else might need a push as I do at the moment.

Courage is no more than cussed stubbornness, and I have plenty of that. It means getting up each day and doing what you have to, going on when circumstances let you down, pushing ahead when others hold you back... Lamar Dodd

I have always felt that the moment when first you wake up in the morning is the most wonderful of the 24 hours. No matter how weary you feel, you possess the certainty that anything may happen. The fact that it practically always doesn't, matters not one jot. The possibility is there. Monica Baldwin in I Leap Over The Wall

People need trouble - a little frustration to sharpen the spirit on, toughen it. Artists do, I don't mean you need to live in a rat hole or gutter, but you have to learn fortitude, endurance. Only vegetables are happy - William Faulkner

I actually think I want to be like this!

Do you have an interesting passage that pushes you on when you don't feel like it? Please share

Walk With Kings But Don't Lose The Common Touch

2011-11-13T18:24:00.000+03:00

Hmm, here is a story that last week opened my eyes to how different we are and how we can easily assume that all of us are intrigued by the same stuff. Last Saturday I decided to meet a friend for a drink in town. He had in his company two (beautiful) ladies with whom we chatted with about the various topics that people who have just met for the first time over a drink chat about. Politics, celebrities, weather, music and other stuff.

The conversation however took an interesting turn when, talking about public transport, I mentioned that I once had a conversation with someone who grew up in Nairobi but had never been in public transport until she finished her college education. I was thus surprised when one of the ladies confessed that she had never been in public transport (bus or matatu). I was a bit curious and tried to inquire whether, growing up she had never been curious and had the urge to jump into a matatu or bus and go whenever. No. Yes, I am aware that there are people who have been born into privilege but I assumed that even if your parents had you wrapped under a cocoon of privilege, there will be that "rebellious" streak to stray and see the "other" side of the world? How the rest of the country lived? No, she said, why should she see poverty? She asked. I was lost for word. Whenever I travel to any city or town on business, I usually refuse to be confined to my hotel room and conference facilities and try to go the "masses" side of town, to witness the pulse, the color of that town as I know these are not found on the posh side. No, she said, she is never that curious, not in the least interested.

This is in no away an attempt to judge someone or try to be pious and call others vain, just one of those times that I remind myself that we are different. As for me, "If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;"

A Blog, Immaturity and Blood

2011-10-25T17:18:00.000+03:00

It has been a while since I was on this blog, or any other blog for example. I will not bore you with details of how busy my life was but in between the everyday "busyness" of life, I found time to discover one very interesting blog, Project 44 - Eve and Adam. I have previously seen the people who blog there leave comments on my blog and even though I had meaning to click on their link, for some time I never got round to doing it. So one day I clicked on the link. I say the blog is interesting because it is not common (at least for me) to find some local bloggers objectively discussing issues of relationships in a reasonable manner. Most of the local blog posts I come across on these issues tend to be about whining about how (especially marriages) are a dying institution and mostly highlight the negative. But maybe that is what readers are interesting in reading. So for me it was like a breadth of fresh air to come across this blog. Please pay them a visit, you will not be disappointed.

One of the posts I found interesting was a post about maturity. This got me reflecting about how many times I have exhibited behaviour that might be termed immature in my own relationships. Ok, maybe I should not be writing this, but now that I am writing this...These are some of the immature actions I have cast upon my loving partner who seems to have the patience of a Hindu saint.

One of the most silly thing I have done in the past is sulk. I know some will say that sulking is for women but truth be told, for many years I have been a sulker. When I was in school I would sulk for some time when I fell out with a friend, at times go days without speaking to him. On reflection, I only sulked if the offending party was a friend I held dear. If we had an argument and I felt nothing, then you did not mean anything to me. I have had misunderstandings with partner and I have sulked. I can say that there have been times when I have gone for days without speaking to my partner. When we finally spoke, we could not remember what was the problem in the first place. Nowadays I understand the immaturity of not wanting to speak to each other.

But perhaps one of my most immature actions took place in the middle of the night on a lonely road. We were from a night club and my partner and I had an argument. The argument continued in the car and at one point feeling I could not take more of this, I just slammed on the brakes, stopped the car in the middle of the road at 2am and decided I was going to walk the rest of the 10km home. My wife thought I was joking but I walked on, until she traced me 20 minutes later. I will not comment on how the situation was resolved but later I could not help thinking about I had exposed both my wife and I to danger, considering that this was a carjacking prone area. There has been other incidents, like damaging something but let me not expose my myself. All I can say is that I have now matured enough.

Still talking of maturity, what better way is there to show maturity than donating blood? Recently I met a team of young people who have decided to contribute to society by developing a blood donors database. I know this does not sound like a lot in the West or more developed countries with efficient blood bank systems but here it is a big deal. Going by the name of Wanadamu (literally meaning people of blood but also intimating humanity), their idea is simple. Wanadamu is an initiative that aims at bringing together donors and patients requiring blood by maintaining a database of willing donors. These donors are then contacted on demand, should an emergency blood appeal be made. It also avails the convenience to donors of knowing that they will be called upon as and when required. Enter your name and contact details and blood type into a database and when there is an emergency need of your blood type in your location, you could be contacted to donate blood. During this month of heroes, they are encouraging Kenyans to be heroes by donating blood to those in need. For me, this is something that we should all get involved in. Please click on this link to register and pass the info round. The objective is to have a minimum of 1000 donors in each of the 47 counties.

A Play and A Song

2011-10-04T13:54:00.001+03:00

My last post indicated that I was going to be watching a play (Wanjiku's Dilemma) by my good friend Oby Obyerodhyambo. Well, I can now confirm that I did go on the opening night and I was not disappointed. And because I promised one of my readers that I will get back to her about what the play is about, here I am (with help from the play's synopsis.

The moot question that ‘Wanjiku’s Dilemma’ explores is, ‘Why would anyone remain in an abusive, dysfunctional relationship?’ This resonated well with me as it is something I wrote HERE awhile back. Oby asks why it is that someone in an abusive relationship cannot simply tear away and leave if they are getting a raw deal, if they are disrespected, humiliated and trod on? What makes a person stay soaking in the pain and suffering? Is it a nagging thought that things could get better if they stayed just a little longer or that walking out could expose them to even worse? What if the aggrieved party decides to ‘do something’ to free themselves from this bondage? Something finite, something definitive, how will onlookers and spectators, who have watched the humiliation all along, judge that action? Will they approve, appreciate and understand? Will they forgive, if that act calls for forgiving?

In the drama Wanjiku is accused of a capital crime; one that her advocate Tunu is determined will not stick. Tunu believes this is a case célèbre that she has waited for all her life as a human rights lawyer to make a point and set a legal precedent. She is determined to use all the tricks in the book, and out of the books to make the point. This is what worries Alice, her mother, that she is too personally involved in the case to assume the objectivity that an advocate needs for clarity. I have watched Oby in action for a number of years so it was not a surprise that he tries to present powerful arguments by both sides and cajoles you as the audience to try to solve this dilemma. The play is a riveting mind-teaser and Wanjiku’s dilemma is shared by the audience all through. Dilemmas have no easy answers and Wanjiku’s is no exception. The acting was quite good for an opening night and the director, George Mungai, did a super job. If you are in Nairobi and have not watched this play, make a point to. It closes on Saturday at Phoenix.

That was about the play, now about the song. Kenyan Mom is a wonderful blogger and if you want the quirky side of mothering in Kenya, please follow her blog, you will not be disappointed. She also gave me some pointers / inspiration through a blog post that got me blogging with more happiness but she does not know that. Sometimes back, she decided that she could randomly assign me a song. I did not pay much attention to this song but I found myself listening to this song by Bob Carlisle over the weekend and enjoyed it so much that I thought I should share it here with friends. Enjoy Butterfly Kisses.

Wanjiku's Dilemma, A Play By Oby

2011-09-13T18:24:00.000+03:00

Something to look forward to in the coming weeks, a play by my friend Oby. Gives me a reason to go back to the theatres

Martina

2011-09-06T17:21:00.001+03:00

The previous weekend I travelled to my rural home where I got to meet my paternal grandmother. My grandmother is called Martina. I don’t think anyone is quite sure of her age but it commonly assumed that she was born in 1910, which puts her at 101 years. There is however a strong suspicion that she was born slightly earlier but nobody is too sure. She often jokes that God has forgotten about her, that is the reason why she has not passed on while all her peers have moved on. She says that at times she tries to catch God’s attention so that God will go like, oh, she is still around! Then her days might come to pass.

Because I arrived late on a Saturday evening, I did not get to go to her house till the following morning. Her house is bare. There are a couple of seats in the living room and then an old bed in her bedroom. Nothing else. It looks like she does not own much and yet last year when I visit her she told me that she is very wealthy. This is because she has children and grandchildren who have made something out of their lives (though I have to admit some of us are a bit crooked and we have had our issues! ). At times I think that I don’t have much but when I look at her…

My Grandma, martina

About 17 years ago when I was preparing to go to college in distant lands, I went to see her to say my farewell. By then she was very weak and could hardly see and I believed that I was laying my eyes on her for the last time. Five years later when I came back, she could see quite clearly and easily recognized me. Her memory was still great and she walked around and even attended to the shamba. Now she can hardly see and cannot move on her own. Someone has to lift her from bed and once she has been set somewhere she will not move until someone carries her to another place. When I visited her the other week, she could not recognize me. Usually she’d hear my voice and quickly recognized ‘her husband’. Not this time. My mum spoke to her for about 5 minutes before she recognized her. My dad came in and just by speaking one word, she recognized him. Of course that’s her son.

I have asked myself whether I’d like to grow that old. Be in a state where all if not most of my current friends and relatives are gone, where I’d struggle to move and recognize my family…at times I tell myself no, but then recognize it is a blessing….

Why I Need A Good Recommendation!

2011-08-25T17:27:00.000+03:00

The other day I was chatting up a friend who has been out of a job since late last year. I was surprised she was still out of a job as a few weeks earlier I had been told that her former employer had been interested in re-hiring her. So why didn't they re-hire her? I posed. Apparently she had received one bad recommendation from her former immediate supervisor. It was not the kind of recommendation that that said she had been incompetent or something like that. Actually the general recommendation was decent but her supervisor had pointed out one negative thing about her performance. Two other recommendations from within the same department had actually been glowing. Because of the one negative, she did not get the job. The supervisor later admitted that if he had known that the one honest appraisal would cost her the job, he would not have written it down as he would have liked to continue working with her. Who knows? She apparently will now find it very difficult getting future employment within the UN system.

This led to another discussion about how someone else had been employed in the same organization and had apparently done such a good job that the supervisor and the organization were greatly impressed. He was earmarked to be a star and many saw him soon taking over the running of the department. Then word came in from HR that after some months of investigation, they found out that the college he had gone to was not officially recognized and therefore doubts were cast on his qualification. They were all sad to see him go and everyone agreed that it was sad to lose such talent.

I am writing this because at times I wonder when should qualifications and rigid rules on processes give way to common sense and experience? I have employed someone with an academic background on science (Botany to be precise) on a community education dealing with social and health issues and he turned out just fine. I ignored the academic background and instead focused on experience. If you have the right experience and aptitude for a certain job, should the fact that you don't have the correct academic background or one bad recommendation out of several good ones stand in your way?

Image from Internet

In other news, commitments at the work place has meant that there has been no time to go over your blogs of late, so don't worry if you have not seen me visiting your blog. I will be passing by soon. In the meanwhile let me sign off and get back to work, before I get a bad recommendation.

On Friends, Compliments & Sincerity

2011-08-05T14:07:00.000+03:00

Recently I happened to be asked to act an emcee(it was put in a such a way that I could not decline). I said yes and promptly forgot about it until a day to the event. Then I was surprised with some "talking points" that I was supposed to memorize. I was even given exact lines to introduce some film. I still took everything for granted until the last minute when backstage, I saw all these people that were to make some speeches busy rehearsing their speeches. It was then that it occurred to me that I needed to be rehearsing and that there was no room for mistakes. This made me tense throughout, a situation that was made worse by the blinding stage lights. Needless to say, I got through it unscathed, meaning I did not introduce people using wrong names and did not refer to the US Ambassador as being from Iran or something like that (the highlight for me though was having to help Alfre Woodard down the steps - they kept reminding me how to pronounce her name. Would she have strangled me if I got it wrong?)

Anyway, the point of this is that after the event I was obviously concerned that I might have made a fool of myself on stage. But as usual, friends came and patted me on the back saying stuff like 'that was good' etc. It is actually only one person who upon my probing told me that I looked rather nervous at the beginning...This made me reflect on how many mornings that my wife asks me how she looks like in a certain attire, and without thinking, murmur that it looks ok. In deed, how many times do I pass compliments without actually meaning it, just because I am expected to be nice. I see a musician friend of mine perform and clearly the performance sucks but I just say "well done, that was brilliant!". I think being sincere in compliments is perhaps not as easy as it sounds, most of the time we will not tell our friends the truth. Perhaps it is only husbands who get to hear the truth from their wives concerning their dressing, something that at times we do not take lightly!

Finally, "Real friendship is exchanging secrets, rolling over like a puppy and exposing the soft underbelly. You tell your friend the truth, and you feel the friendship growing - like a bank account - with each upfront opinion you give, with each honest answer you hear". Adair Lara, Cosmopolitan

Boy and Seven Things

2011-07-25T19:36:00.001+03:00

It has been a while since I posted anything here, this is what happens when you get quite busy and don't have much to write about...ok, I have stuff to write about but just have not had the time. Anyway, a few days back I got to watch Taika Waititi's film Boy, and I will not be exaggerating when I say this is one of the best films I have watched in a long time. I am not saying this just because I had the privilege of meeting Taika and hosting him on a Q and A session after the screening of the film during the launch of the FilmAid and Film Forward / Sundance Institute festival in Nairobi but if you have ever seen a film done so simply, with crazy illustrations and fantasy yet still serious enough to drive home some universal values, then this is it.

If you can get your hand on this film, I definitely recommend it!

While I was away, one Woolie did a blog post and decided to tag me on it. Now I have been tagged on these kind of posts before (I must say am quite indifferent to this types of posts) and generally ignored them with the exception of one. Anyway, I thought why don't I indulge Woolie because she runs a good blog and so here I am (rather sheepishly I must add - no pun intended Woolie). These are the so called rules

Thank and link back to the person who posted you the award.
Share seven things about yourself
Spread the Love and honour
Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award.

I have actually done the first one already I think. I will do the second one and then pretend I did not notice the last two. Seven things about myself

1. I don't believe in organized religion (but strangely believe in both the creation story and the fact that the world has evolved over 4.5 billion years)

2. Contrary to perception that all Luos are in love with fish, it is one of my least favorite dishes

3. I am quite shy and fear being in front of crowds - despite the fact that I have been a stage actor, storyteller and recited poetry to packed auditoriums. I am quite lousy at making friends as a result.

4. My secret ambition is to be a writer - everything else is just but marking time (over 30 years and 2 kids later!)

5. I find snakes beautiful (but would still love to eat one cooked in a proper way! - ok, just kidding about the eating part)

6. I once starved that I ate bread gone stale with mould and untreated water

7. I really did not believe I could come up with 7 things about me

Now y'all can tag yourselves and enjoy!

Eggs and Math: Life is Now Cool

2011-06-28T19:06:00.001+03:00

It is not uncommon for us to look at the young people, and especially kids growing up today, and quip on how easy they are having it today. We often speak with some nostalgia about how life was tough back in the days and how we walked for five kilometers to school, were canned by teachers, showered with cold water and endured bullying. Or how we only ate one meal while today our kids have access to sausages and eggs in the fridge the whole day. Of course when our parents sit us down, they paint an even tougher pictures, walking for twenty kilometers to encounter some tough colonial discipline masters.

Of course at times we exaggerate. Anyway, to give a picture of how life has evolved over the years and become more easy, I recently came across a demonstration of this fact illustrated through the teaching of maths. Below is a rather hilarious depiction courtesy of a Peter Murimi who sent this to my inbox. Amuse yourselves and let me know if you think these stories from the past are often over-exaggerated.

History of Mathematics in Kenya

Last week I purchased a drink at a supermarket for shs. 55.00. The counter girl took my shs. 100 note. I then pulled shs. 5 from my pocket and gave it to her. She sat there holding the tiny coin, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me a shs. 50 note, but she hailed the supervisor for help. Why do I tell you this?

Because of the evolution in teaching math since the 1980s:

Teaching Math In The Early 1980s

A farmer sells a tray of eggs for shs. 100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit?

Teaching Math In The Mid-1980s

A farmer sells a tray of eggs for shs. 100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or shs. 80. What is his profit?

Teaching Math In The Early 1990s

A farmer sells a tray of eggs for shs. 100. His cost of production is shs.
80. Did he make a profit?

Teaching Math In The Mid-1990s

A farmer sells a tray of eggs for shs. 100. His cost of production is shs.
80 and his profit is shs. 20. Your assignment: *underline the number 20.*

Teaching Math In The Early 2000s

A farmer exploits a flock of chickens with a selfish, profit-driven motive.
As a result he makes shs. 20 for every tray of eggs he sells. What do you think of this way of making a living considering increased animal rights advocacy? (NB: There are no wrong answers and if crying for the miserable chickens makes you feel ok, go right ahead).

Teaching Math From 2010

(Not to be attempted by pampered private school brats). Same question as number 5 but if you have special needs or just feel you are a victim of tribal/political incorrectness, social class, historical injustice, gender etc, then don't answer and the correct answer will be provided for you.

Cartoons from Cartoonstock.com

Small Talk, Plastic Smiles

2011-06-20T12:07:00.000+03:00

Many people who meet me for the first time say that I am a quiet person. My wife often tells me that her friends say that her husband is the shy and silent type, never speaking unless spoken to. And that even then, my responses are short and curt. She tells them that they don't know Charles. Those who know me better hold the opposite view. That I am talkative, full of opinion and argumentative. I quietly smile to myself when I hear these comments.

To be honest, my problem has always been with small talk. I find myself in many situations where I am just there, with nothing to say. It is for these reasons that I hate cocktails or networking events where I hardly know anybody. I find it quite difficult to walk up to a stranger and start chatting without any specific agenda. When I was a kid, whenever I joined a new school, I would keep to myself for sometime,not really mingling with other kids until much later when we got to know each other well and I identified those that I thought I shared with a common interest. When I actually think about in now, both in my primary school days, high school and even through college, my friends were drawn from a small circle. I was not the type who was friends with the whole school.

This set-up suited me fine until I started to get into management positions. When I worked for FilmAid as the Programme Manager for their Kakuma programme, I suddenly found myself being invited to events simply by virtue of my position to represent the organization. Now I had to serve some bitings and wine and mingle with other heads of organizations and government people and make small talk. I survived this however because Kakuma was a small community and everyone soon got to know everyone. Furthermore, I more or less interacted with these people in the course of my day to day work. After a few weeks I was familiar with everybody who mattered. But after sometime I was moved to the Nairobi office as the Country Manager. Now I was being invited to all manner of events to mingle with new sets of Country Representatives, Government people, donors ambassadors e.t.c. And because these were not people I saw on a daily basis, the conversations became even more difficult. I remember once being invited to an event at the US Ambassador's residence and discovering to my horror that I knew almost nobody at the event (luckily my wife had tagged along). I was relieved when later in the evening I met two guys I knew and they were able to introduce me to more people.

Networking in events has always been the most difficult part of my job descriptions. Don't get me wrong, I can seek out an organization that I think will be useful to me, make formal contact and discuss business. Later we might even become friends. I am talking about the appearing in an event and suddenly laughing and being familiar with everybody type of networking. I find that it involves pretense and wearing a fake smile. After some time my jaws begin to hurt.

When I moved from FilmAid, I thought I was now going to spend most of my time implementing projects and doing less plastic smiles. But with transitions in the organization, I once again find myself having to do this. As I write this, an invitation to an event at the end of the week has just landed on my desk. But as is the story of my life, I just have to keep learning, even if it learning some of the stuff I find ridiculous. I wish I was my smaller brother Biko...He is the type who walks into a room full of 100 strangers and in less than 10 minutes, he knows all of them...and they know him!

Image courtesy of this site

Blue Or Pink, Does It Matter? Should It?

2011-06-05T22:38:00.000+03:00

It is difficult gossiping with your spouse when you are both busy with work and have two demanding daughters at home. So my wife and I find getting stuck in the evening traffic as the best time for spouse gossip. So here we were stuck in traffic the other day when my wife starts telling me of some of her friends’ desires for kids. Apparently one of her friends was looking for someone to advice her how she can conceive a baby girl. So far she has four boys but she is desperate for a girl. Short of knowing the sex of the child at conception and deciding to abort if it is not the favorable gender, I really have no answer for this. A while back she told me about another friend who upon noticing that my wife had a “cute girl”, was now also looking for a girl. I think when some women see kids happily playing around they start to suddenly crave for a kid like one would crave for a chocolate or something like that. Then there is also a fellow we both know who has 4 girls with his wife. He also has ‘a few’ other girls with several mistresses, girls he has apparently sired as he desperately looks for a boy child. He is a good businessman and I think he might be looking for a son who will one day inherit his wealth.

My wife herself has on several occasions talked about her desire to have one last kid, a boy, despite my insisting that the two girls we have should be enough. The times are becoming difficult on the economic front and I am also not getting any younger so when this comes up I usually remember to make an urgent call and conveniently extract myself from that conversation.

Anyway, for me the question is whether it really should matter whether you have a son or girl. I know that this is a big issue in some cultures, like in India where cases of girl infanticide are high. Sons are there to keep the family name and line, to inherit the family business. In India they also bring some wealth into the family when they marry as it is the girl’s family that pays the dowry. In my Luo community, it is your sons who inherit the land. But today I see young men who refuse to get into the family business. Others make their money and buy land in Kitengela, opting to make their homes in other places far from their ancestral land. So in this age and time does it really matter that you have girls only? For me it does not. When my wife was pregnant we even declined to know the sex of the kids in advance. I like that moment when the doctor tells you it is a baby girl. Was I disappointed when the doctor told me the second kid was a baby girl? Well, because I was in the delivery room and saw my wife’s delivery run into complications, I was more worried about her health and recovery…and then about the huge hospital bill that we accumulated  Took me days to notice that we now had two girls, and I am happy with them!

Keeping Up With The Kardashians, Big Brother And Other Rubbish

2011-05-31T21:07:00.000+03:00

Being on vacation for the last three weeks meant that I finally got to spend some time watching TV, daytime TV to be more precise. And so as I surfed the channels one lazy afternoon I came across a show called “Keeping Up With The Kardashians”, or something to that effect on the E Channel. I have heard the Kardashian name floated about though to be honest I did not know whether it is a name of a rock band or sibling actresses. And out of curiosity I decided to watch. I sat throughout the show for a full 30 minutes and at the end of it I still could not fathom what it was all about. I tweeted something to that effect hoping someone out there would enlighten me, hoping that the problem was with me, that I was getting too old and could not understand such shows. All I heard back was that one of the Kardashians (or was it all of them combined?) reportedly made $65m last year. Was this from the people watching that show? Then there is Snoop Dogg's Fatherhood, Girls of the Playboy Mansion and its offshoots etc.

The Kardashians image from the internet

Later that night I tuned in to Big Brother Africa, and it is supposedly the amplified edition, whatever that means. Since this edition began, I had never watched any episode and thought “let me see what the fuss is about”. All I saw is some guys and ladies just talk, talk about nothing. I tried to find out if I could get a sense of purpose to their conversation, some storyline, drama, plot…nothing. So why do people watch BBA? I tried to single out the Kenyan representative, more to find out if there was anything of substance she was contributing to the show. Was there anything new I could learn by listening to these participants/contestants? Nothing. Again, maybe my expectations were too high? I recalled hearing some radio presenter on Capital FM urging Kenyans to get behind their representatives and admonishing those who might want to make fun or mock their representatives. She just stopped a sentence short of calling such people traitors. I can understand supporting the country’s football, cricket or athletic teams at international tournaments, but this? I will not mind being called a traitor.

Image from the internet

It looks to me like nowadays we are content to sit back and watch people just go about doing nondescript stuff like waking up, taking a shower, gossiping and having sex. I don’t mind seeing someone taking a shower if I am expecting something dramatic to happen, you know, a killer appearing in the bathroom with a knife and setting the stage for an intriguing whodunit drama to follow. I like my entertainment the old fashioned way. I like some drama, a suspense filled plot, witty lines from standup comedians that provoke laughter, logic defying action stunts. Stuff that make you know that someone somewhere put in some effort to create a show. But this? Is this not voyeurism? There used to be a time when a sex tape involved porn actors, but nowadays it is celebrities that you find in them. Might be isolated now but is not where these type of shows are leading us to?

The Death Of Childhood, And The Culprits

2011-05-23T14:36:00.000+03:00

When I first moved here in 2008, I worried about how my daughter would make it to school now that we had moved further away from her school. I inquired from the school my daughter attended about the pick up times for her. I was told she has to be at the road by latest 6 am for the school bus to pick her up. My calculation told me that this meant she has to be up by latest 5.30 am. Now, I am in my 30s but waking up at that time is a great challenge to me, so what about a 5 year old kid? I promptly withdrew her from that school and now she wakes up at around 7 am in order to be in school by 8 am. Actually it takes her 5 minutes to walk to school.

But if you wake up by 5 am, you will see hordes of kids at the gate waiting for the school bus. And I am talking about kids as young as 5 or 6 year olds! I find it totally unacceptable that kids that young should be subject to such 'torture'. Most of these kids get back home late in the evening, so in other words, they operate like working adults. When I was growing up, we began school at about 7 years old (we did not have stuff like baby class back then!) and most kids went to a school just around the corner. In fact we could count the kids who needed to take a bus to school as they were very few, but today the ones who school nearby are the exception (I am talking about mostly middle class Nairobi). Most of the time, both the kids and parents are too tired in the evening to engage in any meaningful activities to build their relationships. There is no difference between these kids and the adults that wake up at the same time to go to work.

I read something interesting about television and childhood as well (John Corry, My Times).
"Western civilization took centuries to develop the idea of childhood. But television has erased it in a few decades.

What a child once learned through reading was roughly commensurate with his ability to process the information. In the television age, however, we all get the same messages. A child of five and an adult of 40 can see the same images and hear the same words simply by pushing a button.

It shows in our behaviour. Children and adults now dress alike, talk alike and play the same games. The concept of childhood is vanishing."

My verdict is that this type of competitive schooling (mass factory schooling?) and television (mass media?) is denying the kids their childhood.

Make Your Own Breaks - Points to Ponder

2011-05-12T21:39:00.000+03:00

The thing with taking some leave days is that on the first day you decide to sort out all your documents that have been lying all over for the whole year. Well I finally started my long awaited 2 weeks leave days and figured out, "let me deal with my clutter!". In the process I came across these notes I made about 12 years ago and decided to share them as I found them so relevant to my life today. This is about making my own breaks, from Tom Morris' book "True Success: A New Philosophy of Excellence

1. Define your goals - the quest for success always begins with a target

Image from Internet

2. Seek out those who know more than you - plan to network with those who know more than you

Image from the Internet

3. Pursue your vision with stubborn consistency - the biggest difference between people who succeed and those who do not is not usually talent but persistence

Image from the Internet

4. Make an emotional commitment - without a deep commitment, it is difficult to pursue a dream

Image from the Internet

5. Review and renew your goals

Image from Internet

Do these make sense or is it just one of those so called wisdoms that are spewed at us by motivational speakers and writers?

Hitting Her, Again...And Again

2011-05-03T12:33:00.001+03:00

Over the weekend, a story developed in which a television journalist, Wambui Kabiru, was found murdered in her home. It is widely suspected that it is her husband who killed her and now he has gone missing and the police are looking for him (by the time I am writing this). I know a lot has been written and said about domestic violence, and gruesome pictures have been posted to warn or shock women into getting out of abusive relationship so I will not say much about it. Neither will I condemn her husband as I, like many other people, don't really know what went behind closed doors so everything is speculation for now. However what I ask myself is what drives men to hit their spouses?

I have heard bar talk of men boasting that you must hit your wife/girlfriend occassionaly just to establish who is the "man" in the relationship. I have heard stories of women who believe that being hit by their man is a show of affection. But as a man, when you are all alone with your private thoughts, how do you feel knowing that you repeatedly hit your spouse? Even if it is only once?

Some years back, I was involved in organizing an art/performance event in which my wife belonged to a team that was due to perform. She was extremely late and the order of events kept changing because of their no show. When she finally showed up, I met her at the entrance, and she correctly judged that I was livid with her. I stretched out my hand to grab her, my intention being to quickly usher her inside so that they could get going. She cringed backwards, thinking that I was going to lash at her. I was so scandalized that such a thought even crossed her mind, given that I have never hit her.

I tell friends, if someone hits you once, they will most likely do it again. For me, meting out violence on your spouse is the lowest level a man can get to. It is actually lower than the lowest level!

-

(image from http://www.zazzle.com/ )

"There is a subconscious way of taking violence as a way of expression, as a normality, and it has a lot of effects in the youth in the way they absorb education and what they hope to get out of life."
– Salma Hayek

"Long term domestic violence: Being abused in this manner is like being kidnapped and tortured for ransom but you will never have enough to pay off the kidnapper".
Rebecca J. Burns ...TheLastStraw - support in the aftermath and during abuse

“If the numbers we see in domestic violence were applied to terrorism or gang violence, the entire country (US) would be up in arms, and it would be the lead story on the news every night.”
– Rep. Mark Green

Found Photos: Haiti

2011-04-26T09:56:00.000+03:00

Going through photos in my computer and I find these. Then I realise it has been a year since I was in Haiti. It was a very intense experience for me, going there just after the earthquake and seeing the people struggle to rebuild their lives. I wrote a post about my experience here , here and here.

So for now I leave you with some more pics of what I saw there!

Port Au Prince, people struggling to rebuild their lives

Public transport in Haiti, equivalent to what in Kenya we refer to as matatus. Here they are called tap tap, apparently from the noise the tout makes by tapping a coin to the body of the bus as they signal the driver to stop

The Sri Lankan UN soldiers that manned Jacmel. I became good friends with the commander as he loaned us a truck for the film screenings

Yes, space for putting up tents was at a minimum, so some put up tents in the middle of the road!

Jacmel

Port Au Prince

FilmAid screenings

Of Weddings And How I Got Married (Or Was Married Off)

2011-04-13T16:11:00.007+03:00

Ok, this is how it works here: Boy meets girl and soon proposes to her. He is either rejected or accepted. If accepted, girl insists on a memorable wedding ceremony. My phone rings and I am informed that a committee is being put in place to organize the wedding. As a committee member, you are committed to contribute a certain fixed figure, let's say 10,000 shillings. You can even be compelled to spend a certain amount of money on the attire to wear that day. You are also required to mobilize friends to contribute to this wedding on top of being assigned some work, like organizing transport for all and sundry, making sure food and refreshments are catered for etc. By the time the wedding is done, you have spent unquantifiable amount of time on this wedding, not to mention a fortune. And because you will have fallen short of the money required to pull it off, the bride and groom could have borrowed money to finance the shortfall. When back from their honeymoon, they will be scratching their heads on how to deal with the debts.

This is a typical scenario of weddings in this country. Except the part where I receive a call to be a committee member. This is because my relatives and friends know better than to call me to be part of a wedding committee. They all know that I will either decline, or if forcefully prevailed upon, I will simply go awol/mia. And I normally have my standard line: I have not had a wedding ceremony, not because I don't want to but because I cannot afford, so why pay for someone else' wedding? Of course even if I could afford to I would not want to (but my wife does not know this). It is a discussion that I have agreed to disagree on with many friends but my position is that one should organize a wedding that they can afford. I have never seen the need to burden everybody else with the cost of a lavish wedding if you cannot afford it.

A lavish wedding does not necessarily make a marriage. But all the glitzy images of weddings on TV are making all the women yearn for the same, not necessarily knowing that those are either the filthy rich or it is just a soap opera set. I know most of the women will vehemently disagree with me, but my wife will not. She will look at that budget and tell me, why don't we buy a piece of land and build a house? I did not need to have a lavish wedding to marry my wife. I did not even go down on my knees to propose. None of us wears a wedding ring.

After going out with her for sometimes, I simply told her that if it too late to get back to her place she could spend the night at my place (with some selfish intentions I must admit). But because she did not want the rest of the people at her place to know she had spent the night at my place, she would get up to go home very early in the morning. The only hitch with this arrangement was that I did not have the keys to the compound gate and because we did not want to wake up the rest of the people we shared the compound with, she had to jump over the fence. I think she got tired of jumping over the fence every weekend so she eventually just moved in. And then I was forced to explain to her folks why she was living at my place. And here we are many years later. With two kids (my first born came as a result of the fence jumping episodes).

This weekend I attended the wedding of a dear cousin. All I did was show up at the wedding and enjoy. She did not invite me to be in the committee, which was a good thing as I might not have had the guts to say no given that I hold her in high esteem. I wish her all the best

I would be interested in hearing your take on weddings...

Kris & Rita: Fallen Angels

2011-04-01T15:59:00.002+03:00

I recently came across this video. When I was a kid I liked this song, we had a cassette album of the UNICEF concert and this was my favorite song in it. Now it sounds a bit cheesy because I am older but anyway, I just thought I would share it

And for those who love to sing along, below are the lyrics as well!

Fallen Angels

It's sad to see we may never be the way we were before
We don't believe in the magic of the music anymore
And everything's older now and colder and grey
Oh darling I believe there's got to be a better way
It seems to me we've forgotten how to let our feelings show
We seem to be so much farther from the dreams we used to know
And too many more my friends are dying today
Oh darling I believe there's got to be a better way
Listen to the fallen angels learning how to spread their wings
Now will they make it all alone
Look into the children's laughter tell me what tomorrw brings
For those so far away from home
I can say I'm not sorry for the things we tried to be
But I'm afraid what we're headin' toward is up to you and me
(Cause we got a choice) the future is ours to see
(We got a chance) to change today
Oh darling don't you believe there's got to be a better way
Cause we got a choice (the future is ours to see)
We got a chance to change today
Oh I believe together there can be a better way
Oh if we believe together there can be a better way

African Time Be Dammed

2011-03-28T18:30:00.006+03:00

Many years back (when I was a boy), a group of friends sat around the dinner table discussing future careers as we prepared for our final exam paper in high school. We then figured that instead of waiting for years going through college then looking for work, we could start making some money immediately by registering a company and starting some business. We named the company M-10, because we were 10 kids from Maseno School. All this over dinner, and before dinner was over, we agreed on a date, place and time to meet once done with school and back in the city. This was interesting because those many years back, we had no mobile phones and none had heard the term email. Some of us had fixed land line phones in our homes but we would generally be incommunicado for the next few weeks until the rendezvous date. Surprisingly, all 10 of us made it to the rendezvous (we eventually registered the company and made some money till college tore us apart).

But why do I write about this incident? Because today I find it incredulous that years ago we honored such meetings so faithfully without the use of the sophisticated gadgets that we now have but today we cannot keep simple appointments. A meeting scheduled for noon will start two hours late after a series of text messages indicating people are held up somewhere, something urgent came up etc. notwithstanding that some arrived on time for the said meeting. I am not even talking about school boy rendezvous here, I am talking about professionals attending official functions, husbands meeting their wives for lunch etc. The infuriating part is that we have so internalized this that we casually refer to it as African Time, without batting an eyelid.

Recently during an event that my organization had organized, I called one of the high profile speakers to find out where he was because we were ready to kick off(actually were about 15 minutes late). He casually replied that he was about 1 hour away and did not think he would make it in time for the event. And this is from someone who has made a career pointing out the inefficiency of our governments.

If I remember correctly, there is a quote by Shakespeare that goes something like "I wasted time, and now time doth waste me..." Enough of the rant.

Keep time

The Girl You Never Got To Say The Right Words To

2011-03-17T06:37:00.002+03:00

Something that I came across that I thought worth sharing:

“If you do something that turns out wrong, you can almost always put it right, get over it, learn from it or at least deny it. But once you have missed out something, it’s gone. There will be the girl you never got to say the right words to, the band you never got to see live, the winning streak you never got to cheer, the brilliant retiring professor whose class you never took, the relative you never got close to. It is a long list no matter what. Try to keep it as short as possible.”
- Gordon Drizchilo, quoted in University of Pennsylvania Daily Pennsylvannian

Reflecting on this, I tried to imagine that one day when I am old, retired and seated under some tree in my rural home, will I look back on my life and regret stuff that I should have done but did not because I was either afraid to do or had developed some convenient excuse? Or will I tell my grandkids that when this and this happened, I was right there in the mix? I have come to realize that sometimes I can be a bit conservative and build excuses for not doing certain things that I ought to do. Sometimes I can come up with an idea that I think is really good and then over the next few days, before sharing it with anyone, poke holes into it myself and prove that it ain’t anything brilliant so I shelve it before I actually share it with anyone. I tell myself that the world is full of many bad ideas and it does not help for me to add another bad idea. Yet I also know that at times, for example I have written a proposal that I myself is not convinced with only to see others get excited and invest in it – with me left wondering what the fuss is this all about. In life we can be our own harshest critic.
And was there a girl I never got to say the right words to? Well, let me just say that I have spent some time trying to write some fiction. As I have said above, I believe there is a lot of bad fiction about, some of which I have actually paid to read, and I keep thinking that it serves nobody any good for me to add to the clutter. But maybe with the inspiration I have seen from the quote above, I can give it a try and share it with others? And as Gordon has put it, if it is bad, I can at least deny it!

Is there something that you looked back on and said I wish I had done this?

Points to Ponder: Filling the Unforgiving Minute...

2011-03-07T18:41:00.006+03:00

Just to make one thing clear, I am not a fan of Rudyard Kipling from a political point of view so my admiration for this poem should not necessarily be taken to mean I admire the man's policy on colonialism. But I admire his poem "IF". I first came across this poem when I was in college and going through some hard times. Within a short time, together with my housemates we quickly memorised the poem and each person picked the line which resonated with them at that time. Today I read a blog post about boredom (Meanderings and Reflections), and later I thought about the line If you can fill the unforgiving minute; With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - When I read this line back then, I made a vow that if I lived true to it, then I will always be doing something meaningful with my time - a vow that has been forgotten and broken thousands of time. So today this line becomes my point to ponder for the week. I have also posted the full poem below for those who have not come across it, or had forgotten about it. I would also like to hear back from you on which line resonates with you!

If - Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Kipling was an English poet, short-story writer, and novelist chiefly remembered for his celebration of British imperialism, tales and poems of British soldiers in India, and his tales for children.

Sealed With A Loving Kiss...

2011-02-24T19:01:00.006+03:00

Maybe it is old age creeping up on me. I just recently found out that it has become almost impossible for me to comfortably get a piece of A4 paper and a pen and write something decent in a legible handwriting. In fact, with age (and I am yet to hit 40 where supposedly life begins) my handwriting is becoming worse and worse, to the point where I can hardly read my own handwriting! Ok, let me not be so melodramatic, about 10 years of typing on the computer has made my handwriting almost non existent. And yet it has always not been so.

Growing up I was a prolific letter writer. I wrote and received lots of letters from friends and family. During my college days, there was no email (at least not in the form that we know it today) and a mobile phone is not something one came across casually. I never even imagined that the word sms will become part and parcel of everyday vocabulary. Letters are what kept me in touch with family and friends. I took A4 foolscaps and wrote long letters, in clear legible handwriting. Stories were told, love professed and frustration and advised meted out in handwritings. There is nothing I enjoyed like the sound of the post man calling out my name at the gate, or turning the key into the post box and finding it full with letters for you. It was equally disappointing when you found the post box empty! Nowadays I just text, write an email, tweet something or tag you on a photo on facebook.

And over years, I kept all the letters that I ever received - right from the teenage crush I had to my dad asking me to take my college studies seriously to encouragements from my sister. Aerogrammes, stamps from different countries, envelopes of different colours and designs...When I was much older, at times, during moments of boredom when one ransacks stuff in the house aimlessly, I would open some of these letters and read them. Some were from friends now dead. Others funny. Others sealed with lipsticks from long forgotten girlfriends(Dearest Charles, SWALK -Sealed With A Loving Kiss...). A couple of years back when I was moving house, I discovered that my wife had burned all my letters. She said it was a mistake but I always suspected that she did not want old relationships sitting somewhere in the house as we began a new life...

Kids, this is what an aerogramme looks like!

PS: I wonder whether my dad still has the old telegrams I sent to him while I was in college. Almost all of them had just three words. SEND MONEY URGENTLY. I wonder whether kids nowadays know what I am talking about...

Blast From The Past - Books To Re-Read

2011-02-08T18:06:00.009+03:00

The thing with having a demanding job, two demanding daughters and a host of blogs to read is that one rarely has time to read books. This, coupled with having picked up a few boring books over the last few years has meant that reading has become even more tedious. Especially reading fiction! I was today reading the blog Beanbag Tales on some of the books on love that the blogger will be reading this love month, and suddenly I remembered some of the novels I considered classics when I was growing up. I started reading very early, when I was 8 years old I was stealing Enid Blyton books from the local library, and by the time I was about 12 or 13 years I was done with the Hardy Boys (and *whispering* Nancy Drew) series. I will not easily admit it when questioned by I even read the James Hardley Chase and Mills & Boon series and by the time I was 15, I could not read any novel below 500 pages. But it was when I had all the time in world -- that is college -- that I really did indulge myself in reading. I read an average of about 3 novels a week, especially during the hot Udaipur summers. The following is a list of titles that I read then that I considered the mothers of novels (classics excluded) and that I have decided I am going to read again this year -- about 13 years later!

I read this book in 1995, and then read it again that same year -- The only other book I ever read by Anthony Grey was Peking but it never came close to this. Surprised I have not heard of a movie version of this.

The image of Howard Roak was in my head for days after reading this book. I never read it again but last year I got to read Atlas Shrugged. I still prefer The Fountainhead

I got this novel just after I had finished high school, and this was because they were showing the series on television but the TV timing was not good for me. I don't know whether I will find it a bit cheesy now that I am no longer a teenager but nevertheless let me give it a try. I never read any other book by her so I don't know if she was a good writer...

I read quite a number of books by Erich Seagal but this was the standout. It was the monsoon season in 1995, I had no option but to stay indoors and read and this book happened to be laying about...

I was never really a fan of Harold Robbins but after graduating from the James Hardley Chase type of books, this was the first "big" book I read, mostly the book placed under the table during Maths lessons. Good thing I was seated at the back of the classroom. I also never let people in on what I scored in Maths....

A friend gave me this book but I did not think it was worth reading and kept it in the house for a few days. I only picked it up because I had run out of materials to read. Let's just say that I found it hard to put it down after a few chapters. I remember dreaming about the characters in my dream. Does anyone know if it was ever made into a movie?

I would also like to get some recommendations from you (for fiction that is) on books that you read years ago and would love to read again...

Online to Offline: Can Online Friendship Be Real?

2011-01-28T16:42:00.004+03:00

A man (not sure about women) usually reaches a certain age when it becomes difficult to make friends, unless of course you are in a job that requires you to make friends (maybe security intelligence?). In fact when I think of it, after college, the friends that I have made have mostly been work related, either because we worked for the same company or our work brought us together. And when I started having a family of my own, dividing my time between my wife and kids and my employer made it even more difficult to have friends. I have actually moved in and out of a few neighborhoods over the last few years and each time I have moved, I have discovered that I am hardly leaving any friends behind.

The art of making new friendships have however been given a new dimension by social networking. At first, I was not enthusiastic about social networking and saw it as another of those internet inventions that is designed to take away valuable time that I could have been spending reading or doing something more meaningful. In fact, I argued a lot about the notion of actually meeting people online and thinking that it could lead to any meaningful offline relationships. No guessing then for my feelings about online dating and the likes. After a lot of encouragement from a friend, I got into MySpace sometimes in 2006 and after a few weeks I had even forgotten my log in details. I was then harangued my a number of friends and eventually got into Facebook sometimes in 2008. What Facebook did however was to bring up all the school and college friends I had even forgotten ever existed. Suddenly I was having friend requests from people I had not even thought about for 15 years. It helped renew some old acquaintances but for a majority of these, after the first greetings we have barely communicated except wish one a happy birthday when Facebook reminds you it is their birthday. So I wonder whether it is really worth it in the first place. For me, Facebook is more about maintaining friendships not making some new ones. Sometimes people you don’t know will send you a friend request but I am never sure whether to ignore or accept.

Last year, after reading about all the hype about twitter, I decided to give it a try. After a few days I almost gave up but once I found interesting people to follow and learned what retweeting meant and how to shorten url links, I found it was actually more interesting than Facebook, that is in times of meeting new interesting people. Unlike Facebook where you have to accept friend request before you know this stranger who has decided to connect with you, with twitter, you just followed someone, decided it was not worth it and promptly unfollowed. Within time you actually start making conversations with people whose interests cross with yours. I was thus actually surprised when I found myself actually meeting some of the friends I made online and that turned my earlier belief that you cannot make offline connections with people you meet online.

I still believe that online connections should largely remain online (I am conservative like that) but if perchance you think you have made some interesting connections that can go offline, why not?

"Real friendship is exchanging secrets, rolling over like a puppy and exposing the soft underbelly. You tell your friend the truth, and you feel the friendship growing - like a bank account - with each upfront opinion you give, with each honest answer you hear." - Adair Lara, Cosmopolitan

A former schoolmate recently posted this photo, which we took about 19 years ago, on Facebook and tagged us. Suddenly characters emerged after 19 years to post comments. That is what Facebook can do. I will of course not point out who is me on the photo.

Points to Ponder – My Take 3 on Staying Married

2011-01-19T10:06:00.004+03:00

“You need to ask yourself whether you want to be right or stay married”, one of my friends remarked as four grown up men discussed marriage experiences while observing pigs on a pig farm. We all had interesting takes on how our marriages have survived and how our parents have stayed married for what seems like an eternity while we divorce left, right and center every other day. This was good advice to me as I grew up believing that I was born never to lose an argument, a belief that has fortunately been tampered by age now. Nevertheless I have still been known to try to prove that I am right when I get into an argument with Janet! I did not mention it then (maybe for fear of sounding like a sissy) but for me, there are three quotations/phrases that I learned some times that I have always held dear when it comes to the “business” of being married. I don’t necessarily practice them faithfully but so far I think they have served me well (maybe my wife could be thinking otherwise?). And they form my points to ponder for this week:

“Most people get married believing a myth – that marriage is a beautiful box full of the things they have longed for. Companionship, sexual fulfillment, intimacy, friendship. The truth is that marriage, at the start, is an empty box. You must put something in before you take anything out. There is no love in marriage; love is in people and people put it into marriage; people have to infuse it into their marriages.

A couple must learn the art and form the habit of giving, loving, serving, praising – keeping the box full. If you take out more than you put in, the box will be empty.” – J. Allan Petersen (Homemade)

The second passage:

“When I was in college, one of the professors said to us, his students, ‘the secret of successful marriage is this: marriage is not a 50/50 proposition. A 50/50 proposition is one where nobody is giving anything.

‘Rather, the secret of a happy marriage is 60/40. The husband gives 60% of the time and expects the wife to give 40% of the time. The wife gives in 60% of the time and expects the husband to give in 40% of the time. In a 60/40 proposition, you don’t clash in the middle and say, “now it’s your turn”. Instead you intersect and overlap because you are each giving 60%’” – Robert Scinller, Be an Extraordinary Person in an Ordinary World (Fleming Revell)

And finally:

“Those who want to become happy should not marry. The important thing is to make the other one happy. Those who want to be understood should not marry. The important thing is to understand one’s partner.” Hermann Oeser

And that is all I have to say on that before I start getting mistaken for a marriage counselor!

Imani Finally Goes To Class, But No Shaving Off The Dreadlocks!

2011-01-12T18:06:00.008+03:00

She had been excited for the better part of the month, especially after Christmas, knowing that she will be joining big sister in school. Not that Imani had any idea of what school is like, but to her the whole idea of a bus picking her up in the morning and returning her home in the afternoon like her sister is what was exciting to her. My thoughts about school are well documented HERE (and of course everybody knows that I feel nothing much towards exams as well)but nonetheless for the sake of peace I have had to take them to school at an early age. Anyway, I digress, so, last Tuesday was Imani's first day in school and though these pictures don't reflect her excitement, she was as excited as I will see her in a long time.

Tamia gets ready to take her little sister to school

I don't recall my days in nursery school but I have often been told that when I was first taken to primary school, I ran away from school on that very first day! A few canes from my mother ensured that I stayed in school (and I think I spent the next 12 years in class because of the looming threat of punishment). It is now 30 years since that day and Imani follows in my footstep!

Imani ready for the ride to school

I heard she cried on the first day because she wanted to be in the same class as her class 2 sister. Today morning she cried insisting that she wanted her sister's books. Sometime I try to explain that they are in two different classes, about 4 years apart, at times I give up and hope the mother will sort it out. For now she finally understands that she needs to be in a different class but the fight over books and diaries will continue for some time.

Finally in class

There has been messages brought home by her older sister that we need to get rid of Imani's dreadlocks, they are not allowed in school. I want to see how long we can get away with ignoring that...what has hair got to do with learning?

New Year, New Attitude!

2011-01-02T22:14:00.004+03:00

"How strange it is, our little procession of life! The child says, 'when I am a big boy'. But what is that? The big boy says, 'when I grow up.' And then, grown up he says, 'when I get married'. But to be married, what is that after all? The thought changes to 'when I am able to retire.' And then when retirement comes, he looks back over the landscape traversed; a cold wind seems to sweep over it; somehow he has missed it all, and it is gone. Life, we learn too late, is in the living, in the tissue of everyday and hour."

I got this passage (Stephen Leacock) from an old note book today and it seems like the perfect point to ponder on in setting the tone for the new year. I am not a new year resolutions type of person because somehow they just never work for me. I prefer to think more in terms of general philosophies and say that this is what I want to embrace in the coming year. And for 2011, the idea is to do away with any excuses and just get on with living and doing stuff that I will always have an excuse for postponing. No more waiting to save money, waiting to get in shape, waiting for the right time....as the Nike slogan says, I will JUST DO IT! And folks that is my resolution for the new year.

At the beginning of 2010, I wrote about changing the nature of my blog, writing for myself. Did it succeed? I don't know but it suddenly made my blogging better! And on that note it has been wonderful having you all on my blog in 2010, and likewise I have discovered and enjoyed so many blogs! I hope for more in 2011!!

My Questions for Wiki Leaks

2010-12-08T18:38:00.005+03:00

I have been holding my breath to see if there is anything sensational to come out of Wiki Leaks about Kenya in the past one week but I have seen nothing ‘earth shaking’, except to state a well known fact that Kenya is indeed a swamp of corruption and that we facilitated exportation of military ware to South Sudan, in contravention of a peace accord we helped create. On the Tuesday Daily Nation, columnist Macharia Gaitho wrote what he thinks the American Ambassador here should have written to Obama, ending with the hope that he should be allowed to run for president of Kenya as he does not think highly of the three top men in Kenya.

However on a more sillier note (naturally), I would have hoped for Wiki Leaks to at least shed some light on the following 5 key issues:

Hoping Assange can help answer my five concerns

1. Is the American government (in cahoots with key Kenyan politicians) behind the mushrooming of FM radio stations and Mexican Soap Operas, two institutions that have done more to promote stupidity among the general population than schools have managed to, the aim of which is to keep the entire population focused on triviality and consumption thus being unable to realize that they are being bled dry by politicians and big business

2. Does the American Government think William Ruto and Alfred Mutua were born stupid or it is something they have had to work hard to achieve? Is Alfred Mutua a US spy planted by the American Government to make Kenyans generally look stupid so that no one takes us seriously?

3. Was the production of Tusker Project Fame Season 4 (music talent program modeled along the lines on American Idols) an attempt by the sponsors (East African Breweries) to kill of East African talent once and for all by making everyone so disillusioned that we all give up on talent and resort to drinking thus driving sales up for the beer maker?

4. Did the Obama administration help pass the law that states that Kenyan journalists and news reporters must lack critical awareness, have low standards of education and undergo lobotomy so at to make watching news rival watching the World Snail Athletics Championships?

5. Is Justin Bieber an American Government project to gain mind control of the world?

For now I will seat by my computer,waiting to see if the incoming set of cables will answer these concerns.

Image from google images. If you are the copyright owner of the photo and want it removed, let me know

Pictures Worth More Than 10,000 Words

2010-11-30T16:55:00.006+03:00

They say that pictures are worth more than a thousand words...well, to me some pictures are actually worth more than 10,000 words! Yes, I don't think I can find ten thousand words to describe the cruelty I see in the picture below.

I recently came across this picture on twitter (via @PeterKiarie) and I just could not fathom what it was was that drove some people to do this. A symptom of our society? A few weeks ago, I tried to write about how we are embracing the culture of evil triumphing over bad here and what I could not put in words then, this picture says it all for me.

Tears For The Village Girl

2010-11-23T20:30:00.003+03:00

When the pains began, she had hurriedly rushed to call Nyasembo. Nyasembo’s homestead was about three minutes walk down the narrow zig-zagging path that formed a vast network of paths, joining one village to another, and eventually connecting the whole location. In her case, it would take her more than fifteen minutes to make it to Nyasembo’s. The load she was carrying made her pace much slower. Still, for her age and condition, she was remarkably strong. When the news first broke that she was heavy, many had predicted a difficult period for her. Worse still, many had expressed concerns for her grandmother, for she was literally her grandmother’s hands, feet and eyes. If she was going to be rendered incapable of moving around very much, how was her almost immobile grandmother going to cope? However, by the eighth month, much to the disbelief of many, she was still remarkably strong. She was still making the daily 45-minute walk to collect water, balancing a full twenty litre pail of water on her head and dangling two other smaller jerricans on each arm. She had always been strong.

It was Amollo’s strength that made her standout from the rest of her siblings. Maybe it was the reason why she was the one who was packed off to go and stay with her grandmother Paulina. She had arrived in the village as a gangly, shy, but rather malnourished ten-year-old. With the last of her stronger grandchildren taking off to the city to look for either employment, study or marriage opportunities, grandmother Paulina needed somebody to help her around the village. Somebody who could collect water for her, prepare food and generally keep her company. All that was left in the village were the elders and very small children. The young men were not counted as their general contribution to the development of the household was minimal, if any at all. Yet, they too needed somebody to prepare for them food at the end of the day. Under the prevailing circumstances, it was very easy for everybody to assume that somebody had made sure that granny had had something to eat. So it was that on one of his rare visits to the village, John, granny’s only surviving son, had insisted (over a glass of the illicit chang’aa brew as usual) that somebody must be found take care of granny. His last born sister, Atieno, was struggling to raise her four children on her chang’aa addict's husband miserable wages. When the opportunity to send her eldest daughter to her granny’s arose, she was only too glad. It meant one less mouth to feed. That was four years ago.

Nyasembo was not at home. Though Amollo could see that the door was not locked, that did not necessarily mean that she was nearby. For all she knew, Nyasembo could be in the market, thirty minutes away, walking at a steady pace that is. In her case, it would be an hour before she could get there, probably more because of the hill and depending on the contractions. The pain sliced through her back to her lower abdomen and she sat down. It was about 4pm and if Nyasembo had gone to the market, she should be on her way home. She will just have to sit down and wait. Luck was on her side for she noticed Odhis slowly walking towards the homestead. He was back from school. She called out to him and Odhis having received the message, was soon flying away towards the market. In his mind, he was driving one of the rally cars he sometimes sees on television. Vroom!!! He went.

It had taken Amollo almost one year to get used to her new surrounding. She was a shy girl and avoided socialising very much with the rest of the society. She mostly kept to herself and only went outside the homestead when she was sent, or had to collect water or firewood. But she was hardworking, and very soon everybody in the village had noticed this particular trait. Granny Paulina harped about it to anybody who came to visit her. Normally she was up by six in the morning and by 9 she had finished all her chores. She would prepare lunch at one, wash dishes then go to the river at four. Most of the day she spent listening to Granny’s endless talk. The other women soon realised that she could help them in her spare time, after she was through with granny. The trips to collect water and firewood became more. When somebody wanted to get something from the market, they thought of Amollo. By the end of the year she had become pretty much the village’s maid. Then John came home from Christmas.

He was happy that his granny was now happy, being well taken care of. But he was also a schooled man, who believed that everybody should be schooled. Despite protestations from his wife, over a glass of chang’aa, he declared that he would pay Amollo’s school fees from January (in January the government would declare free primary education for all anyway). Yes, it was quite possible for her to help out in the home early in the morning and late in the evening while getting schooled in between, John declared. Once more, an important decision regarding her life was made over a glass of chang’aa.

By the time Nyasembo arrived, the contractions were now becoming more regular. It had taken Odhis one and a half hours to get Nyasembo (it would have taken him less had Baba Onyango not hijacked him on route and send him to get him some cigarettes despite his protestations). Nyasembo had handled several deliveries before and considered herself a professional. She could handle a delivery with her eyes closed. She asked Odhis to light the stove and put on some water to boil. He was then to look for granny Paulina and inform her that Amollo’s time had come. She should be back from her prayer meeting by now. Amollo’s body did not betray the fact that her time was up. She could have easily convinced anybody that she was only five months pregnant. She had not attended any clinic during the entire duration of the pregnancy. A waste of time, Nyasembo had remarked when she had told her one evening that her school teacher had been to visit her and asked her about clinic. He had said that she should go for regular check up. Nyasembo wondered what men knew about pregnancy. As long as one was not feeling unwell, one had nothing to worry about. Besides, did he leave any money for her to go to the clinic? she sarcastically asked. Granny could not have agreed more with Nyasembo. Amollo never mentioned the subject again.

The contractions were now more rapid, and more intense. Nyasembo found her stoicism amazing for she never let out a scream even as she pushed. At half past six, the baby boy bounced out, looking healthy but quite small. Granny, who had been patiently seating outside was called in to receive the baby while Nyasembo struggled to stop the bleeding.

It was an hour later that Nyasembo (and a few villagers who had gathered at her place by now) concluded that she needed to be taken to the health center. If anything, the bleeding was getting worse. Odhis (in his imaginary rally car) ran to Granny’s to get a wheelbarrow. After wrapping her with some lessos, she was put on the wheelbarrow and Osewe was tasked with the task of transporting her to the health center, with Odhis and two other young boys to keep him company. Nyasembo would be slowly following behind. It was an uphill climb all the way to the health center and it would not only be a long journey but also taxing to the young man’s muscles. Instruction was that they were to flag down the first vehicle they saw once they reached the main road. At this hour, very few haboured any hopes of coming across any vehicle.

Before he reached the main road, it became obvious to Osewe that she was gone.

I was lying on my bed, trying to tune the small transistor radio to Ramogi FM when Odhis bust into the compound. I could hear him asking Nyaseme my whereabouts. Then I could hear his footsteps running towards my hut. That boy was always running, I rarely saw him walking. Too much energy for his own good, I thought.

“I have been sent to tell you that you are wanted at Paulina’s, very fast!” he gasped. My heart started pounding. What could be the problem? Why did they want me at granny Paulina’s at ten at night? What could be so important that they sent Odhis all the way at this late hour to fetch me?

“What’s the problem?” I calmly asked.

“Amollo is dead” he said matter of factly.

I found a fair crowd gathered at Paulina’s. Baba Onyango, as the eldest male around was in an impromptu meeting with the women. I saw Osewe and Otieno making a makeshift stretcher. I wondered why they should be making a stretcher yet she was dead. Did they intend to take her to the hospital at this late hour? I enquired from him what was happening.

The old people, and specifically Baba Onyango, had insisted that she had to be transported to her father’s place, that her body could not stay overnight at the village. A few were of the opinion that the body be taken to the Health Center but they were quickly overruled by Baba Onyango. What would that achieve? He wanted to know. It was obvious that he had had his day’s share of chang’aa and he was going to get things done his way. He was the most senior man in the gweng’ and therefore his decision was final. They were rounding up a bunch of young boys who were going to carry the body all the way to her home. That was going to be about four hours of walking. Maybe five now that we were carrying a body. A bunch of young women were to accompany us. I cursed why they had to pick on me but this was a communal calling. You could not say no, especially to Baba Onyango (more so when he was tipsy!). Was the child okay? I inquired. Yes, it was a baby boy. I secretly wanted to see the boy but I was careful not to make known my wishes. This would raise eyebrows.

By the time we took off it was eleven o’clock. The women led the way out of the village, wailing, singing dirges and praises of Amollo’s qualities. We carried the body in shifts, groups of four at ago. I was not in the first shift and I walked behind the others together with a friend. It was getting cold. I looked up and saw that the sky was overcast. I prayed that it would not pour. Once we were safely out of the village, the wailing died, commencing whenever we passed a village and then quickly dying again. We exchanged shifts very often but not as often as we exchanged the chang’aa jerrican. We were not expected to travel all the way with the body with a clear empty head, in the middle of the night. Baba Otieno had donated a hundred shillings for the chang’aa and we had topped this with our own contributions. As the chang’aa started to take effect, the mood became kind of merry and the load a bit lighter. The women were concerned that we would get too drunk but we swiftly dismissed their concerns. The small jerrican went round to some of them and before long they were wailing the loudest whenever we passed by a village. Jokes were cracked and we bust into laughter, insults were hurled at laughing hyenas while occasionally somebody was berated for trying to grope at one of the ladies. Someone lit roll of bhang and passed it around. I inhaled deeply as one of the women asked whether anybody knew who had impregnated Amollo.

Amollo had insisted that the child she was carrying was my child but I had refused to believe her. How could she be sure? The question had been directed at myself more than at her. I had come to learn that I was not the only one she had slept with. I had taken keen notice of her sometime last year. She had changed from the Amollo of four years earlier. Her body was filling out, her breasts developing and she had started to be particular about how she groomed and dressed herself. A few heads were turning whenever she came down to the market. There were always whistles whenever she passed by the Base. The Base, or Al Qaeda as we also referred to it was a bench outside Ben’s Berber shop. Here is where we relaxed most of the day listening to reggae and soliciting money for drinks. It was also where Otis discreetly sold bhang and girls were discussed. It was not long before Amollo started featuring in our conversation. And as usual, the conversation around girls always centred on sex. And at the Base, there were no secrets.

Peter, a local school teacher was one of our peers who was not always welcomed at the Base. Not that we did not like him but because we did not like what he talked about. Peter was about fear. He was always telling us about how we were wasting our time spending the whole day hanging out by the Berber shop. This we figured was because he had a job. He was paid by some organization to preach to us about Aids and such kind of stuff. One day he had stopped by the shop and once more launched into a lecture about Aids. Then he had talked about the issues of the young girls getting pregnant by the day. This, he had said, proved that they were all doing it without condoms. What did this mean to us? He had posed. I could have sworn that he was looking at me.

When we were almost at the village, a small group went ahead of us, to raise an alarm. By the time we were entering the village, there was wailing all over as Atieno came to meet the dead body of her daughter. I walked slowly at the back, avoiding everybody’s eyes. This was because there were tears flowing down my cheeks.

Point to Ponder: Of Old Age Creeping In

2010-11-21T21:36:00.005+03:00

"The way I picture it, adulthood is a big sleek jungle snake. It swallows you subtly, a bit at a time, so you barely notice the signs. You start reading the labels on things before you eat them; you find yourself listening to radio talk shows because the pop songs they play on the music stations (can this really be you thinking this?) all begin to sound the same. Before you know it, your furniture is nice. And suddenly you realize that you'd rather sit round your furniture and talk about the warning signs of colon cancer than, say, find out what happens when you set one of those plastic milk jugs on fire. And if your child sets a milk jug on fire, you yell at him, "somebody could get hurt", and really mean it, from inside the snake."
Dave Barry, Dave Barry's Greatest Hits

This is my point to ponder for this week. I found this passage from my old college days note book and it instantly struck a cord with me, the reason being that I am finding myself starting to become an adult. Yes, I know that I am married with two kids but nonetheless, I have always considered myself young at heart. I pretty much do things the way I used to when I was younger (at least that's what I think) but nowadays I get the feeling that I am starting to feel a bit older. I find myself frantically looking at my watch whenever I go out for a drink with friends, and when the clock strikes midnight, my heart is set on home. You have to have a very good reason to get me out of the house on Sundays. I hardly enjoy modern music and whenever I am looking for music or movies, my mind travels back several years back. I find FM radio stations boring. Yes, I need to be on the watch out lest adulthood make me start missing life!

The Tooth Fairy Deception & Joy

2010-11-16T11:47:00.007+03:00

Recently my 6-year old daughter, Tamia had a shaky milk tooth. At first it was not clear to me why she resisted having it pulled during the day and was only too willing to get it done at night. The tooth was eventually pulled out and she went into a brief state of mourning when it got lost. I tried telling her it was only a tooth and she would grow another one in a short while. That did little to comfort her and I only understood her position when she told me about the tooth fairy. Apparently if it was done at night, she would have safely placed it under the pillow and the tooth fairy would later take it and replace it with some money. I shook my head. When I was young, we simply yanked the tooth and threw it away in the nearest bin.

Fast forward a few weeks later and another tooth was loose. I got home to find her gurgling water and spitting blood into the sink, tooth firmly clenched in hand, a smile on her face. Her mother had yanked it out for her (she does all the bloody work in the house while I only take on chores that will endear me to the kids). This time she was determined to place it under her pillow and get her money. I struggled with the temptation of telling her that all this was nonsense and that tooth fairies do not exist. I did not want her to get disappointed when she got up and only found a tooth under her pillow. This is the time to start teaching her the reality of the world, I reasoned.

A voice inside however told me that maybe it only wise to let children enjoy the age of innocence, and the fact that I did not enjoy the same when I was a kid is no excuse to deny Tamia the same. I reluctantly gave the mum some coin to put under her pillow once she was fast asleep. The look on her face when she woke up was priceless. I was glad I did this because it is better for me to see that joy on her face, despite knowing that the whole story is a lie, that to see the disappointed that would have greeted me though faced with the truth. And I went to work a happy man that morning.

I wonder whether Tamia used that money to do her hair!

Found Photos: Last day in Dadaab

2010-11-08T15:15:00.012+03:00

Look at what I just found in my computer! These are some pictures from my last visit to Dadaab refugee camp, sometimes in June this year. Dadaab is currently reported to be the worlds largest refugee camp, with over 300,000 refugees, mostly from Somalia, cramped in.

This is how the roads look like.

I first went to Dadaab in 2005 when I began working for FilmAid International.

Posing for a photo with FilmAid staff and refugee volunteers in IFO. Dadaab refugee camp is actually three separate refugee camps, Hagadera, Ifo and Dagahaley.

With staff in Hagadera. Hagadera is the most politicized of the camps and one of the most difficult camps to work in.

This picture is part of a campaign against sex and gender based violence (SGBV). SGBV is quite rampant in the somali refugee camps.

Hanging out with staff

If you cannot eat goat meat in Dadaab, then you will probably starve to death. Tearing into goat meat with Jackie whom I had just introduced as FilmAid's Program Manager in Dadaab.

My last task in Dadaab was to do a jig with Victor and Somali musicians before dashing for my flight. That jig almost cost me a missed flight!

Cat Herders Day and other Weird Days Observed Around The World

2010-10-28T22:57:00.006+03:00

A few days ago I noticed that some people in the world were observing the INTERNATIONAL CAPS LOCK DAY (might as well write it in caps), or something like that (actually it is celebrated twice a year, October 22 and June 28. I could not imagine what one is supposed to do on that day, do all your typing in upper case? Keep on computers locked on caps lock mode? Maybe people who value the caps lock have been oppressed for ages and this was a day to agitate for their rights? A few months ago, I also noticed that some people marked an international day for the left handed. Among some of the issues I heard being discussed were the possible agitation for factories to manufacture scissors for the left handed and have tailors make trousers with inverted zippers to make it easier for the left handed to zip up and down!

I got thinking, so how many crazy or weird holidays are out there? I decided to find out and what started off as a quick Google search ended up with me rolling on the floor with laughter and serious rib ache! The following are some of the gems I found:

January: National Hugging Day, Squirrel Appreciation day, Organize Your Home day, Bubble Wrap Appreciation day

February: World Thinking day, Adopt A Rescued Rabbit month, Working Naked day, Chocolate Mint Day, World Marriage day, Blame Someone Else day, International Pancake day

March: What If Cats and Dogs Had Opposable Thumbs day, Panic Day, Middle Name Pride day, International Goof-Off day, Bunsen Burner day

April: International Pillow Fight day, World Rat day, New Beers Eve, Baby Massage day, No Housework day, International Moment of laughter day, Blah! Blah! Blah! day

May: Respect for Chickens day, National Day to Prevent Teen Pregnancy, No Homework day, No Pants day, Stay Up All Night day, Blame Someone Else Day

June: Leave The Office Early day, Crowded Nest Awareness day, Please Take My Children To Work day, Ugliest Dog day, "In God We Trust" day, Bugs Bunny day, Sense of Smell day

July: International Chicken Wing day, I Forgot day, International Cherry Pit Spitting day, Take Your Webmaster to Lunch day, Don't Step on A Bee day, Cow Appreciation day, Take Your Houseplant for A Walk Day

August: Bad Poetry day, International Nagging day, Presidential Joke day, Work Like A Dog day

September: Talk like a Pirate Day, How Much longer Day, Hug A Vegetarian Day,

October: Guardian Angel day, National Kick Butt day, International Moment of Frustration Scream day, Be Bald and Be Free day, World Toy Camera day, Information Overload day, iPod day, Checklist day

November: National Men Make Dinner day, Sandwich day, Use Your Common Sense day, World Toilet day, Maize day, Flossing day

December: Bathtub day, Cat Herders day, National Whiner's day, Make Up Your Mind day

I came across these days from several sites but one of the most comprehensive site was http://www.brownielocks.com/ Most of the crazy days are of course observed in the US but quite a number are international! Some of my favourites were Cat Herders day, I Forgot day, and Leave The Office Early day. Which were yours and what other crazy days have you come across?

Dead and Buried, Rip Mr. Sony Walkman

2010-10-27T20:41:00.005+03:00

It is now official, the Sony Walkman is dead and buried. To the younger generation the walkman might not have meant much but those of us who saw out our teenage years and the early twenties before mp3s and iPods, the walkman was the coolest thing to a music buff those days. It was the must have thing when in school, college or when traveling. I have not held a walkman for over 10 years but when I read earlier this week that Sony had officially ceased production (I was actually surprised that production had been going on till 2010!), I could not for a moment contain the nostalgia. The following are some of my walkman moments of yore!

My first memory of the walkman is listening to Whitney Houston's Miracle off her I am Your Baby Tonight album in the very early nineties. And it was under the bedsheets, way past sleeping time in the boarding school dormitory. I had a crush on Whitney back then (I can't believe how she turned out!), and on my way to Maseno School at the beginning of the term, I bought a pirated copy of I am Your Baby Tonight cassette at Kisumu bus stand - together with a set of some AA batteries. I had to wait for Goddy's batts to die out a few days later before I could finally borrow his walkman, and I fell in love with Whitney under the bed sheets, lights out. Later on I was to acquire the likes of Michael Bolton and Karyn White, not to mention the recordings from KBC's late date program.

Fast forward a few years later to a small town in Rajasthan in India, Udaipur. To be honest I don't know how I would have survived those years without the pleasures of the walkman. I remember once traveling all the way to the city of Bhopal, a one and a half day bus ride, to cash my draft cheque. This was my first year in India and as luck would have it, the bank declined to cash the cheque as it was not properly signed. Broke without enough money for a decent bus, I took what we called the mango-head bus, buses which had hard seats similar to those found in the old KBS buses. I over 30 hours in a very hard seat, without a single bite but with my walkman and a bunch of Kenny G tapes, I was able to endure the trip. I think I must have listened to Breathless more than 10 times on that trip!

Take a close looks at the seats here, that's what I am talking about (photo courtesy of http://jukwaa.proboards.com/)

A few years later, just about to embark on a 14 hour bus trip from New Delhi, I stumbled upon Tupac's All Eyes On Me cassette, and Tupac was never the same for me again. Yes I had listened to Tupac's music before but playing the tape over and over again with everything else blocked out, listening to each and every word of Only God Can Judge Me and Tradin' War Stories, it took my awareness of Tupac to another level. About a year later,the chap was gunned down but give that album over any new hip hop album any day. Lastly, after spending five straight years in India, I took another long bus trip, 18 hours, to Mumbai from Udaipur, this time on my way back home. It had been an emotional farewell to friends but I had about 100 cassettes in my bag and 18 hours in a bus never looked so short a time! I think that was the last time I listened to the walkman, for upon my arrival in Kenya, my younger brothers disappeared with it. Not that I miss it (not with over 100GB of mp3 music in my laptop and the convenience of an iPod), not with the rewinding and forwarding to get to your favourite track, or to find it has chewed your favorite cassette, but while it was the only technology for carrying music along, it gave me all the pleasure. RIP Mr. Walkman!

King, Prince or Pauper: The Week's Point to Ponder:

2010-10-25T06:04:00.003+03:00

Growing up, one of my favourite fiction authors was Jeffrey Archer. I especially liked his short stories, most of which always had the most unexpected of endings. I wonder whatever happened to him, the last I heard of him I think he was off to jail or something like that. My point to ponder for this week is therefore based on a quote from him, having felt low on energy the last week and getting this feeling that I might be slacking on work a bit.

“Never be frightened by those you assume have more talent than you do, because in the end, energy will prevail: My formula is: energy plus talent and you are a king; energy and no talent and you are still a prince; talent and no energy and you are a pauper.” (quoted by Michael Levine in Take It From Me)

Another reason why this quote impresses me this morning is because of a conversation I had with my brother last night as we watched Tusker Project Fame (my first time this season I must confess). We kept wondering why a majority of young kids who win these competitions never attain the great heights of stardom that these competitions promise. They just disappear into obscurity months after the show has been wrapped up. Is it because they don’t put in a hard shift like those working from the bottom up?

I have never considered myself really talented but everything I have ever achieved is because of a hard shift. Today I see many young kids thinking that everything will easily fall into place because they have some talent. The culture of just having to work hard to attain whatever you aspire for is no longer there. The mantra is more of “don’t work hard, worker smarter”. Not that I begrudge that, put in some context I agree but in the end, it should not be a philosophy of get shortcuts at every opportunity for nothing beats good old fashioned culture of honest work.

As I slack off, my daughters have been taking over my work!

Finally:
Sow a thought and you reap an act; sow an act and you reap a habit; sow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

My Shujaas

2010-10-21T19:32:00.001+03:00

So yesterday was Mashujaa (Hero’s) Day, and everybody went gaga talking about great men and women, patriotic people who have sacrificed their lives for the freedom of this country, gave their sweat and blood to put the country’s name on the map, worked tirelessly to improve our lives etc. etc. But wait a minute, must a hero be someone who indulges in self-sacrifice, be willing to put their lives on the line for your sake, be read to sweat blood for our sake? When I think about those who have influenced my life, made me to be who I am, they are not always those who fit into your hero stereotypes. Yes, I know about my father sacrificing his house to put us through college, that teacher who inspired a dream, that boss who pushed me into the right direction and showed me career tricks…but I am however here to celebrate other small heroes who in one way or another changed my life, mostly unwittingly.

Caroline Mutoko and Kiss FM (and by extension FM radio presenters): Why are they my heroes? They made me stop listening to FM radio and this has made the quality of my life better. Years ago, like millions of Kenyans, I too tuned in to the radio stations to listen to the nonsense that FM presenters regurgitate every morning. Kiss FM was the leading station by then but the more Mutoko ranted her nonsense then, I was put off radio. Nowadays I don’t listen to radio at all (with the exception of BBC occasionally and sports commentaries) and that has helped me keep my sanity. To be fair to her, I am made to understand that she has improved over the recent years, shed off some arrogance but nonetheless I am not willing to find out.

Michuki, Kiraitu Murungi, Kutuny, Ruto and other Kenyan politicians: When Narc got rid of Moi and his cronies from power in 2002, I joined the rest of the country in believing that change was indeed on the way. Then came Michuki’s famous juggling of the liver analogy and Kiraitu’s women willing to be raped speech. Those made me realize that even after Moi, Kenyan politicians still have the intelligence of garden tools. People like Ruto (both William and Isaac), Jakoyo, Mbugua, Kutunyu and their ilk have since strongly confirmed this. They are my heroes because they successfully killed any aspirations I might have had of getting engaged in politics.

Alfred Mutua, Kenya government spokesman: He is one of my biggest heroes. Whereas I previously thought that people who have gone through colleges, and even lectured there, are generally intelligent people who know what they are talking about and weigh their words carefully, Mutua has gracefully taught me not to make such assumptions. His denial about a blast at Wilson Airport, insisting that it was an explosion (or was it the other way round), his bundling of a matatu driver into his car trunk and his creative efforts at Cobra Squad taught me important life lessons, always look beyond education Charles.

Church Clergy: I used to believe strongly in God, until I started giving the clergy, especially the so called televangelists, audience. Then doubts started to creep in. Don’t get me wrong, there are some honest believers out there but the more I listen to the clergy, the more I doubted the existence of God. When I stopped going to church and listening to evangelists, then I found God. Does this mean they are heroes or not, I am getting confused there….

The Week's Point to Ponder: What Money Buys

2010-10-17T22:51:00.004+03:00

I just found this quote from an an old notebook I have had since the 90s. It is attributed to an Arne Garbog though it does not cite the exact source (this is the age of Google so I will google him/her up). It goes:

"It is said that for money you can have everything, but you cannot. You can buy food but not appetite; medicine but not health; knowledge but not wisdom; glitter but not beauty; fun but not joy; acquaintances, but not friends; servants but not faithfulness; leisure but not peace. You can have the husk of everything for money, but not not the kernel."

Upon reflection, I realize that some of the best times I have had, times of real happiness, have been under circumstances where money was not involved. Of course it helps to have some money, it brings all the conveniences but we need to also learn to enjoy our lives without having to buy anything. Nowadays the pressure is on spending, consuming. We now live in an age where we are defined by what we can buy, consume. As I consume, so I am. When you turn on the TV, the radio, open the newspaper, it is always about buying more of this or that. When I walk into a supermarket with my small daughters, they want to be bought for this and that. What is it we really want? And can we only get it by buying it?

"It is not what you possess in life that gives you worth, but what you pass along to others" - Thien Loc Vo

A Dramatic Dialogue With Myself: 10th anniversary?

2010-10-06T16:36:00.011+03:00

While getting rid of some old CDs the other day, I came about an article I wrote about 10 years back, just out of college and full of enthusiasm to influence the world. I wonder what has happened to me since then? Anyway, I decided to reproduce the article here exactly as I had it then and then spend the next few days reflecting on it. The article itself was published by Shikshantar Santhan and it is part of the reflection on an post I published here a few months ago. Let me know you think.

A Dramatic Dialogue With Myself
Charles Otieno-Hongo

When I received the invitation to write this article, several questions ran through my mind. First I thought: What am I supposed to write? Then I started to ask myself several questions. Then I thought, why not simply talk to myself, challenge myself through these questions? This is especially important to me because my early "education" always involved being at the passive end of a process, where I was expected to simply receive information and later reproduce it. I was only allowed to ask limited questions concerning my understanding of what the teacher taught, without challenging the idea that was being imparted to me. Later I was to discover that it is through critical questioning, questioning what I was taught, questioning what I believe in, interrogating my values, it was only then that I started to properly understand the world around me. And this is how I learn, by asking myself questions.

I have decided that the mainstream education model (schooling) is not my cup of tea. I have been heard to say that if we are to generate solutions to the current complexities facing our continent (Africa), we should abandon education! What inspires me to think like this? How did I come to the conclusion that schooling is the not the best thing to happen to somebody?

Sincerely speaking, I don't have a definite answer. Looking back, I have seen people, my friends with so much potential and talent, wither away under the school system. I too would have. I found school somewhat boring and frustrating. The lessons, the regimentation of time and duties, the lack of free time to pursue activities of interest, the atmosphere of fear and hopelessness and most importantly the lack of freedom to express myself.

I found lessons boring and frustrating, because all I had to do was sit in the class, listen to the teacher and take notes. I was only allowed to speak when directly spoken to by the teacher, or when I had to ask a question, because I had missed something that the teacher had said — never because I did not agree with the teacher. Something else that was a source of great frustration was the way my time was managed. I had totally no say or control over what I did with my time. When I was in primary school, my day was organized for me from Monday to Friday; when I went to a boarding high school, from Monday to Sunday. In high school, I often compared my stay there to life in a prison cell, for everything I did was controlled by a bell. I was woken up by the ring of a bell, sent to the dining hall by the ring of a bell, went to play by the ring of a bell and went to sleep by the ring of a bell! I felt that all this was designed to make me lose my individual identity. I was just one of the boys. I even had a number that I was known by in the class registry, number 34. Whenever the class teacher called out number 34, I knew that was me. Just a number.

Then there was the question of fear. The environment I schooled in was dominated by a fear of teachers and prefects. We would be caned for speaking in another language which was not English. We would be caned for talking when we were not supposed to, for being late, and even worse, for not knowing! Our mathematics teacher was notorious for giving sudden tests, or what he called 'mental tests', a total of ten math problems, every morning. If you missed one, you got one stroke of the cane, if you missed five, you got five strokes. I was always missing at least three or four problems!

How did this affect my learning?

Because of the repeated 'failing' in especially mathematics and science tests, I lost confidence in my ability as a learner. I came to believe that I could learn nothing where science and mathematics are concerned, and thus I lost interest in science issues. I concluded that these were fields for certain people, endowed with certain intelligences, and it was better if I kept off. The idea of forced learning and total unquestioning submission to school authority incited a rebellious streak in me. By the time I was in my last year in high school, I regularly absconded classes. I believed that university was not made for the likes of me, no matter how hard I tried.

When I say I too have withered under the school system, what do I mean?

When I was growing up, I had a desire to study law and become a writer. But under our examination system, I had to get a pass in mathematics no matter what I intended to study at the university. I was not good at mathematics and therefore simply gave up hope of going to the university. In effect, this meant giving up on my dreams.

In high school, I had friend who could never get a pass in any subject, but he was not only a very talented artist, but also very kind and warm person, always ready to help others. He would spend his study period drawing biology diagrams for those of us who were not good at drawing. The fact that he never managed to pass other subjects meant that he could not pursue art studies at the university. The system was punishing my friends and me by denying us the chance to pursue our interests at the university level, simply because we were not interested in unrelated subjects. Worse, however, was the fact that my teachers and parents had made me to believe that it was only by going to the university that I would be considered successful. The teachers made us to believe that the reason we were in high school was to go to university, and each year a list of those who made of those who made it to the university and those who did not was pinned up on the school notice board. I was not able to see beyond the university and look at other options.

But don't I think it makes sense to have at least some knowledge in several subjects?

I see several issues here. It is not a matter of acquiring knowledge but questioning how knowledge is measured and determining what constitutes knowledge. Let me start with the first one, measuring knowledge. In school, the knowledge we gained was measured through tests. I saw some boys dash through a three hour math test in one half hours, others completed the test in three hours while others probably needed five hours to complete the test. Looking back, I tend to think that the system was unfair to those who needed five hours! I was one of those people who needed more time to complete a test. Actually, what was being determined here was test-taking skills rather than a deep understanding of the subject.

Secondly, acquiring "knowledge" was presented to me as a competitive process. The whole point of taking examinations was to determine who was the best in the class. At the end of each term, we were ranked according to performance. The competition here was so intense that friends would stop speaking to each other for several hours, simply because one had come out in front of the other. In the primary school I attended, the headmaster would call out the best three performers at the end of each term and reward them. He always reminded us the importance of competition by using Aesop's tale of the Tortoise and the Hare. Those who had slept like the Hare and had been overtaken by other students (the Tortoise) in the rankings would be ridiculed.

Thirdly, I was being given "ready-made knowledge" to consume. In other words, what was expected of me was to memorize whatever was on the books. Most of this was alien to me because I was not doing anything active or creative. I was not given the opportunity to question where this knowledge came from, how it was relevant to me, and what my role was in its construction and dissemination. I was thus never able to identify with it and forgot almost everything as soon as it was taught to me! It became difficult for me to become a model student.

Then we have the question of interest and motivation. People learn certain things for various reasons. My father is a scientist and, right from primary school, there was a lot of pressure on me to emulate him by performing well in Mathematics and Science subjects. But the figures and the technical explanations did not appeal to me. I preferred to learn History. This was because I enjoyed stories about struggle, especially against colonial powers. The story of how the Ethiopians successfully resisted the invading Italians during the battle of Adowa was my favorite, because it demonstrated to me that the Europeans were not that superior after all! I had no motivation to learn about molarity concepts, and here I was in a system that was going to condemn me to failure because I did not enjoy Maths, Physics and Chemistry!

Is this when I started "losing hope" in education?

Not really. I believed that a serious reform in the education practice to cater for people like me was necessary. I would think, "All this learning for what? To get to university, graduate, get a job…was that it?" When I was in school, they had promised us that if we study hard enough and pass, we would get lucrative jobs. The government of the day used a particular song to promote schooling: "Someni vijana / muongeze pia bidii / mwisho wa kusoma / mtapata kazi nzuri sana" (loosely translated: young people, study hard / put in a lot of effort / at the end of your education / you will get very beautiful jobs). Almost all school-going children knew this song. And we were all studying so that we could get beautiful jobs. And yet all around me, I could see jobless people who had degrees! I thought the education ministry should allow me to study what I wanted to, become an expert in a particular field… I mean if they didn't force us to learn all these unnecessary things, then our country would be a better country. It took me a stint in college to realize that I was just kidding myself.

What was my experience in college?

When I left high school, I decided that I wanted to become a writer, a profession that I assumed did not require a pass in mathematics or a university degree. My going to college to study for a degree course was mainly a result of family pressure. Within a year of completing high school, I was packed off to India. I had taken the attitude, 'if people want a university degree from me, then let me give it to them!' Despite my cynicism, I had hope in college. I thought that it was in college where one questioned the world. Within no time, frustration set in. All I had to do was remember what my lecturers taught me! I was not allowed to think on my own. Of course, they will tell you all about original thinking and stuff like that, but then try writing down an answer that contradicts the textbook and see whether you pass! Today I don't remember much of anything I studied in college, and neither do I find the degree useful. I think it was a complete waste of time and resources.

What do I mean when I say that I was not allowed to think on my own?

I mean that the moment I stepped into the classroom at the age of seven, somebody somewhere had already determined what I was expected to learn. Even in college I had to answer questions by saying, "According to professor so and so…" What would have happened if I said, "According to Charles Otieno-Hongo…"? There was this feeling that something somewhere was controlling what I was supposed to think and learn.

This goes back to what I said earlier about my time having been organized for me in advance. In college, I bought a curriculum book at the beginning of the academic year, which contained all that I was to learn. For example, for the poetry class, I would find a list of all the poems I was expected to study. There was no room for me to introduce and analyze my own poetry selection; it would not be examinable anyway and therefore would be construed as a total waste of time. The same applied to all the other subjects I was studying.

How did I feel at this particular time?

I was rather confused during this period. I felt as if I was being led somewhere, with a noose tied around my neck. The problem was that I did not have the faintest idea as to where I was being led. There seemed to be something rather evil in the notion that thousands or maybe even millions of people were being taught precisely the same thing in the same manner, regardless of their backgrounds and individuality. With time, it did occur to me that this process of mass education was a continuation of the same process I had experienced in school, being trained to fit in a well-defined system.

In school, we had to recite what is known as the Loyalty Pledge every week. We pledged our loyalty to the country and to the president. We were being trained in the art of unquestioning loyalty to the State, without being allowed to critically reflect on what the State actually means, how it came about, who benefits from it and who loses. I remember we would change the words of the pledge to make nonsense of it, an act that would be accompanied by punishment if found out. We would be forced to sing songs of praise to the president during particular occasions, and these too we would subvert. (Some of the versions we developed were rather obscene.) We were young but very creative. It's amazing how children can learn to resist and subvert education with natural ease.

In high school, I started to get an idea of what authority means and, even more importantly, what it means to bow down to authority. In my school, a lot of power was invested in prefects. These were the students who ruled on behalf of teachers. They were selected from the senior-most class. When I was a senior, several of my friends were selected to be prefects. At the same time, I was elected the editor-in-chief of the school's writers' club, a club that was charged not only with producing the school magazine, but writing daily happenings in the school. These would be pinned up on the Writers' Club Notice Board. In my position, I was responsible for any literature posted on the Board. It soon became clear that I had not understood my work. While I had assumed that my work only entailed checking other peoples' articles for grammatical errors, I soon found myself before the prefects, explaining why some articles questioning the prefects' decisions were on the Board. I was a bit surprised, because I had assumed that these were my friends. I was to find myself receiving several strokes of the cane from the Principal, something that I became proud of — not because it made me a hero among the commoners (as non-prefects were called), but because it made me realize that authority, justice and freedom are not the best of friends.

These experiences, coupled with the learning experience I was going through in college, made it seem to me as if I was being fitted into something. With time, I came to learn that there is no such thing as neutral education. Education can be used as an instrument to facilitate the integration of the younger generation into the present socio-political system and conform to it, or it can be used as a tool for self-liberation, for dealing critically and creatively with the reality that surrounds us to transform our world. My school education had been preparing me for the former. My education was not preparing me to perceive the world in a radical and critical manner, to understand the power relations between the oppressors and the oppressed and even more importantly, it was not facilitating any process whereby I could engage myself in conceptualizing and co-creating a more humane society. It was the kind of education that would probably increase my chances of getting a job in an NGO. But then I joined an informal college.

I use the term informal college to refer to the new learning process and environment that I experienced when I was introduced to Shikshantar: The People' Institute for Rethinking Development and Education. I started getting involved in challenging discussions with friends, asking questions like, Who really controls society? How do they do it? Why? Who benefits the most and who loses the most in this scheme of things? I call it alternative college, because there were no subjects, no exams, no know-it-all teacher. Everybody was a teacher and student at the same time. It did not matter whether you had a Masters degree in education from Harvard, or had worked with all the major institutions in the world, or whether you were a first year college student, fresh out of secondary school. Everybody was accorded the same respect and given an ear if s/he had anything to express.

What did I find unique about this process and environment for learning?

Hey, I was starting to be in control of my own learning. The idea of somebody or some agency out of my reach, setting the agenda for me, was no longer there. I was even starting to ask myself, "Why am I learning what I am learning?" The questions we asked ourselves were open-ended and this helped to stimulate my thinking beyond the usual "there has to be one right answer" attitude I was used to. It was all very exciting to me. Through the challenging discussions and the literature I was getting exposed to, I was beginning to realize that my education had indeed been a process of fitting me into society.

What do I think is wrong with this?

I do not want to be manipulated to fit into a society in which only a few people have the power to make decisions for me. I want to be part of the process of deciding and co-creating the society I want to live in. Through the dialogue I was engaging in with friends at Shikshantar, I was starting to be conscious that certain forces were not only fitting me into society but also designing that society, for their benefit of course. Hell! It is my imagination that they have been stealing!

What forces are these and how were they stealing my imagination?

For example, by analyzing the media, I learned that only a handful of conglomerates, through news and television programming were controlling what I should know. Through advertising, they were manipulating my aesthetic senses and prescribing what I should consume. I learned that powerful conglomerates, through the process of Development, Education and the mass media, were controlling almost all the spaces I have to express and develop myself. And in the process, they were not giving me a space to imagine an alternative society. I would spend countless hours watching movies and sports on television. All this time my mind was asleep!

I learned that this is a society, where less than 20% of the people owns and controls over 80% of the world's wealth and resources. It is a society, where we put profit over nature and over people! It is a society, where I am expected to consume, consume and consume, as if there is no tomorrow. In the city, everywhere I look, billboards tell me to buy something. When I listen to the radio, I am being told to buy something. I can't watch TV for ten minutes, before I am told to buy something!

I am living in a society where I never got to learn dholuo (my mother tongue), because I was made to believe that English is the mother of all languages. In the primary and secondary schools that I attended, we would often be punished for speaking in our mother tongues or any other language that was not English. The school intended, and it still does, to make us perfect English speakers at the detriment of our languages. Today I find myself in the embarrassing position of not being able to communicate properly in my mother tongue. I am not alone, there are lots of Nairobi-born and -bred young people who cannot speak their native languages. I am only starting to understand the rich tradition and wisdom of the Luo people that I had lost when I was alienated from my mother tongue.

I was told that before the white man came to Africa, Africans did not have a history. How could they? It was a Dark Continent. There were no written records! I am living in a society in which we have been made to believe that our continent is backward and underdeveloped, that we can only survive courtesy of the messiahs from the World Bank and IMF. When I look around me, I see that the problems facing my society are so complex that I wonder how these messiahs from their Ivory Towers in Washington are supposed to help us. These problems are so complex that even the so-called teachers don't have the answers! How then do we expect them to show us the way out? We have to start learning and understanding the world and ourselves anew. This is the new process of learning that I embarked on.

At the so-called informal college?

Yes. Together with students from other countries of Africa and Indian learning activists, we started asking tough questions and pondering these issues. This was my first real empowering experience. After a few informal discussions with friends at Shikshantar, we decided to create a forum where students, especially from Africa, would discuss the development and education issues that were of concern to the African continent. I was motivated by the fact that college was not providing us with forum for discussing and interrogating issues from our own perspective. In the debate about Africa's Development, our voices were conspicuously missing! This forum was the first step towards righting this wrong. Shikshantar provided the right environment for this. It was an open environment and therefore we did not have to worry about ideology. We also had access to a lot of literature that we used as tools to stimulate our discussions.

Did I get some solutions?

I have to be careful about words here. I started coming across some answers, as far as why some things are the way they are. For example, I was able to understand that contrary to what I believed in (that technology is all-good and will make the world a better place), technology is not neutral and investment in it is a Faustian bargain. It seemingly makes work easier, while rendering millions jobless, and promotes a 'global village', while facilitating the annihilation of non-western cultures. These were not the things I was taught in school. I think solutions will have to come from the society learning together, as opposed to an individual institution. I see this learning as involving critical reflections with actions. I will demonstrate how I decided to experiment towards this.

I also learned how the idea of a Nation-State (especially in Africa) was created and used as an instrument of (economic and cultural) exploitation and ascendancy to power. Before the Europeans carved out countries round a table in Berlin, the idea of Kenya did not even exist. Yet today I have been made to understand that I am different from my brothers in Tanzania and Uganda (through the issues of papers, such as identity cards and passports, and manipulations through recitations like the loyalty pledge!). These boundaries, created for the sake of divide-and-rule and exploitation, are being maintained for precisely the same reasons. The State offers the framework through which exploitation and oppression takes place.

For example, I have talked about how education/schooling is a process of integrating one into the global system of exploitation and, at the same time, suppressing our creative abilities to oppose and transform this system. The State acts as an accomplice in this process by providing the tools through which this objective is made achievable. In Kenya, schooling has been made compulsory and is used as a discriminating factor against those who refuse to go to school. You cannot get any meaningful employment without presenting papers that show you have been to school. A new Children’s Bill to take effect this year proposes to jail parents who do not take their children to school.

In our African students' discussion group, we initiated discussions around some of the issues we thought were pertinent to our lives and our countries. We discussed how the media affected us, our experiences in the schooling system, what we thought of democracy, peace, human rights and other institutions of thought control. We brought diverse views; we sought out different writers and critics and went over their essays, criticizing, discovering new perspectives.

During this process, I started getting new and deeper insights into the issues that we were discussing. We specifically chose marginalised voices to get their perspectives too. What happened is that I started to think more critically about the system and, at the same time, developed confidence to articulate my fears. But even more importantly, I began to imagine and create new ideas without feeling that this is the responsibility of experts only.

As I said, critical reflection should be accompanied with action. As they say in the Bible, "Faith without Action is Dead," or as Gandhi put it, "What is faith, if not transformed into action?" So we started asking ourselves, "Now that we are learning all of this, what should we or what can we do?" Part of our discussions had focused so much on the media, so we thought of creating our own media. It would become our learning space and a platform for engaging others. We came up with a publication we called 21st Century Africa. This was a platform where we could freely express ourselves without having to worry about censorship, a platform where I started to explore my vision for Africa in the 21st Century. The most important thing though is that this effort helped to demystify the media and my role in it. I was no longer the passive audience I had been for years. The media was no longer the domain of a certain class of professional people. As long as I have something to say, I can create a platform to say it.

And so 21st Century Africa became the platform?

Yes. 21st Century Africa acted as a compliment to the discussion community we had created. Later I left India and came back to Kenya. Others might have been glad that I had come back with a degree, but I saw myself in a new light. The university degree was no longer important to me. I saw so many young "educated" people with degrees from universities all over the globe, all fighting to get a space within the system, little knowing that the system had space for few of them. And I wondered whether I would end up being one of them. I met friends who graduated years ago and were still walking around town looking for that elusive job. Some become frustrated and graduated into alcoholism, while others added to Nairobi's growing crime rate. School promised so much and yet offered so little.

Most graduates in Kenya have been trained for white-collar jobs and hope to get employment within sectors such as telecommunications, manufacturing industries, and maybe within the civil service. The irony is that most companies are either downsizing or moving away due to the harsh economic conditions. Having been trained to do nothing else, this generation does not know what to do except wait and hope that, sometime in the future, jobs will be available.

I talked of writers and critics. Are there particular writers or critics who made a major contribution to the way I see the world today?

Definitely. Perhaps the most revolutionary book I have ever read is Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed. It is revolutionary to me, because it made me humble. Even as I went through the process of detoxicating my mind, I still thought that I was better off than so many people, because I could read and write. As I was learning all these things, I thought that I could HELP others free themselves, empower themselves. But after reading this book I realized I was not more educated than 'the other people.' I could not be their messiah. I must fully strip myself of this kind of mentality and become one with the people whose struggle I identified with.

I was also influenced by Gandhi's Hind Swaraj, which brought home the essence of dialogue. Gandhi demonstrated that I don't have to chose either of two sides, but that I can transcend the compartmentalization 'either you are with us or against us' to reach a higher third level. This has proved particularly useful when dealing with people who tell me that if I am not for development, then I am for suffering and poverty. I am for neither!

How am I engaged in the process of resistance, decolonization and regeneration today?

I have been lucky to work with an organization called Mzizi Creative Centre, which is involved in grassroots communication strategies. This has given me the opportunity to closely study different communities and gain further practical insight into how development has been imposed on societies and how these societies are resisting this process. It has also given me the opportunity to pose some questions and share my understanding and experiences with other people/communities.

I am also rediscovering the art of storytelling. Before schools intruded, storytelling was the principal instrument of learning in African societies. Together with friends, I am involved in efforts to not only revive the art form, but to transform it into a tool of critical analysis and active and participatory learning. At Mzizi Creative Center, we are developing an art form known as Sigana. Sigana combines storytelling with elements of dance, traditional chant and banter and incorporates communal dilemma resolution as a tool for raising critical consciousness. Incorporating elements of Freirean participation and Boal’s theatrical techniques with traditional African storytelling concepts, we hope to develop a tool of communal interaction, self-critique and regeneration that leads towards the development of an interactive and participatory learning society.

I am also engaged in the Counter Renaissance publication. Here I not only learn from others but also share my perspectives and initiate debate on decolonization and regeneration. Issues raised in the Counter Renaissance have led to the formation of a group known as Brainstorm. Still in its early stage, Brainstorm hopes to bring together young people who envisage alternative media spaces to be used to facilitate discussions on decolonization, the reawakening of our creativities and the concept of an African regeneration.

Any last words?

I have slowly discovered that nobody can educate me, and neither can I educate anybody. I have to continuously learn and re-learn. Likewise, if we are to survive, the whole community must learn, unlearn and relearn. This learning involves an unprecedented tapping of creativity and as such, none can afford the arrogance of "I am the one who knows". I am refusing to be given a title that classifies me into a certain category. When people demand to know who I am (professionally), I insist that I don't belong to any profession. I am not a teacher. I am not educated. I am a learner. This is precisely why I think we should be learning, not going to school!

Celebrating the Culture of Thuggery

2010-10-01T20:25:00.006+03:00

Is it me or are we slowly starting to invert the concept of good and bad? It seems to me that it is nowadays becoming more and more fashionable to be "bad" rather than "good". Let me explain. When I was growing up, I was a big fan of the WWF (nowadays WWE) wrestling series. Back in those days, wrestling was rather simple, there were the bad (or evil) guys and the good guys. Everybody supported the good guys and even though the bad guys at times won (mostly by dirty tricks such as knocking out the referee), it was the good guys who won most of the fights, in a clean manner. Then things began to slowly change. The evil undertaker started to become popular. The moment the beer drinking, profanity uttering Stone Cold, with a vast array of dirty tricks up his sleeves become the most popular wrestler, I knew it was time for me to move on. Nowadays the 'badder' you are, the most popular you will be.

Stone Cold: The badder, the better

I came across this reflection during the recent by elections in Kenya. It seemed to me as if it were that the more murkier your past was, the more the questions and speculations about how you got your wealth, the more popular you were. I have nothing against the newly elected MPs for Makadara and Juja but the fact that they seems to be extremely wealthy, and that nobody seems to be able to explain the sources of their wealth has been more of a plus for them as opposed to being a hindrance. I will not speculate on the sources of their wealth, or reproduce rumours of it that are in the public as I am too poor for litigation, but I have been surprised at how the fact that they almost seem to be thugs has been a reason for celebration.

Mike Mbuvi aka Sonko

Yesterday, the Daily Nation had this on their Facebook page:"The new MP for Makadara known as Mike Sonko is fast becoming an urban legend with Parliament. On Wednesday, stories were circulating of people with some similarity to Sonko some linked to crime. The 35-year-old MP, who often sports oversized casual shirts and expensive jewellery, has fired up the imagination with his display of largely unexplained wealth." These were some of the comments that followed it:
-Leave sonko alone where is da complainant foko jembe,media 2 i havent heard any1 cal a pres conf an says mbuvi aliniibia ama is a thug bure kabisa
-atsii.arent the other mps proved thugs from morasses,maize,angloleasing,freeprimary education,goldenberg yet have seen any prove on sonko claims mwacheni jamaani kwani DN hanma news.
-Mike uko juu 2 sana wenye uwivu wajiyonge tutawazika!
-There are always h8z every whea. Their presence and panganga' signifies that the new kid on our block is bringin change and development. So gud mornin h8z, sit down relax nd see how an mp frm makadara should work.
-I tink sonko has juz proven dem wrong. Mike move ahead wid ua head up na kazi iendelee. bravo mheshimiwa u r mo than wat they tink u r!!!

The more devious you are in attaining your goals, the more adept you are at cheating the system, if you can hit below the belt and not get caught, then you are a hero my son! That's what wrestling has taught us as a generation

Animal Conflict Resolution Styles - Which One Are You?

2010-09-23T11:08:00.015+03:00

I have been attending a conflict transformation workshop for the past few days and one of the interesting stuff I came across was the use of animal characteristics to illustrate our conflict styles (adapted from Hope and Timmel II, 1995). As I mulled over these I discovered that I am probably a cross breed of lion and turtle. Although at times (like a lion) I tend to dig in and fight whenever others disagree with my opinions (though I must add I am also ready to concede defeat when clearly defeated), at times I do behave like a tortoise and withdraw from a group or refuse to participate in efforts aimed at discussions. This is especially if I feel the other parties are unreasonable or strongly opinionated as not to have an open mind.

Anyway, here are the different conflict styles I learned, where do you fall?

Donkey: Very stubborn, and refuses to change his or her point of view. I have a few friends (and a relative or two here) but I generally avoid such people

Elephant: Blocks the way, and stubbornly prevents the group from continuing along the road they desire to go

Lion: Gets in and fights whenever others disagree with his or her plans, or interferes with his or her desires. I am thinking about Imani, my second 2 year old daughter and especially how she deals with Tamia, her 6 year older sister

Rabbit: Runs away as soon as he or she senses tension, conflict, or any unpleasant job. This may mean switching quickly to another topic

Ostrich: Buries his or her head in the the sand and refuses to face reality or admit there is any problem at all. For some reasons this reminds me of our president

Turtle: Withdraws from the group,refusing to give ideas or opinions. I find this very useful when dealing with a group of donkeys or elephants!

Chameleon: Changes colour according to the people he or she is with. Will say one thing to this group and something else to another. Very common with Kenyan politicians!

Owl: Looks very solemn and pretends to be very wise, always talking in long words and complicated sentences

Mouse: Too timid to speak up on any subject

Monkey: Fools around, chatters, and prevents the group from concentrating on serious business

PS: Pictures are sourced from Google images

Point to Ponder: Reflecting on the Celebrity Culture

2010-09-16T13:16:00.004+03:00

When I was in college, I was an avid reader of Readers' Digest. Apart from the usual witty sections like "Laughter the Best Medicine" "College Rags" and "All in a Day's Work", one of my favorite sections was "Points to Ponder", a section that had profound statements, often about a paragraph long, on life's little lessons. Sadly I no longer see this section on the current South African editions that I occasionally pick up from Nairobi's street vendors. I was so addicted to this section that I would pick up the best of the lot and write them down in an exercise book that I still own over 10 years later (yes, I went to college when laptops were an extreme luxury and we wrote down stuff in our diaries and exercise books!). It was when flipping through this book - now aged with time - that I came across this gem:-

"When I was 12, I read Tolstoy. But I didn't know it was Tolstoy. I was interested in the story, not the author. A real reader, especially a young reader, never cares too much about the author. He wants to read the book and he enjoys it. When people begin to be less interested in the art, they become more interested in the artist."
- Conversations with Isaac Bashevis Singer, with Richard Burgin (Doubleday)

I have noticed a trend with some of my friends where before watching a movie, they ask who is in it. If it is not a superstar name, then they figure it is not worth watching. People go to poetry readings based on who will be there (and then proceed to chat away when the poetry is being read) and not necessarily to hear the poetry. If there is no high profile name in your event, it will be shunned by the media and thus the public. Even in organizations, it is now common to hear people brainstorm on the need to get a high profile name for an event to be a success. It is no longer about the content but rather in whose name the content is affiliated.

I have at times been accused of being aloof to celebrities and other high profile names that I have met in the line of work or socially. I might like your art, writing, music etc, but that does not necessarily mean I have to treat you as if you are more special than us mere mortals.

Don't Quit - Inspiration from an unknown poet

2010-08-30T18:06:00.005+03:00

I first came across this poem, (whose author I have never known), some 20 or so years ago, and often when I have felt really down and on the verge of throwing in the towel, I have turned to it. It has been a difficult week both at work and at home, and now I turn to it again! Just figured I'd post it here in case someone who has never come across it stumbles upon it here! Also let me know if you know the name of the author!

Don't Quit

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up, though the pace seems slow -
You might succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out -
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt -
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit -
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

- Unknown

Rape by Deception - Really?

2010-07-30T13:23:00.005+03:00

There was an interesting news story recently whereby Sabbar Kashur, a Palestinian from East Jerusalem, was sentenced by an Israeli court to 18 years in jail for rape by deception. Two years ago Kashur met a Jewish woman on the street in Jerusalem. He worked as a messenger for an Israeli law firm and like some other Palestinians looking to integrate more effectively into Israeli society had assumed the identity of a Jew. He called himself Dudu, a common Israeli name. On the same day the two had a consensual sexual encounter in a nearby office building. The woman, whose identity is still protected by law, did not know Kashur was an Arab. When she found out she filed a complaint with police. Kashur was questioned by police and spent two years under house arrest facing a charge of rape and sexual assault. It was later dropped to the one of "rape by deception" in a plea bargain.

This story elicited quite some discussions in the blogosphere, with some people calling it racism, others saying it was justified and others saying it was demeaning to ‘real victims’ of rape. One of the things that struck me was the argument about how many men would be behind bars if there was really a case of rape by deception.

It is generally accepted many men in our community that you got to ‘hype’ yourself up a bit to secure the affections of the ladies. While one would ordinarily dress sloppily, one would go the extra distance to dress in a certain way to attract the eyes of some lady. People have been known to even borrow clothes from their friends. Men have been known to also borrow cars to impress the ladies, lie about their actual incomes and even titles at the work place just to get that extra mark. Cleaners suddenly become Sanitation or Office Health Assistants or technicians. When these men land their targets, are they now guilty of rape by deception? And what about those who say they are in love when they are not but just want to get into someone’s pants?

The Stupidity of Our Politicians...

2010-07-14T09:45:00.005+03:00

For long I have taken the cliche that we deserve the leaders we have with a pinch of salt until recently. Not only did the Matuga By Elections confirm this, but it has also now confirmed another one of my fears. I have always thought that Kalonzo Musyoka, Kenya's vice president, looks a bit silly, even possibly stupid, and despite lots of evidence that could have confirmed this, I resisted the urge to say so with some finality. Until I saw him on news last night.

It was a story on the Matuga by election and Kalonzo was on the campaign trail. I could not believe my eyes when I heard him convince the people of Matuga that the flag that Makwere had been flying before his election was annulled (the fact that he was a minister) was not really his (Makwere's) but it actually belonged to the people of Matuga, and therefore they should not let it go. I figured out no wonder Makwere's performance as a minister was so dismal, he was not a minister for the country but rather for his constituency. All the more reasons why I will vote YES for the draft...Though I was sad that Makwere was actually re-elected, at least I got to confirm one thing once and for all, Kalonzo Musyoka is actually stupid

Letter To My 13 Year Old Self

2010-07-10T16:48:00.005+03:00

I am writing this as a challenge by one of my favourite bloggers @carolkmail I was 13 a long time back so I have to try and remember how it was back then

Ok young man,
I know you now think that you know everything because you just turned 13. Well, I've got 13 things to tell you so for once in your life I want you to actually listen. One, it is an important thing to actually take time to listen. Remember "silent" is an anagram of listen, so it is good at times to just observe silence and listen to what the world has to say. Listen to what the adults have to say, they have all passed 13 you know. Secondly, remember that people will tell who you are by who your friends are. I know you have some friends I don't like, and I am not telling you to do anything about them but as you grow older, you will earn respect or disrespect depending on the type of the company you keep. You hang around with loafers and you will be loafers.

The third thing I want to tell you is to never grow a big head. Keep in mind that just as you are better at some things than other boys your age, there are some things that they are better at than you. And that is how it will be for the rest of your life, so don't get jealous of others, or try to compete with them. Know what you want and set out to get it, it does not matter if others do better or worse than you, as long as you get what you want. The other thing I can add is that when you go to high school, you will meet kids from all types of background, kids who are the sons of ministers and the rich, and kids from poorer backgrounds than you. Treat them all the same coz you never know where life will take you.

My point number five is that never fear trying anything new and never fear to fail. Don't care what others say, if you fail, just start over again until you get it right, or until you prove it cannot work. My final point is about the girls..eh, I know this is difficult to talk about, but...well, all I can say is that some are good and some might not be so good. The day you will find that good one, treat her nicely and your life will be forever good. And that's all I can say about that point.

I know you were expecting to count 13 points but if you take these points and multiply by two, then add one for that last point because it is big, then there you are. Now finish your homework, it might determine your future. But then again it might not.

PS: I have been asked to tag others to continue this thread but I don't really interact with bloggers whose blogs I read on a personal level, so I am not sure how they will take it. But these are some of my favourite bloggers so I would like to see if they can write anything on this: @magaribina @wyndago and @shiko_msa They have excellent blogs, follow them

5 Ways to Deal With Kenya's Greedy MP(igs)

2010-07-09T16:07:00.007+03:00

There has been a lot of uproar of the last few days over the Kenyan Members of Parliament (MPigs) decision to award themselves more money. Yesterday there were demos organized by the civil society, but that's all it was, a demonstration, with few expecting it to achieve anything. Some people are however asking what more can be done to deal with Kenya's greedy MP-igs, something more practical, something done NOW! Well, I have a few "innovative" ideas.

1. Send them on a trip to The Mara: We all know that there is nothing these guys like like an expensive all expenses paid trip. We can pack the whole lot in a bus and send them to Maasai Mara on a trip. We must however pick the dry season and when the wildebeests and zebras are across the border in Tanzania. I assume that if we then abandon them in the middle of the park, and with starving lions...and let whatever happens, happen. Ok, I know that the conservationists will argue that this is tantamount to poisoning lions so it will probably not happen.

2. All women in Kenya, wives and mistresses to deny MPs sex indefinitely. Knowing their appetite for this, but oops! Wouldn't the female MPigs decide to pass it round to their colleagues? Bad idea maybe. But again if you look at the female MPs, barring Charity, that in itself would be torture!

3. Sentence Onyancha to life in prison and imprison him in parliament buildings (with all his tools of trade), maybe he can get his victim balance from there. But maybe this is being unkind to serial killers, I understand they prefer actual human beings, not insensitive, bloated, delusions of grandeur suffering....

4. Drop the buggers in the middle of River Road, and with no police in sight, shout MWIZI! Then let Kenyan idlers do what they do best!!

5. Move parliament sessions to a location out of Nairobi. Since they say that Nairobi is an expensive town hence they need to be paid more, why not move the sessions to let us say Mogadishu? or Baghdad? Or maybe the Pakistan-Afghanistan border? I guess their funeral covers includes the words "collateral damage"!

I know there are more ideas out there on how we can solve pig problems, if you have any that you think might work miracles, I am prepared to listen.

PS: Apologies to the pigs for comparing them to Kenyan legislators

Time at FilmAid, Part I

2010-07-07T07:34:00.012+03:00

Now that I have just moved from FilmAid where I worked for 5 years, I thought I could post some of my moments from my time with FilmAid. The moments are many and I cannot do it in one post, so here are a few random pics I just found and hopefully over the next few days, I will add some more interesting stuff in an organized way.

Evening screening in Kakuma refugee camp, for many evenings the highlight of refugees in the camp. When I was program manager between 2006 and early 2007, I got to see so many of these evenings

Somewhere deep in Duk county in Southern Sudan sometimes in 2007. This was in one of the "cattle camps"

Those days accomodation was in tents, this is Panyagor. Wonder if things have changed three years later

Posing for a photo by the Nile in Juba

Saying good-bye to Kakuma in 2007 as I came to replace my boss (Natalia) in Nairobi

Posing with some camp leaders, these are the ruins of a once resplendent Governors' house and later State House in the self declared state of Somaliland. It was bombed to ruins by the Siad Barre regime. I visited in late 2007. by then it was housing refugees and IDPs.

This is part of the State House camp

Standing among the debris in Haiti. This was April this year as FilmAid set up a program in Haiti.

Evening screening being set up in Port Au Prince, Haiti

Screening in Jacmel, Haiti

What our MP-igs Are Really Worth

2010-07-02T10:40:00.006+03:00

There has been a major uproar as Kenyan MPs for the umpteenth time award themselves hefty salary increases. While most are making noise that the money is too much, nobody is really saying how much they ought to be paid. I have therefore decided to ponder on how an MP's payslip should really look like. Here is my take (in Ksh):

Basic salary:
200,000 (same an average program manager in an NGO operating in a bigger area than a constituency)

Allowances:
Travel = 16,000(4,000 per weekend using public transport, in most places they will still have change if they use the 14 seater matatus)
Phone & communication allowances = 0 (this is why people work for a salary)
Seating allowances = 0 (their job is to 'seat' in the House and discuss issues)
Entertainment Allowances = 6,000 (Enough for one to stack some crates of soda in the House, a few packets of biscuits and even some chang'aa now that it is being legalized)
Housing = 0 (that is why we get salaries, so that we can pay rent)
Schooling for kids = same as above

Others:
15% of the salaries contributed to the pension scheme (and they can't access it until they retire like the rest of us) = 30,000
Car Loans = 0 (they can apply for unsecured loans from commercial banks like the rest of us, Govt will provide letters confirming that they work in parliament)
Health = insurance paid directly for employee, wife and 2 children (preferably cheapest option from Resolution Health)

We are talking of approximately 250,000 here which is subjected to tax (you they will take home about190,000 thereabouts- someone can do the maths) and we can throw in a 10% increase every year subject to performance appraisal. Your constituents must give the go-ahead by more than 50% for you to get the increase. I do believe that this will be very generous given the fact that the work does not call for a lot of qualifications, one should just be able to speak English and Swahili at a basic level!

The Old Man vs The School Brats

2010-06-23T16:29:00.003+03:00

While cleaning up my computer, I came across this story. I can't remember where I picked it from (hope I will not get sued) but it made me laugh out loudly. Nothing like an old head!! However it got me thinking about how stuff that we enjoy become boring once we start getting paid to do it!!!

A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a junior high school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment. Then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every trash can they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.

The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. In fact, I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing."

The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the trashcans.
After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face. "This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans."
The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they accepted his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street.

"Look," he said, "I haven't received my Social Security check yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?"
"A freakin' quarter?" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, dude. We quit!" And the old man enjoyed peace and serenity for the rest of his days.

Acting Key Skill in Football

2010-06-21T10:11:00.001+03:00

After closely watching the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, and football in general, I think I have an answer to Kenya’s footballing woes, or at least part of it. Football Kenya Limited (FKL) needs to open an acting school asap! Yes, I said it, acting has now become a core football skill and any successful footballer or football team must possess this key skill. All the major teams and players nowadays seem to be well drilled in this form. The days of Maradona struggling to stay on his feet as the opposition tried their best to hack him down are long gone. Nowadays it is common to see a strong big man like Cote D’Ivoire’s Kader Keita go down like he has been gunned down after a slight touch by Kaka. Not that I excuse Kaka, a footballer of his calibre needs to know better than to show that kind of petulance especially when already on a yellow card but his touch could never have even brought by 7 year old daughter down. Not only did he “touch” Keita’s chest, the chap went down clutching his face as if he was the recipient of a Tyson blow!

Brazillian Star Kaka

But Keita is not the only one doing it. I figure he must have learnt his trade from his teammate Drogba. For a man of Drogba’s size, I have often marvelled at his ability to go down from the slightest of touches as if he has been pole-axed. I still marvel at his incidence with former Arsenal keeper “mad’ Jens Lehman when both shoved each other and they all went down in a heap. Another great master of diving of course is Cristiano Ronaldo. A few seasons back, with United losing in the final minutes against Spurs and needing a point to keep their title charge alive, Ronaldo went rolling in the penalty area as if a truck had run into him. Replays showed that there had been no contact at all but of course Ronaldo scored the penalty and United went ahead to win the league title.

I am therefore calling on FKL to urgently contract David Mulwa and Charles Bukeko (Papa Shirandulla) to open an acting school for soccer players if Kenya are to advance far in major tournaments. This effort should be supported by the Government and all players should be compelled to attend these classes. We shall then be able to see more opponents sent off and win those crucial penalties in important games!

Haiti Through My Eyes

2010-04-25T16:33:00.009+03:00

The following are some of the stuff I saw during my trip to Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake. These are just a few random shots I have and will post part 2 soon once I get my photos organized.

Collapsed building in Port Au Prince, they are still working hard to clear the collapsed buildings and debris

We had to go off road when travelling from Jacmel to Port Au Prince because a road was closed. Unfortunately for these guys infront of us, they got stuck in the river!

Looks like here you cannot prevent the power company from reading your meter by locking the gates like we do in Kenya!

Notice how they serve you the beer with a serviette to hold your bottle? First time I have seen anything like this!

This kid get jiggy with it as the DJ does his thing before we begin a screening at Labidou, one of the tented camps in Jacmel. I will be posting more about the FilmAid screenings in Haiti on the FilmAid blog

The colourful streets of Port Au Prince

Of Haiti and Culture

2010-04-21T00:59:00.004+03:00

My time in Haiti has been quite exciting, especially attending the outdoor night screenings in both Port Au Prince and Jacmel. One thing I have noted travelling through Haiti is that it does not seem very different from some of the places I have travelled through in Africa. In fact if I just closed my eyes and woke up in Haiti and someone told me that I am in a location in Africa, I will easily be convinced. It is less developed than some parts of Africa and more developed than others. So I have now tried to observe anything that might be different from Kenya in the way business is generally conducted. One curious thing I have noted is how money is handled.

Here you will notice that there are 3 different currencies in use but only 2 manifest themselves physically. There is the Gould (gd), the US dollar and Haitian dollar (H$). But you only get to see the US$ and the Gould. So if you for example have a meal in a restaurant, you might be told that your bill in 100 Haitian dollars. Of course you will say that you don’t have any Haitian dollar. What you are supposed to do is convert it to either Gould or US$. You will thus have to pay your H$ 100 restaurant bill in 500 goulds or in US$25. When I inquired why they need to calculate bills in a currency that does not really exist, the answer was because many people find in difficult to calculate in higher figures, dividing by 5 makes the figures manageable. 5 Goulds adds upto 1 Haitian dollar.

The other thing I found out that was quite peculiar is how they run the schools. Students actually go to school in shifts! The first bunch goes to school very early in the morning and leaves at around noon, while another shifts starts at around noon! So at around noon you find lots of kids and parents at the gate, some picking up their kids while others are dropping them off. I recall a similar thing in India when I lived there in the mid 90s! It must be a lot of work for you as a parent if you have kids on both shifts!

Then there is the way phone cards are bought. While back in Kenya it is the phone company or dealers who pay the retailers a commission, here it is the customer who pays a commission. The first time I bought a card for 200gd, the guy asked for 220gd. For the guys who load credit directly to your phone, and they are quite a lot especially in the streets of Port au Prince, if you give him 200gd, he load your phone with 180gd worth of air time. One thing that we seem to have in common is that their music is kind of similar to ours, its like benga or lingala. I actually heard a lingala music playing and when I asked whether they knew who the musician is, all that they knew was that the music was from Africa! Finally, I did notice that quite a few of the barber shops had the term “Good Looking” attached to their names. It made it easy for me to get a shave because all I needed when looking for directions is to ask for “Good Looking” given the difficulties with language!

Of travels, Visa and Colour

2010-04-06T07:07:00.000+03:00

Naughty boy, naughty boy...I thought to myself as he gave my passport a very casual glance and then pulled me out of the queue and asked me to wait for a minute. I was among the first on the line in Doha, Qatar as they asked those on the flight to Paris to board. I then waited until all the other passengers had gone in before they checked my passport further. My passport did not have a visa for France and I duly explained that I was merely transiting to Santo Domingo, and I did not need a visa for the Dominican Republic because I was en route to Haiti, where I also did not need a visa because I was not going to stay for more than 90 days. He seemed perplexed then waved me to go through. So did he pick me out because I was black or simply because he wanted more clarification? And could I not have offered the same explanation when he first stopped me instead of making me wait all that time?
Fast forward a few hours later in Paris. Checking in and picking my boarding pass. The Air France lady does not look convinced that I should be travelling without a visa. I offer the same explanation I had offered a few hours earlier to the young man in Qatar, only that she is not buying it as readily as the Qatari did. She tells me that she does not think this is right and picks up the phone to call her supervisor. The supervisor looks at my passport then at the ticket and sadly shakes his head. He looks at me and I just shrug my shoulders before explaining, again ,that I do not need a visa to go to Haiti through Qatar, Paris and the Dominican republic. He tells me that if I am travelling through a European country I need a transit visa. I tell him that if I am only going through one European country and stopping for less than 8 hours then I don’t need a transit visa. Then he notices that I have an American visa and he sees his way out. He tells the lady that she can check me into the flight because I have an American visa, but when I get to the Dominican republic, I must buy a tourist card for US$10. He asks me whether I have US$10. I tell him that I cannot be travelling all the way from Kenya to Haiti without $10. He did not notice that my American visa was due to expire in a few time, before even my return journey (hence the reason I was taking such a long flight!).
11 hours later when I get to the Dominican Republic, a very beautiful lady at the immigration desk tells me that I don’t need to pay anything because I am on transit, stamps my passport and wishes me a nice stay in Santo Domingo.
So how many people get stranded on trips simply because some ignorant immigration or airline officers don’t really know the rules? From my experience, a lot of times immigration officers in most of the countries I have visited just stamp your passport entry or exit, they really don’t have time to scrutinize who you are and why you are entering their country. With the exception of the US of A. They are the only ones who seem trained to really check out who is getting into their country and why. In third world countries, they simply stamp. I wonder whether it will get worse now that the US are going to start profiling travellers? If you are a young man travelling from Pakistan to the US, or if your passport, like mine, shows that you have been to the Middle East and Somalia, then expect a tougher time.
For now, let me enjoy my stay in Haiti, where they immigration guy did not bother reading the immigration form I had filled. He just took my passport, looked for an empty page and stamped.

My Best of Makmende

2010-03-24T19:46:00.002+03:00

The last few days I have laughed myself to almost death point as I have read various tweets on the mystical powers of Kenya's new superhero, Makmende. I have therefore decided, like many .ke bloggers to compile a list of some of my best of Makmende. Here they are
1. Makmende can touch Mc Hammer
2. Makmende is peeing all over Nairobi, some are calling it rain
3. Makmende can tweet 141 letters on twitter
4. When Makmende was a mono, the school principal used to wash his clothes
5. Makmende never tweets but everybody retweets him
6. Makmende hangs his clothes on his safcom line
7. Makmende gets his vitamin C from his orange line
8. Makmende cant tell time, he simply decides what time it is
9. Makmende does not need a twitter account because he is already following you
10.Makmende does not get old with time, time gets old with Makmende
11. Makmende can drink Omusakhulu's boilin tea straight from the sufuria and negotiate that man maish's horrible pothole

There are plenty more Makmende's that I read out there and it really amazes me how people have been so creative with the dude. Waiting to see if Just A Band will cash it on the craze!

Fallacy of Obsession with Passing Exams

2010-03-17T20:08:00.007+03:00

A few days ago I watching news coverage of the Kenya Certificate of Secondary Schools Education - or whatever it is called - and was surprised to hear this journalist, while reporting on the number of those who failed to meet the university admission cut off points, authoritatively state their dreams of achieving their aspirations has ended. I couldn't help but think that therein lies the problem with our education system, selling the fallacy that it is only by passing examinations and going to university can one achieve their dreams. What this does is that for the thousands of kids who get to believe this message and who don't make it as far as formal education is concerned, their confidence in making a better life is shattered, and some will accept their fate and withdraw from any endeavor to exploit their talents and other opportunities.

When I was in high school, I had two exceptional friends whose names I will not mention. One was extremely lazy in class but brilliant artistically. He scored all Es - he hardly answered any questions - in the final exams and he never gave a hoot about exams. He went on to design matatu art, pimp cars, design t-shirts and has generally made a good life for himself. The other one, though not really a bookworm in the sense, was extremely brilliant and scored all As. He went to university and studied one of the elite courses - choose between Medicine, Architecture, Law- but is a mess of a human being at the moment. I see him I try and avoid him as most likely he will be trying to squeeze a penny out of me, most likely for a drink. I have another example of a friend who committed suicide out of depression after getting brilliant scores and going through one hell of a roller coaster ride in campus. My point is that performing well in exams is not necessarily a guarantee that dreams will be fulfilled, and also performing poorly is not a sentence to a miserable life.

I usually cite my life as an example. I did not perform brilliantly in my form 4 exams. As a matter of fact, I did not get the required marks to go to university, though I did not fail flat for that matter. But getting Ds in Maths, Chemistry, and Biology as well as a D- in physics did not inspire confidence in me among some of my family members. But now I head an international NGO in the country. Here is a link to an article I wrote about my perceptions on this sometimes back

I Have The Leaders That I Deserve!

2010-02-26T16:47:00.006+03:00

They say a country deserves the leaders it gets, I wonder how true this is for Kenya. Let me reflect on this by picking out a few leaders we have and put this theory to test.

Obviously the place to start is Kibaki, the president. Personally I think Kibaki is petty and only concerns himself with pettiness, unless of course pushed to act by other forces. In the midst of more pressing national concerns, the old man from Othaya will find time to call a press conference to claim that he only has one wife. As if we care. The bugger will chuckle at himself when he calls one pumbavu. Recently, he was quick to suspend several PSs only after he heard that those in the office of the PM had been pressurized to step aside, in the process suspending even those who had already stepped aside. The guy will only react when the PM has actually done something, it is like he is trying to tell Raila "I am bigger than you", or "my thing is bigger than yours!" I will contrast this to the manner in which Kenyan media were so glued to the Esther Arunga / Hellon story. As if it matters. So the public gets hooked on the fact that an adult of sound mind is keeping the company of someone they don't like. You go on twitter, facebook, TV, radio, it is all you can see or hear about. Then a mob at the coast decides that they have nothing better to do with their time than try to stop a gay wedding! I am sure that if you mark those faces well, you will see them pop somewhere else pleading with the government to come and help them because they are so poor!

Another high profile leader we have is the thug from Eldoret, William Ruto. I call him a thug because those of us old enough to remember 92 can still recall the thuggery that went on to ensure that Baba Moi remained in charge. Now the other day I see folks in Rift Valley protesting and demonstrating because he has been suspended for allegedly stealing maize. Simply because he is in a power struggle with one that we don't like, it is now alright to stay put as a minister even when allegations of corruption are hanging over your head. Tomorrow we shall be blaming the government for lack of willpower in fighting corruption. I am not trying to say that I approve of the government's way of handling corruption, but the point is that the person who has to be a victim of this fight has to be from the other community!

Another high profile leader we have is Kalonzo Musyoka. The chap is self confessed committed christian, like many Kenyans. Many Kenyans are so committed a christian that they cannot withstand the provision of the Kadhis court in the constitution. They are so committed a christian that they will not hesitate to pelt with stones, hack with machetes or burn down those they consider to stand in their way. There is no contradiction in being christian and promoting tribalism, watching after your stomach first while the country burns, or ignoring a public promise for political convenience. That is why we Kalonzo as our leader!

Because we are Kenyans, someone will deduce my ethnicity from my profile and ask why I am not alluding any negativity to the PM, and will therefore conclude that I support the PM so I will not point an accusing finger at him. One will therefore say I am tribalist. But just to give them that satisfaction, I will stop here.

PS: Re Raila (I can't resist it) - You campaign to be the people's president. You then burden them with the likes of H Kosgey, W Ruto, D Otieno and all those who had faithfully served in the same regimes that you demonized as autocratic, undemocratic etc etc.

From Kakuma to Lodwar

2010-02-05T10:05:00.013+03:00

Last week I traveled by road from Kakuma to Lodwar in Turkana. Here are some pictures of whatever I saw on the road. Not a professional camera and in a moving car so don't mind the quality.

This is the Kakuma airstrip. Mostly used by UNHCR flights ferrying aid workers working at the refugee camp.

IOM flights carry refugees to Nairobi either for medical attention or resettlement cases destined for Europe, the US or Australia.

The road to Lodwar

Nice scenery!

Into the hills

Getting into Lodwar

Lodwar Airport! Finally...

Cultivating Somali Xenophobia

2010-01-23T15:19:00.003+03:00

I know that that of late there has been a lot of discussions on Somalis and Muslims in Kenya, and that most of the discussion online are basically trash. However with some time on my hand this afternoon, I decided to go over some of the stuff that people are talking about and was quite surprised about how this is developing. Here are some of the stuff I got from my Inbox from a group that calls itself young professionals....

From a Winifred Nyambura...SOMALIS OWN NOTHING IN KENYA AND IT IS ONLY A LEASE. AND SURELY WE ARE REJECTING THE KATIBA ON ONE GROUND - THE CITIZENSHIP LAW IN THIS COUNTY MUST BE AMENDED IMMEDIAETLY -U KNOW SOMALIS ARE COMING TO KENYA AND GIVING BIRTH LIKE RATS SO THAT THEIR KIDS CAN BECOME CITIZENS. SO WE ARECHANGING IT RIGHT AWAY. WE WANT ALL OF THEM WHETHER BORN IN KENYA OR WHEREVER TO GO BACK AND WORK HARD IN THEIR COUNTRY AND PUT IT IN ORDER.

From Chalis ... there is no way we are going to allow useless characters who have f****d their country to destry ours as well. They have to be trimmed, whether they come in as islam or whatever form,as a country we have to act,in fact i have dealt very closely with somalis, muslims,,,call it whatever name. let then take their extremists behaviours, thninking, ideologies etc etc to afghanistan, irag or werever!!!!

From one David Okello..."The muslim brotherhood is well gone over board and it needs to be "trimmed" (they will take this wrong). The Somalis in places like Kajiado are just too many and currently they are building a very big mosque, this is right under the internal ministers nose, his constituency?"

Another writer...We demand that the Army of Kenya take control of the border and checkpoints immediately and replace these APs and Kenya Police. We have just received shocking news that, 4,000,000 (four million) Somalis have crossed Kenyan border and are in Mombasa, Nairobi, Masai Land, Kisumu and are seeping like a bad smell deeper into the rural village communities in Kenya within the last one year

From the same writer as above...The government must not only be worried of this cleric but also the Somalis who are entering Kenya in large numbers and buying not only the Masaais out of the Rift Valley but also turning Nairobi into a Somali city. Kajiado is filled with Somalis who run businesses who cannot express themselves in either English or Swahili. These are Al-Qaeda Fundamentalists imported to create chaos in Kenya and spoil the future of our children.

Okay, I will reserve my comments for later...

New Year New Perspectives

2010-01-16T15:33:00.004+03:00

This year I decided to change the nature of the my blog...the previous one never really got going because I think what I was trying to say was just all over the place. Most of the Kenyan blogs are political or have have political inclinations, or have a 'development' mindset and these thoughts are just all over. I therefore could not really find anything to say, either because everybody is saying the same thing, or everybody wants to talk and not listen. This year I want to engage more on my reflections, on anything. I am not going to be trying to get anybody to read or listen to me, but rather I intend to be doing more of listening to others and talking to myself...okay, maybe this does not make sense but who cares? I feel I need to talk to myself more about my work, my family, my friendships, frustrations etc...instead of this notion of badilisha Kenya, more about badilisha Myself. Then I will perhaps write more regularly...

I'm Back But Some People Are Smelling Like Shit

2009-09-15T18:49:00.008+03:00

I have been away for quite a while, slightly more than a month but I don't feel I have missed much anyway. Kenya is still Kenya, the usual shenanigans over appointments, Mau, starvation, power games etc. Of these, one thing that has aroused strong feelings is the debate on Mau conservation. It's been painful watching one set of politicians open their foul mouths to once again use their communities to defend their corruption while another set retreat from doing their work because of political considerations, their rhetoric notwithstanding. It is someone who lives on another planet that still needs to be convinced of the urgency to save the Mau complex, and other water towers. I almost threw up when the former president Moi opened his mouth to comment on the same issue, the very person who had 24 years to right any wrong as far as our environment was concerned. It also sickens me to hear his defenders come out daily saying what a marvelous job he is doing...this is one guy who should consider himself lucky to be still walking about freely...

...Then there is Ringera but the less said about that the better!

In both these cases, the people who come out smelling like shit are:

On Mau...(Raila, W. Ruto, I. Ruto and the Kalenjin MPs, arap Moi and Kibaki)

On Ringera...(Kibaki, Mutula Kilonzo, Kalonzo, Ringera, Martha Karua)

Kikuyunizing Our Failures and Successess

2009-07-21T21:07:00.005+03:00

Blame it on the Kikuyus. Going round the country discussing the root causes of the post election violence, nearly everybody except the Kikuyus, seem to think that the Kikuyus are the problem in this country. Of course this is rather disturbing to anybody who might have a clear grasp of what the genesis and nature of our problems are. Here are a few charges I have heard labeled against the Kikuyu:
1. The Kikuyus think that they are the ones born to lead. In some of the workshops I have attended, people are quick to point out that Kikuyus think they are born to lead and use the fact that Kikuyus have never voted en mass for a presidential candidate from another community since the advent of competitive multi party politics in the early 90s.
2. None Kikuyus cannot own land or successful businesses in Central province. Kikuyus have refuted this claim but I still wait for tangible examples.
3. Kikuyus "ate" during Kenyatta's regime, specifically benefiting from the former 'white highlands' and have also benefited from Kibaki's era. It is worth noting that nobody explains exactly how they have benefited from Kibaki's time. The yardstick for this is that a lot of senior government jobs were given to the Kikuyus but exactly how does that benefit the Kikuyus as a community?

These are just but some of the accusations that I hear left right and center but the main sticking point, especially in the Rift Valley, Western Province and Coast is the issue of land. on the other hand, I have also heard Kikuyus explain how they are the engine of this country, producing most of the food that we eat and generally propelling the economy. When Kikuyu leaders have been in charge of the country, the economic performance has been generally good, compared to the Moi era. My point here is not to vilify or praise the Kikuyus but my concern is that if this sweeping anti-Kikuyu sentiment (especially upcountry-- it is not so noticeable in the cities) continues to grow, we might be looking at a time when people will be determined to cleanse out the Kikuyus. Could this be leading to the making of an atmosphere conducive to genocide? In Mumias for example, we heard sentiments that "this time we shall not wait for the elections to get rid of the Kukuyus"...meanwhile I am aware that there was a ministry created to promote national cohesion. I wonder who the minister is. If we are to address the real mabadiliko in this country, we need to start confronting these issues.

WAJIBU: Public Debate, 2 July

2009-06-25T12:37:00.002+03:00

WAJIBU is a quarterly journal that has been published in Kenya since 1985. It is unique among Kenyan journals in that it has consistently focused on social, economic, political and ethical issues that are topical, relevant and of common concern. It has invited a wide variety of thinkers, coming from many different backgrounds to contribute to the debate on these issues. WAJIBU is also special in not-for-profit journals in that it has managed to be published for now nearly 24 years without regular donor funding.

Each issue of Wajibu addresses a different theme; previous issues have focused on the environment, the role of women, education, characteristics of good leaders, work ethics and working conditions, the role of NGOs in development, the lifestyle of the young, crime and punishment, globalisation, the information society, ingredients of a just society, memory and identity, values for a planet in turmoil.

We at WAJIBU wish to invite you to a public debate on a topic of concern to us all.

Since the events brought about by the 2007 election fiasco, there have been many voices in Kenya calling for a complete change of direction in our country. At the same time there have been calls for all Kenyans of good will to come together and provide alternative leadership.
However, there is no consensus of how change is to be brought about and who will provide the alternative leadership.

Might active non-violence be an answer and help us on the road towards a just society?
We invite you to join us in this debate.

Towards a just society in Kenya: non-violent options

*Date: 2 July 2009, 6.00 pm.
Place: Goethe Institut, Loita/Monrovia streets

Speakers: Mwalimu Mati, Philo Ikonya
Moderator: Paul Oyier
*
If you should be unable to attend, please become a subscriber, renew your subscription if you are already a subscriber, subscribe for a friend, a school or an institution or make a donation to assure the future of the journal.

Current and previous issues of the journal will be for sale at the function.

Regaining Trust: Our Challenge

2009-06-08T17:23:00.002+03:00

Recently I went through the Rift Valley attending several workshops on peace-building among the communities that were hard hit by the post election violence. The good thing was that this was not your usual workshop crowd but rather the average Kenyan, people who were both victims and perpetrators of the violence. One thing that hit me was when one participant in Nakuru said that one of the effects of the violence was that communities have lost trust in one another. If this is truly the case, then I am worried for our future...but again I am not surprised.

I can however say that I am disappointed at the lack of urgency in addressing this fundamental issue. How can we live with each other if we don't trust each other? While this a situation that your typical Kenyan politician will relish, as they can play on our fears for the sake of garnering votes, it takes a scary dimension when one considers a recent research finding by Media Focus on Africa that stated that a significant number of people are ready and willing to fight again. This is corroborated by sentiments in one of the workshops where some participants stated that next time they will get rid of all the Kikuyus in their area, while in yet another workshop, a lady participant said that she could not believe that she is actually seated in the same room with members from another community that had chased her from where she previously lived during the violence of early last year. It took a lot of pleading from other workshop participants to cool her down.

I don't have the answers to what needs to be done, but this is something that we all need to ponder about.

Inter-Tribal Dialogue...Pushing Agenda 4

2009-06-03T22:46:00.003+03:00

Media Focus on Africa Foundation is currently running a program on Citizen TV called Fist To Five for Change. Hosted by Julie Gichuru, the program is supposed to be providing a platform for inter-tribal dialogue, addressing some of the root causes of the post election violence and exploring solutions, all from a wananchi point of view. The good thing with this program is that all the participants are your common wananchi and it avoids the usual politicians or experts who we are so used to seeing on the idiot box. The project runs a rotation of three programs, with each set of three programs looking at underlying issues and proposing solutions. The first program featured people from Kibera and Mathare slums and the one currently showing features participants from Nakuru and Naivasha. Other programs will involve participants from Eldoret, Kisumu and Mombasa.

It is indeed refreshing to watch your kawaida wananchi express issues in a plain language that mainstream personalities in the media avoid tackling head on. Participants will say in plain terms "Kikuyus are like this and this...or Luos are like this and this..." etc. However one issue I have against the program is the use of Julie Gichuru as it's anchor. Maybe the producers wanted a star name to attract viewers but given her obvious limitation of swahili, it forces the participants to struggle to express themselves in English and you feel something is lost. A Swahili facilitator would be ideal for this.

Of interest also is that Media Focus is taking episodes of this program on the road. They have engaged FilmAid International to conduct 48 mass outdoor screenings in Kibera, Mathare, Nakuru, Naivasha, Mumias, Kisumu, Eldoret and Mombasa, as well as a series of 48 one day workshops in these locations, basically to provide a forum for people from different tribes to debate issues on conflict resolution. It is good to note that despite perceived government apathy or lack of urgency, there are others who are taking agenda 4 seriously.

Emperor Nero Fiddles...How Lovely!

2009-04-05T11:34:00.003+03:00

Once again, we are being treated to another circus by the Government but even a good comedy get boring when overdone! In our sense it is now frustrating. A lot of people I interact with, from both sides of the political divide, seem fed up by Kenyan politicians. People who only a year ago would give an arm for Raila are now fed up with the ODM brinkmanship, and those who were willing to die for Kibaki cannot also understand the PNU arrogance and detachment from the common mwananchi. The priority now is to set up oneself for 2012, with those with certain advantages seeking to consolidate their positions and those looking like lagging behind trying to set themselves up to a vantage position. But what seems lost on this coterie is that there might be no Kenya as they know it to govern come 2012.

There are two events that happened in the last 1 month that I noticed did not draw the kind of outrage that I thought it would, and I was a bit disappointed. Actually it was one event but two issues. First there was the talk of the Kikuyu - Kalenjin alliance. Granted, a few politicians came out to talk against it but it seems as if it was more from the point of selfish political alliances. The so called civil society barely commented. It was in this context that the MP for Kamukunji, a rather dodgy character (and stupid I may add) by the name Mbugua (I no longer acknowledge them as honorable) talked of the evil from Lake Victoria that had confused their brothers the Kalenjin. That he was not hauled into custody for such an irresponsible remark is not surprising - this is Kenya - but the lack of outrage against this remark given the context that the country is coming from was telling. We are not in a hurry to sort ourselves out.

Meanwhile the ODM and PNU fools continue to squabble over who should eat what as the country continues to stagger towards the brink of chaos. The reform agenda has been hijacked by partisan interests, public anger at political mismanagement continues to swell, the economic crisis begins to bite...

I am writing this out of frustration but my biggest frustration is the lack of organization by alternative voices to craft together a coherent alternative agenda for the country. You turn on the TV and you find the Chinedu-Akinyi drama instead. And the opinion poll question on NTV prime time news is who do you believe, Akinyi or Chinedu? Now I know what it felt like when Nero fiddled!

Of Mungiki and Human Rights

2009-03-10T19:37:00.003+03:00

Now I can afford to speak (or is it write?) now that the dust is settling down. Over the last few days, there has been a lot being written about Mungiki and Human Rights activitists, with human rights activists on one hand condemning the extra judicial killings of people mainly suspected to be mungiki adherents and others commending the work that the police are doing in 'eliminating' mungiki. I hold no brief for the human rights NGOs and neither do I admire Mungiki. What I strive to do is to understand where they are all coming from.

Kenyans have for long taken the Mungiki phenomenon at face value, easily dismissing it as criminal outfit that should be dealt with by force. There was a round of condemnation when Raila initially suggested that the governement should dialogue with Mungiki. The mungiki thing seemed to die only to emerge once one UN professor had dished out his findings on extra judicial killings. And this is what worries me. I remember sometimes back, there was a heavy handed operation aainst the Mungiki that looked to have dealt with the menace. Then they re-emerged during what we call the PEV. What we are seeing is an organization that seems to weather the storm and survive with its core intact, perhaps even stronger. It is therefore foolhardy to beleive that one murderous operation against the young men of central province will eliminate this. By going on an unlawful terror spree against Mungiki, the government admits that it has no idea on how to deal with this. If any government can no longer protect its people, it has no business being in power.

There is a callous arguement that has done the rounds that human rights activists only speak when police gun down the mungikis but are silent when the mungikis murder innocent people. It is the work of the goverment to protect its citizens against the excesses of criminals...and it is the work of the civil society to shout when the government metes excesses on its citizens. For those cheering loudly when the police gun down people in disregard to the law, I am sure they have never been at the wrong place at the wrong time. We cannot cry against the culture of impunity today and tomorrow commend the police for extra-judicial killings, we have to be consistent in our values, otherwise there is no difference between us and the politicians we condemn everyday.

Wanted: A Brave Man for some Brave Deeds

2009-02-26T17:51:00.002+03:00

Kenya is looking for a brave man who can shake up things and do what is needed towards setting our nation on the right track towards a more just society. The problem with our current leaders is that they lack the bravery to take action and upset the current order of things. The reason is that they actually owe their existence to this order and must pay their due by maintaining status quo. Kibaki and Raila have shown their weaknesses when it comes to making these key decisions. Initially there was the dithering in implementing the Waki report. I am sure a whole can of worms might open once some important people are put on trial but we need to be brave enough to face what might happen. In my view, it is better to deal with this, even though it might swallow us, and put an end to that chapter once and for all.

One of the most ridiculous things I read this week was that the PSC on reforms passed over Koki Muli's name for the position of chairperson of the Interim Election body because the predecessor was from the same community as her. I am not saying she should have had the job but surely, can this be the justification to pass over someone for appointment if he/she is the best qualified? We need leaders who can make such brave yet simple choices!

Yesterday the UN guy released his report on extra-judicial police killings. In his report he recommended the sacking of the Police Commissioner and the AG. Again, a decision like that is going to be too much for Kibaki and yet this offers us a perfect chance to reform the police force and the judiciary. The current lot of leaders are too afraid to shake things up, and using the excuse of ethnicity to cover up their cowardice!!

Why Are We Sanitizing Moi?

2009-02-20T19:36:00.005+03:00

Is it just me or are we on a mission to clean-up Moi? I have noticed that the chap has once more become a feature on our screens, especially KTN and is all over preaching peace and reconcialition, telling us how to get out of the mess that he and his cronies created in the first place. To cap it all, the bugger was a keynote speaker in the "Kenya We Want" forum held recently. He had the powers to help create the Kenya we want for 24 years when he was at the helm. How can Moi of all the people tell us about the future (when he is not going to be there?)!

We talk about a culture of impunity but Kenynas are very quick to rehabilitate our bad men. I know that maybe our current lot are making Moi's stuff look like kids play but we should not forget the fact that the guy was dictator, freedoms that we got during his tenure was bought by blood. This country was looted dry, corruption became a way of life and we were managed by gluttons and murderers. We should not allow ourselves to forget these facts if we want to change this country, or else in the next election we shall be hailing the likes of Kiraitu and Ruto as our saviours. This might look farfetched now but in 2002 did we not cheer the likes of Saitoti, Ntimama and Kalonzo simply because they crossed over from the Moi project?

When you tune into your TV over the weekend, you will see Moi strutting his stuff in some village in the Rift Valley, a battery of journalists in his wake and Kenyans giving him their attention. I will tune in to Channel 5 and watch Tanzanian music.

I Need To See Beyond The Chameleons!!!

2009-02-03T22:50:00.003+03:00

I have realized that Kenyan politicians have perfected the art of changing like chameleons, and we Kenyans are gullible for it. It is very easy for our politicians to move from hero to zero to hero and back to zero again, with us cheering or jeering them loudly in the process. The same people who were quick to dismiss Musalia in 2002 were quick to cheer him in 2007 simply because he was now on the 'right' side. Likewise, Kenyans who had dismissed Uhuru as Nyayo's project were cheering him loudly when he teamed up with the likes of Raila during the referendum days, cheers that turned to jeers when he later declared support for Kibaki and said Kazi Iendelee. It has not been lost to me that some ODM fans that hated Karua for her guts during the electioneering period are now praising her for having the guts to stand up against PNU.

We know that our politicians will not be consistent but what prevents us from being consistent? The whole political thing is becoming like a wrestling soap opera, where our allegiance changes according to the changes in the script. And it is the media that plays out this sorry state to us, hoping to keep us hooked with political intrigues of changing alliances. This is really the reason the Sunday papers exist for (apart from reporting on weekend sports).

The only way I can get out of this bondage is by realising that the political class is really just the political class. fullstop. Recently I was in a forum where people tried to argue that Moi was a good president, corruption was limited during his tenure, ministers towed the line, Kenyans did not hack each other, tribalism was checked and he handed over power to peaceful, MPs did not increase their salaries obscenely and that there was a tolerated level of democracy and expression (I breathed easy when I realized that most of these contributors only developed political awareness after section 2A was repeled). I tried to imagine how those who had actually had their husbands or wifes or sons detained and killed during the Moi error for subscribing to alternative views would react to that. Or will they see what is happening today and say Moi was good?

That is our curse. We quickly forget our pain and in 2012, we are once again prepared to welcome those who caused us so much pain in the past simply because they have changed their colour. We need to see beyond the chameleon.

I want to Vomit

2009-01-27T09:56:00.002+03:00

This year has found me almost declaring a total boycott of mainstream media. I have however decided for the time being not to watch the news, especially the so-called prime time news. Reason? Everytime I watch the news, especially what is happening on the political scene, I actually feel depressed and my evening is done. I find that I can no longer even speak to my wife. When I saw that Kimunya had been re-appointed, I felt sick, I wanted to vomit. And as if that was not enough, I see Raila saying on TV saying that ODM was not party to that...please excuse us!! Why not take a walk if you are principled?

It is very painfully seeing all this nonesense going around with our politicians yet feeling like there is nothing that you can do. Kenya has become a place that not even public demonstrations are tolerated. You huddled together 5 people in the middle of town and the next thing you know is that the police will be lobbying teargas. I will not be surprised if one of these days I hear that tear gas has mistakenly been fired at a sports event or a religious gathering as there seems to be a very deep fear of crowds by this PNU/ODM dictatorship.

I know it is diabolical to wish harm to others but several a time I have found a smile on my face when I have imagined a terrorist bombing in parliament when all our thugs are gathered there. Apologies for the rant!

Re: Party Shenanigans: Not Yet Democracy - Oby's Response

2008-12-31T07:54:00.000+03:00

Charles (Lumi),

I read between the lines and your frustration is palpable. With other people that I have spoken with about this the feeling is shared I recall an sms that somebody sent me moaning that Kosgey 'Dick Berg', Nicholas 'Got Alila' Biwott, Uhuru et al are the new party leaders. What is so new in these characters? In KANU it was like a secession club of the past Kenyatta's Moi's, Salatt's sons taking control. The democracy that we have chosen is party based and the parties are less than democratic. The manner that the parties are run makes them unlike vehicles for democracy in the current state of the development of Africa. The ODM party selection that you refer to was a well crafted ethnic balancing act because the reality is that the parties are vehicles for ethnic interests and not ideologies. This is true to all of them. They try to show national character by what they call regional representation. I was at a burial lat week where the people of Kisumu West district were very happy that the seat 'they' read: Anyang' had in ODM was retained in the district. This is the thinking on the ground; the parties are actually ethnic coalitions period.

You pose that maybe those who think that this is despicable should find a party colonise it - Pattniesque- and use it as a vehicle for making political headway. I wonder about the novelty in that. Should we not be thinking about changing the paradigm? Are parties the only vehicles for representational democracy? Museveni tried the moventism until he turned it into a movement. Can power be captured in a democracy only through a political party? Are the local Kenyan populace really ready for multi-party democracy in its real sense? Is the manner that we understand multi party democracy an evolution from which we can emerge with something new? We must ponder these questions and ponder them hard. If you ask who does not pretend because their education has made them such hypocrites they will tell you that they would support their man. The Kikuyu would support:Kibaki, Karua, Kenyatta and Saitoti. The Luo would support Raila. The Kamba would support Kalonzo and the Luhyia speaking coalition would support Mudavadi-Kombo-Jirongo. This is a fact.

Should we base our democratic practice on the fact that the ethnic identity has not superseded the ideological one and that Kenyans cannot AS YET identify with any thing larger than ethnic identity when push comes to shove. Note that in Kenya even religion is really not a factor yet like it is in Nigeria or Sudan. A few of the elite can see beyond ethnic identity, BUT WILL ACT well within it. Note that all the professional caucuses that supported PNU/ODM had a clear ethnic identity to it.

If this is a given for say the next 30 years when Tamia (Lumi's daughter) et al will be the influence peddlers can we not fashion a system that allows ALL regions and communities to feel part of a whole in the political scene? Note that this is a problem only at the political level, we do not have a problem with a majority of Harambee Stars being composed of lads with roots in Nyanza and Western neither do we flinch in our support of the national medal winning athletics team even if 80% come from a single village, nor the winning Pipeline/KCB/Prisons Volleyball teams heavily dominated by certain regions. We do not complain when the swimming team has 60% white-Kenyan members or the hockey team having 60% Kenya South Asian players. We do not even complain when the majority of the music stars are from Western Kenya. Our problem is the political and the political economy.

This in my view is where the majimboists loose the plot. Kenyans are not divided on their Kenyanness they do not mind that Nameless and Wahu are both ethnic Kikuyu, but they are unhappy when the single resource sharing mechanism - politics - is dominated by a single region. Full stop. This is what we need to change. The real and perceived dominance of the political arena by a few personalities, families and persons from an ethnic groups. The trick so far has been to form an ethnic coalition to give a perception of equitable distribution - this is what we must change.

How do we do this? Either by ensuring all regions are represented around the table that only changes the PERCEPTION of equity or shifting the resource base away from political control. This is what I think we ought to do. Can we create 1,000 multi-million shilling companies like Safaricom away from the political control? can we create 10,000 Equity Banks away from political machinations? Can we create 100,000 highly profitable businesses that will make the resources that the political center purports to control irrelevant? The reason there are some people able to think outside the clutches of the ODM/PNU/ODM-K sphere is the answer; economic independence. Let us create wealth, create opportunities for many that will slowly make the majority poor drift away from these party leaders. As long as the majority are poor, desperate and hungry the party supremos will prevail.

Oby

Party Shenanigans - Not Yet Democracy!

2008-12-24T18:08:00.000+03:00

The recent party elections held by different political parties in a bid to comply with new regulations once again proved that as a country we are still a long way from Democracy. All the major parties basically "staged the elections" and none of the current party leaders deserve to claim that they were elected. The party delegates merely met to rubber stamp board room decisions. What is even frightening is that parties went as far as creating positions to accommodate certain personalities. Nowhere was this so blatant as in ODM where a position of second deputy party leader had to be created to accommodate William Ruto as the party feared the consequences of Ruto and Mudavadi facing each other. In another party, positions for eight vice chairs were created!! While it is laughfable the way our politicians fear to face each other in elections, what is of more concern to be is the fact that doors are effectively shut on new comers or new blood.

While the law will be making it difficult to have anybody come up with a party just for the sake of it, the mainstream parties are effectively being locked up through board-room maneuovers. This might mean that even having some fringe parties to run on with the hope of upsetting the applecart will be more difficult. And with mainstream parties under lock and key of the establishment, it will be a long time before any meaningful democracy is seen in our political space. I see a continuation where the PNU-ODM-ODMK dictatorship is further going to be entrenched as the political space closes up, more so with the continued attempts to frighten the media through legislation. Given that this axis of evil shares the same values, that is to further entrench and enrich the political and big business class at the expense of wananchi, this really is frightening.

It is time that Kenyans started to identify a political movement that can be shaped and controlled by wananchi, that whose leadership can be a reflection of the people's voice and not crafted to satisfy the bloated egos of some big shot politicians. And how can we do this. I don't have an exact answer at the moment but one of the first steps can be to identify a fringe party and take it over...just musing

Call, text or email your MP and ask them to pay taxes

2008-12-05T11:31:00.001+03:00

See http://www.wananchiforums.com/showthread.php?p=4591#post4591 for a list of MPs and their contact information. Call, text or email your MP and ask them their stand on taxation

Abdirahman, H.Ali - Wajir South - KANU - 0721-724746 / 0722-144999 ahassan@tradeandindustry.go.ke
Chiaba, Mohamed Abu - Lamu East - PNU - 0722-410177
Bahari, Abdul Ali - Isiolo South - KANU - 0733-289501
Balala, Mohammed Najib - Mvita - ODM - 0733 333500 /0724 - 650000 najib@mombasa.co.ke
Bifwoli, Wakoli Sylvester - Bumula - PNU - 0733-865323 Wakolib@yahoo.com
Chepkitony, Lucas Kipkosgei - Keiyo North - ODM - 0733-635894 / 0722816064
Ethuro, David - Turkana Central - PNU- 0722-526370 dethuro@yahoo.com
Gesami, James Ondicho - West Mugirango - ODM- 0733 826090
Gisuka, Machage Wilfred - Kuria - DP - 0733-451806/0725834575
Kajembe, Ramathan Seif - Changamwe - ODM - 0721 609777 Langoni@swiftmombasa.com
Kajwang’, Gerald Otieno - Mbita - ODM - 0722-882787
Kamama, Asman Abongotum - Baringo East - PNU - 0731-583303
Karua, Martha Wangari Gichugu - PNU - 0721 623 342 / 0733-747551
Kenneth, Peter Gatanga - PNU - 0722 512996 andykenneth@hotmail.com
Kenyatta, Uhuru - Gatundu South - KANU - 0722 463 891
Keter, Charles Cheruiyot - Belgut - ODM - 0722 530555
Khalwale Boni - Ikolomani - NEW FORD-K - 0721 318722
Khaniri, George Munyasa - Hamisi - ODM - 0722-859341
Kilonzo, Julias Kiema Mutito - ODM-K - 0722-513605 kilonzo@wananchi.com
Kilonzo, Charles Mutavi - Yatta - ODM-K - 0734-621593 ckilonzo@crystalvaluers.com
Kimunya Amos Muhinga Kipipiri PNU - 0722518801 / 520936 kipipiri@wananchi.com
Kinyanjui, Lee Maiyani - Nakuru Town - PNU - 0722 842653
Kiunjuri, Festus Mwangi - Laikipia East - PNU - 0721 600 305
Kuti Mohammed Abdi - Isiolo North - NARC-K - 0733 235914
Lesirma, Simeon Saimanga - Samburu West - ODM - 0722-719946 simeonlesrima@yahoo.com
Magara - James Omingo - South Mugirango - ODM - 0722 911274 jomingo45@yahoo.com
Katoo, Ole Metito J - Kajiado South - 0721-640175
Midiwo, Washington Jakoyo - Gem - ODM - 0721 504 040 / 0733 421277/ 0722 935761
Mohamed, A.H.M - Mandera West - ODM - 0722-779942
Mohammed, Haji Yusuf - Ijara - KANU - 0722-709395
Mugo, Beth Wambui - Dagoretti - PNU - 0722-205753 bmugo@kenyaweb.com
Mungatana, Danson Buya - Garsen - NARC-K - 0722-411971 mungatana@wanainchi.com
Munyes, John Kiyonga - Turkana North - PNU - 0721-339094 johnmunyes@yahoo.com
Murungi, Kiraitu - South Imenti - PNU - 0721-240863 waziri@kenyaweb.com
Musila, David - Mwingi South - ODM-K - 0722 571117 davidmusila@yahoo.com
Musyoka, Stephen Kalonzo - Mwingi North - ODM-K - 0722 523 872 / 0735 161 588
Mwangi, Onesmus Kigumo - PNU - 0722-778581 kiharamwangimp@yahoo.com
Mwatela, Andrew Calist - Mwatate - ODM 0733 719 871
Mwiria, Valerian Kilemi - Tigania West - PNU - 0733-657562 kilemimwiria@africanonline.co.ke
Ndambuki, Gideon Musyoka - Kaiti - ODM-K - 0720-384553/0734-758567 gndambuki@wananchi.com
Githae, Robinson Njeru - Ndia - PNU - 722514837
Nkaisserry, Joseph Kasaine - Kajiado Central - ODM - 0721-356786 nkaisserry@wananchi.com
Nyong’o, Peter Anyang’ - Kisumu Rural - ODM - 0733 454 133 pan@africaonline.co.ke
Odinga, Raila Amolo - Langata - ODM - 0733 620 736 railaaodinga@yahoo.com
Oginga, Oburu Bondo - ODM - 0733 818517/ 0724-105493 oburu_oginga@yahoo.com
Odeke, Sospeter Ojaamongson Amagoro - ODM - 0733 967345 / 0722 813819
Ojode, Joshua Orwa Ndhiwa - ODM - 0722- 514830 Ojode7@hotmail.com
Okemo, Chrysanthus Nambale - ODM - 0733-608895 Chrisokemo@yahoo.com
Olweny, Patrick Ayiecho - Muhoroni - ODM - 0722-734187/0733-784633
Onyancha, Charles - Bonchari - ODM - 0722-248190 jonyancha2002@yahoo.com
Oparanya, Wycliffe Ambetsa - Butere - ODM - 0722 521856
Osebe, Walter Enock Nyambati - Kitutu Masaba - N LP - 0722 724 556
Poghisio, Samuel Losuron Kacheliba - ODM-K - 0722-520663 / 0734-200836 poghisio@wananchi.com
Ruto, Samoei William K. - Eldoret North - ODM - 0722 517 997 info@williamrutto.com
Shaban Naomi Namsi Taveta KANU 0722 814 412
Shitanda, Peter Soita - Malava - NEW FORD-K - 0721-341241 soita-shitanda@yahoo.com
Sugow Ahmed Aden Fafi KANU 0721-596726
Twaha, Yasin Fahim - Lamu West - NARC-K - 0722-925108
Wekesa, Noah Muhlanganga - Kwanza - PNU - 0722-774374 noahwekesa@hotmail.com
Were, David Aoko Matungu - ODM - 0722 707548/0733 569180 scorpionwere@yahoo.com
Wetangula - Moses Makisa Sirisia - PNU - 0722 517 302 / 806 363 mwetangula@hotmail.com
ATTORNEY GENERAL OF KENYA: Amos Wako 0722 772 453
Hon William Kipkiror Cheptumo, LLB, MP, Assistant Minister for Ministry of Justice & National Cohesion, 0711696756; 0722716103.
Elizabeth Ongoro (Kasarani) - 0723870741,0722897529
Mathioya's Mp Mobile 0725 740830
Henry Kosgey – 0722 759877
Kangundo MP Johnstone muthama, His number is 0733900300
Kitui South MP. Isaac Mulatya Muoki 0722 295903.
Musalia Mudavadi -0722527614
Uhuru Kenyatta - 0722463891
MP for Nyeri Town, Esther Murugi Mathenge: 0722932794 esthermurugi@yahoo.com
Fred Outa's (MP Nyando) no. is 0722818983

List from Wananchi Forums

Power, Politics and HIV/AIDS in the African Blogosphere

2008-12-04T15:08:00.000+03:00

Find a link to an interesting article by Dipesh Pabari on Pambazuka.

http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/blog/52371

Dipesh participated in the male circumcision research in Kisumu as an ethnographer (I think) and is passionate on the issue of male circumcion.

Sneek preview

About a year ago, CNN and Time declared the identification of male circumcision as a preventive measure against HIV infection as the biggest medical breakthrough of 2007. Having worked on one of the studies that led to this “discovery” several years before, I quickly penned something which was published on Africa News on the 20th December 2007 (http://www.africanews.com/site/list_messages/14084).

What followed was an onslaught of comments prompting the publishers to keep the article open as a discussion. In this little microcosm of cyberspace, individuals debated the “truth” behind male circumcision as a potential preventative measure against HIV/AIDS. Right from the start it was clear that the readers of this forum were equally as concerned with the value of the science behind this declaration as they were with the power of agency and socio-political dimension that could have influenced and skewed the science in favour of male circumcision. To many this was a “western conspiracy”:

• “You need to be careful of these Americans who come to African forums to sell their ideas and to teach to the "stupid Africans."
• “Appeal to authority is nothing but intellectual laziness or incompetence. One should actually do a critical analysis of the evidence itself, and not rely on 'big brother" to do the thinking for them.”
• “.... For all the good work Stephen Lewis does he is a hypocrite in this case. He speaks against programs designed to promote behaviour change as being 'neocolonialist' yet sees absolutely no problem with telling African Men what they should be doing with their own bodies.”

Such reactions towards research in general are fairly common and well documented within medical anthropology journals and mainstream media. Four years before the article above was published, I had conducted an ethnographic study on people’s knowledge, attitudes and beliefs towards medical research using a trial on male circumcision as a case study in a town in western...

MP Taxation - Who is Fooling Who

2008-11-29T10:12:00.000+03:00

I have been following the MPs taxation debate keenly, but also with a lot of anger. First I felt angry watching the speaker equate paying of taxes with charity, and then upon hearing that the minister for Industrialization said that he did not know where taxes go therefore he could not pay taxes (surely if a cabinet minister does not know where taxes go, what then is expected of us mortals?). The prime minister is on record as saying that the MPs have too much commitment to pay taxes (mortgages and loans), as if we ordinary Kenyans are also not interested in the finer things of life as well. My anger dissipated as soon as I realized that we are dealing with politicians anyway and therefore they are just keeping in character.

Things however got a bit complicated when I started hearing that there were MPs who were now 'volunteering' to have their pay taxed. Make no mistake, I appreciate people submitting themselves to be taxed, but this is mere hypocricy. Would it not have made sense for them to stand on the floor of the House and actually vote for taxation? The cabinet, if you count the assistant ministers, has slightly over 90 MPs...I am sure if the President, the PM and Michuki whipped them in line, then we would have seen a real commitment by the Government to have the proposals pushed through, and even if the Government lost in the process, Kenyans who have been able to separate the wheat from the chaff.

Lastly, how will the public be able to keep tabs on the so called tax volunteers? Will they publish their payslips every month for us to ascertain that indeed they have been taxed?

The Fear to "Name"

2008-11-21T14:03:00.000+03:00

Just to follow up on what Oby (quoted below) mentioned in response to the Obama article posted...

"I do not belive this. Did you notice how many times the pronoun 'we' is used? I do not agree with this collective implication. It is not true that WE killed Tom Mboya, Pinto, JM or Ouko. Everybody know WHO did that and trying to make us all feel guilty for that I protest. This is part of the problem we suffer from, refusing to put the blame squarely where it belongs." - Oby

Just to follow up on what Oby (quoted) mentioned in response to the Obama article posted...

For some reasons we feel comfortable in making everything collective, and there seems to be a phobia in naming things or people by name. For example when Kikuyus and Kalenjins fight in Kuresoi, the media will often say "two communities", yet we know who these are. There is a general fear in the political community in terms of confronting realities head on. We are now witnessing this in the circus being played out in the Waki report saga...

BARACK OBAMA AND THE GRAVEYARD OF HOPE WAMBUI MWANGI (2008-08-11)

2008-11-19T10:57:00.000+03:00

Hey guys, something interesting I found...

I am finding it very difficult to join in the jubilation about Senator Barack Obama. Not that I want to deny the man his victory, but my impulse to celebrate keeps deflating on the idea that the best thing that happened to little Barack was not growing up in Kenya .

I have been imagining alternative trajectories for him if he had come to know the world through the eyes of a Kenyan citizen, if his mother and grandparents had not rescued him from our chaos and contradictions and brought him up somewhere his intellect and talent could grow.

If he had grown up here, and had he somehow managed to retain most elements of his current self, he would have been another outstanding, intelligent and competent Luo man in our midst: and he would have been killed.

Yes, we would have assassinated a Barack Obama if he had remained ours, with us, one of us here in this schizophrenic cauldron we call home. This is not going to stretch the imagination of any Kenyan - after all, when we had that incredibly good-looking and charismatic home-grown hero, Tom Mboya, we shot him to death. And when that austerely intellectual and elegant leader, Robert Ouko, threatened to look overly intelligent to the world, we killed him too. We killed Pio Gama Pinto and we killed JM Kariuki. There is no reason to suppose that Barack Obama, whose integrity of purpose and stringent sense of ethics even his enemies concede, would have survived his Kenyan roots.

He is much too intelligent, too charged with the promise of history, too bold in his claim to a shining destiny, too full of the audacity of hope, for us to have let him survive. Kenya would have killed Barack Obama, or at least his dream, as we inevitably destroy, in one way or another, the best and the boldest of us. Goldenberg whistle blower David Munyakei's challenge to his country to be bigger than our greed was met with a whimper, and then with rapid abandonment. We did not deserve him, either.

As for John Githongo, he should have known better than to take the idea of public ethics seriously - this is Kenya , after all. Let him enlighten people at Oxford instead; such considerations are too virtuous for us, too sensible, too conducive to a promising future. We do not even remark on the haunting wastage of all this shining accomplishment - Micere Mugo sings her lyrical poetry for Americans, and we do not even know enough to mourn the loss.

And yet we are all enchanted with the power of the idea of Barack Obama, the hope of him, the beauty of his life's trajectory, the universe of possibilities and probabilities that it conjures for the least of the rest of us. If someone's cousin's friend's neighbour makes it to the United States ... then we all have a chance. We have a strange predilection for schizophrenic loves and loyalties; we let geography dictate our alliances and imaginary lines decide our friends. It is as if our social contract states that here, at home, we are obliged to behave like fighting rats to each other but when abroad, when released from the shackles of kin and clan and conclave, we can fly and soar and master the sky.

When Wangari Maathai is abroad, we feel that her Nobel Prize is partly represented in each of our Kenyan living rooms; when she comes home, she is just another Kikuyu politico. We preen about our athletes winning yet another international competition to anybody who will give us half a chance, but when they are at home we turn them into more fodder for militias.

Caine Prize winners are Kenyan by automatic assent, but Binyavanga Wainaina is a Kikuyu writer when at home and Yvonne Owuor is indelibly a Luo - we shrink them to fit the midget-sized visions we have of ourselves.

It is clear to all of us, and the evidence continues to accrue, that we have, collectively, a certain global competence, as Kenyans, that we produce individuals of substance and historical purpose.

Being Kenyan, however, we prefer to drown in the pettiness of our parochial quarrels when at home, and if one of us threatens to be too hopeful, too ambitious, too intelligent, too creative or too inspirational to fit into our trivial little categories of hatred and suspicion, we kill them, or exile them from our societies, or we just cause them to run away inside, hiding from us and from themselves the grandeur of their souls, the splendid landscapes of their imagined tomorrows.

Nothing but the worst for us, at home. We recognise each other by our most rancid rhetoric. We insist upon it, we cultivate it, we elevate it to an art form: Kenyan, and quarrelsome.

Kenyan, and clannish... Kenyan, and counter-productive. Kenyan, and self-destructive. Kenyan, and consistently heart-breaking. Genius everywhere and not a thought to be had. Promise and potential everywhere, and not an opportunity to be had. Money everywhere and not an honest penny to be earned. Helicopters aplenty, but no help for the needy. A land awash in Cabinet ministers and poverty.

I have been watching Kenyans getting high on Obamamania, and I am wondering what we are so happy about? It is perhaps that we are beginning to acknowledge what we should always have known - given a half a chance, an ever so slightly conducive context, Kenyans are more likely to over-achieve than not. At the faintest provocation, Kenyans will leap past expectations without breaking their stride or breaking a sweat, especially if they happen to have escaped the imprisoning edifice we call home and found foreign contexts to flourish in, no matter how alien.

I went to a town in the Canadian Arctic once, in the far north, where in summer the sun shines even at midnight and in the winter the world is an endless landscape of ice and snow. Here, far, far away from home, where nothing was familiar except the gentleness of elderly Inuit women and the comforting weirdness of the white residents, I was told that the local dentist had, for many years, been a Kenyan. Everybody said he had been an excellent dentist, out there in the desert of the cold. I was unsurprised.
We are an adventurous people, we Kenyans, and we take to the world outside our home as if born to a conquistador culture - we are brave and brash and bold, out there. We buy and sell things, and make money at it, out there. We go to school and excel and cover ourselves with accreditations, out there. We win things, out there. We get prizes, out there. We are at our best, out there.

However, at home, for some reason we refuse to either acknowledge or examine - we have chosen simply to set aside this capacity. Here, at home, nothing but the very lowest common denominator will do; nothing but the basest and most brutal aspects of our selves are to be presented to each other; nothing but the most cynical manipulation is the basis of our political space. We prefer to be ruled by individuals whose mediocrity is matched only by their mendacity, here at home.

We prefer to abdicate our adult responsibilities and capacity for reason to "leaders" whose lack of virtue is as legendary as our attractively exotic pastoralists. We do not only waste talent, here at home - we go out of our way to suppress and repress it. We do not only deny dreams, here in Kenya - we devour them, and ask each other, "Who do you think you are?" As if the success of another is an affront.

In Kenya , grand vision and soaring imagination is illegitimate; here, they just call you naive. Out there, you stand a chance of becoming a hero; at home, you will have nothing but the taste of ashes in your mouth. Mothers, take your children abroad.

Barack Obama has written two books, in which he discusses ideas. Ideas. This is a man with vision and conviction, and enough good ideas that even those who do not like the pigmentally-advantaged are listening, and changing their minds.

Even those who think that his name sounds suspiciously like a terrorist's are reading his books and listening to his speeches, and changing their minds. This is a man with interesting and inspiring things to say - which disqualifies him from any Kenyan-ness we would have liked to claim.

Americans like the image of them that Barack Obama has painted in words; which Kenyan leader would dare to build dreams bigger than his roots? Which Kenyan leader would ever be so foolish as to attempt inspiration instead of instigation?

Barack Obama has seduced the world by the power of his persuasiveness, and while Kenyans raise another glass to the accomplishments of "one of our own," it seems clear to me that we gave up our rights to him when we gave up our hopes for ourselves. When we settled for incompetence, and corruption, and callousness, we defined ourselves out of his universe, and out of his dreams.

We rejected Barack Obama-ness when we allowed those pangas to slash our dreams, when we watched our hopes spiral away in smoke. We allowed the ones who had done this to become the only mirrors of ourselves, and then squelched our disgraced selves back to the mire of our despondency.

Barack Obama cannot be a Kenyan, and Kenyans cannot grasp Barack Obama's dream. We have already despaired of it, and of ourselves. His dream would have died with ours, here at home, here in the graveyard of hope.

But oh, how we yearn to see ourselves reflected in his eyes...

*Wambui Mwangi is an assistant professor of Political Science at the University of Toronto, Canada. This article first appeared in The East African, June 15 2008.

Can't Write

2008-11-17T18:09:00.000+03:00

The stuff that happened over the weekend in Kuresoi and the discussions that have since followed have left me feeling like I cant' write. No voices of reasons. Will be back in a couple of days though...I still need to gather my thoughts and see if there are leaders talking sense out there.

Cabinet Shies Away From Discussing Waki

2008-11-14T14:13:00.000+03:00

Once again President Kibaki is proving that he is averse to taking risks as far as tough political decisions are concerned. Of course this is in line with keeping with his character. What I can't understand though is the Prime Minister. Many of us had always expected Raila to be more aggressive and tell it as it is. We had glimpses of this when he started by tackling the Mau Forest and the rot at KPA issues. on both issues he now seems to have given in to the demands of other politicians. This does not seem to be the man i queued for several hours to vote for.

Again, unless our politicians start taking bulls by the horn, Kenya shall remain the same old.

What Happened to Rev. Musyimi?

2008-11-13T20:14:00.000+03:00

A few years ago Rev. Musyimi was being touted as potential presidential candidate, until of course Raila declared 'Kibaki Tosha!'. Last year the man of cloth retired from the church and plunged into politics, eventually becoming the Gachoka MP via PNU. When the country eraptued into post election violence, nothing much was heard from the man who had been touted the voice of reason. When there was a cabinet formation stalemate, the chap was missing in action. At the height of the Kriegler and Waki report debates, the man is conspicously absent. When the public is raising an outcry against MPs fight not to be taxed, mum is the word for the good Reverend. When is this guy going to speak?

It looks like the comforts of Kenya's Parliament is such that even the best intentioned of fella's tongues gets tied. And he is not the first man who has gone to Parliament with the public's great expectations only to go silent. I have also been trying to watch the likes of Ababu Namwamba, Shakeel Shabir, Millie Odhiambo and Kabando wa Kabando but so far I am not impressed. Looks like the mabadiliko we all craned for is not going to happen soon. We need an Obama to emerge here but when I look at the horizon, I cant' see anybody. Can someone please drop me a name?

Cabinet Discusses Waki Report

2008-11-13T11:10:00.000+03:00

The Cabinet is meeting today to discuss the contentious Waki Report, with the Waki envelop threat hanging over some of their heads. I for one, I am very sceptical about the cabinet taking any risks that would put their careers on the line, but I beleive that this matter must somehow be brought to a close if this country is to move ahead. And especially those whose names are rumoured to be in the envelop, it helps to sort out this matter once and for all with 2012 still far away. Raila has already intimated that he is ready to quit the Government if he discoveres that ODM leaders were victimized in the report....question is, can this report bring down the coalition government?

Space to rant and organize

2008-11-11T18:10:00.000+03:00

I have created this space to rant and share my ideas on the political scene in Kenya. For long I have sat back and listened to our politicians and their loyal supporters spew all manner of nonsense and I have decided I am not going to take it lying down. I will now start challenging them and this is as good a place as any to start.