In Kenya, BAD is GOOD. Morality and integrity has never been a consideration of leadership, so what makes us shamefaced when a script with the cast we picked is played? What makes us burrow our heads in shame, or even look away? The most bold of us, put a brave face and curse, abuse, disown and chastise. Even the ones looking away throw a pebble, a stone, or something at the fellows who seemingly have hurt our very perfect society fabric. You know when you air your dirty linen, I will laugh, not because mine is clean, but there is some consolation when I see yours has some ‘holes, not one perhaps, many or more than my holes’ or it’s faded, or it has some hideous colour, heh heh! And that makes me feel better about my probably more deplorable state, no?
What has all of a sudden become so shaming about two grown ups who have decided to abandon the chastity of their marital vows and run into each other’s arms? Would it be okay if it never soured up and we, the righteous jury never got wind of it? I am an ardent lover of books and in my elementary literature, especially drama reading, I learnt that the characters would always represent the society, so that when you laugh and condemn for example, Wak in John Ruganda’s Shreds of Tenderness, for running away when his country gets into some political mess and everyone has gone into the bush, and you are wondering with the other readers , ” but how could he empty the last coins in the family’s coffers, leaving a sickly mother, and goes into exile for a whooping 10 years, only to crawl back home with some tiny sling bag”. But how could he? Coward! This is because we mostly love to look at the happenings of the society as a mirror but we refuse to believe it is a representation of who we are. We refuse to believe that common narrative that has lived with us, how we love BAD. Anyone who points to the flaws of choosing corrupt leadership or even leaders who lack a strong moral fibre is our enemy. There is something that he is seeking to exploit in us. We love our devils, and we like it when they are daredevils. So what’s the melee when our devils go out on a parade, and we see corruption, we see murderers in suits, we see mercenaries, and generally immoral demons scouting for us to admire them?
What annoys is that we have turned into a society that despite having a choice, we still find ourselves with the worst selection. Every five years, we get a proposed cast of as many, demons, angels, a mix of both, and with different levels of demonism, and different doses of angelism, but we love to choose the worst. Because the BAD is our representation. Though we love to cringe when it’s displayed for our world to see. As much as blame lies on leadership, to lead by example, they are drawn from us, much like us, only that we don’t like vetting them, and even if we vet, we like the worst. If we make a primer of leadership values, we prefer A-Autocracy , we prefer to say B-Bureucracy,….D-Dictatorship and we go on (not that we can agree on this, and this seems to be democracy, only that what is democractic is so depending on what angle we are viewing it from. Even the soft among us may say, A-Amen, and assent to everything flagged to them, and when you question, they say B-Maybe Blood of Jesus (safer side) or Blood split by our courageous martyrs, our heroes, when they want to have some political relevance to the talk. We discuss this further and our democratic views cannot find a congruence, and since we are getting further into our political game, and the elections are drawing close, we draw the curtain on discussions and go to what we know best…T-for Tribe/Tribal affiliation etc, and we choose whomever. Our indicators that guide expected outcomes could include, those who “steal and share the loot’ et al.
And so here we are. A political ride of Five years, stuck with a leadership that stink of impunity, privatized corruption etc. We have Tana Clashes, hundreds are dead, before we get answers, a terrorist attack, and even before tears are dry on eyes, some Billions walk out of closed doors. Unaccounted billions, hands in pocket, straight faced, neck firm on the shoulders in a confident gait. Billions, just like that. The Billions dressed in an expensively pressed suit, even turn their shoulders to look back or twice, not that anyone cares to follow or look, but customarily it has learnt from other smaller monies that disappeared that no-one will be hot in pursuit. I don’t know whether these billions are what we loaned from International Banks, or what is earmarked for the Infrastructure budget. I don’t know whether it is part of what I pay in income taxes (let’s not start this difficult discussion). I don’t even know whether it’s part of that ‘new small tax’ I noticed a week ago, when I separately did some bank transactions, and there was something like kes 220 in Bank A, and a different bank Kes 150 (in new taxes). All that I know is no one knows where Mr. Walkaway Unaccounted Billions went. We will commission a search, by giving some retired fellows something to do with their time, and as any other report, nothing will be enforced, not even better controls.
And our die seems cast. Only we like it that way. If my person is eating, I know he will share with my people. He might devolve the loot. And even if he doesn’t, am okay when his stomach is full. And so our expectations get lower. Our leadership seems to have learnt our psychology well, so that they can predict our behaviour. So when a debated issue of national importance comes up, and we are all macho demanding answers, the political leaderships throws to us, like dogs a piece of bone to keep us busy. We growl over it but they know our focus is on the bone, and while we are it, we forget other key issues that demanded answers, that needed dialogue, that needed us to question our conscience. It could be some two politicians, one that has landed a stingy slap on another, or two caught pants down, and as much as we should ask questions that regard our torn moral fabric, in fact our society fabric is a sack cloth now, there is nothing to hide, we walk with our chapped buttocks bared for all to see, but when they laugh at you, you realize you also have something to laugh back at them. Unfortunately, even the men of cloth are caught in it, so that many no longer have a moral obligation to curse some of these demons. Like those folks in the bible(sons of Sceva) who went to cast out some demons in a man, and the devil had its day, what of its strong nerve in saying, “Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who art thou folks?”. This was before they were pounced upon, overpowered, they run from that house wounded. Can’t the remaining unbowed stand up to be counted then?
We are a society that suffers collective amnesia. But I feel that our condition is a little complex, like collective selective amsenia. Maybe we need urgent check up. And Visit our society back yard to start sorting our rot, and however vintage a piece looks, if’s not functional to our present theme of unity and development, moving forward, it ought to be cast away. Otherwise some of these bones we so want to cherish and keep will some day speak to us from our back yards. Our dust-balls will become too big to hide. And even if not for our sake, we want to have a sane talk with our children some day, that our country was built on good values. But hey, the rot is too much. Do your part. One day you will owe the country a clear conscience, though a drop in the ocean, that you did your part well.
It’s Moi day, I don’t even know why it would have historical importance, except that it would be bliss to miss school years back. Have a reflective one, and be the change you want to see in the world.
WRITEthinking 