Showing posts with label Conversations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conversations. Show all posts

Monday, December 30, 2013

Rich people and large amounts


What makes one great? Is it the fact that their deeds are great or is it because people think their deeds are great? Social Media has become a tool with which we can lie, boast or dream of how perfect our imperfect life is.  

Mark 12: 41-42
. . . many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.


Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Credo Kama Sigara



Two young men lie under a tree smoking. It is their ‘lunch break’. Since they have no money for lunch, they share a smoke instead. They are lucky to be employed though, this new government started an initiative called 'Kazi kwa Vijana' where young men are given slashers, jembes, spades and wheelbarrows to do menial work for three hundred shillings a day. 

With three hundred shillings a day, you not only skip lunch, you don’t have breakfast either. This is if you are to feed the children back at home, pay the rent at the end of the month and survive in this city. A phone rings and before the shorter one among them answers the call it goes silent.

‘Nani huyo anakuflash, hajui kuna bamba ngovo siku hizi jo,’ the tall one with the cigarette, which is almost halfway smoked, taunts the shorter brother with the phone.

The shorter one looks at his phone and his face is undecided on whether to frown or be concerned.

‘Ni matha bana’ he says, ‘alikuwa anadai ganji fulani nabado sina any. But itabidi nimpigie.’

‘Wewe ulitupa mbao’ the one with the cigarette says between puffs, ‘Kazi kwa vijana si kazi, mbona uliwaambia umepata job? Saa hii wanadhani umeshika mkwanja noma. Mimi home wanajua bado niko jobless so hakuna msee ananiitisha ganji.’

‘Wee unanimalizia fegi!’ the short one says as he yanks the cigarette from his friend’s fingers. After a long drawn puff, he turns to the friend, ‘Nisaidie na ashu niget bamba. Matha anaeza kuwa na emergency.’

‘Acha zako bana. Buy ata credo ya finje jo, ashu hauwezi ata sema hallo ukamaliza’ the tall one says laughing

'Acha nikushow' the short one retorts 'credo ni kama sigara. Ukinunua packet utavuta mob bila mpango. Ukinunua credo mob utapigia wasee bila design. So vile mimi hu-buy sigara moja moja ndio nisivute mob ndio vile pia mimi hu-buy credo ya ngovo ngovo ndio Safaricom wasimange ganji yangu. Ni kubaya jo!’

‘Yenyewe kama imefika hapo, ni kubaya!’

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Lord Ouma!

Have you ever met a man so great that you cant describe him in words? I have not just met such a man, I have known him for quite a while now. Lord Ouma is one of those characters that can only be described as phenomenal.

Lord Ouma comes from Busia like I do but I knew him because of his son, my best buddy so far and a former schoolmate.

I was therefore enthralled to stumble upon a witty article by one Biko Zulu (who I find to be the best blogger in Kenya yet) on Lord himself. Biko was talking about what a car can tell you about its owner in his article Cars; their stories and thank God he spotted Lord Ouma's KPP. What followed was the most candid rendition I've ever seen or heard about Lord Ouma. I've annexed the section about Lord and shared it below with permission from Biko.

Have a good look at this man’s face. Look at his eyes. What do you see in them? The answer is nothing. Now forget about all that wind about telling a man’s character by looking into his eyes. You can’t, at least not entirely. But this man’s face is a storyboard and it has that lopsided character weighted from cynicism. This is how a cynic’s face looks like. This is the face of a man who questions things. A curious man. This look here says, “Oh, is that right, son?” This look here is a look of a man who has lived his life believing that not everything is what it seems.




Look at his hat. I like his hat, perched atop his head like an afterthought. But you can tell it was intentional, this hat. You can tell from his hat that he still seeks swag. This hat might not be trendy, but it’s his hat and he never leaves his house without it.


This man was a cop for 35 years, most of which he worked for the Interpol’s anti- narcotics wing. The Narcs, as they call themselves. Who could have guessed?


His name is Mzee Ouma. He is in his 70’s. He is retired, over ten years in retirement. He spends his day sitting in his bar, drinking what he calls “Coffee spirit.” I found his car before I found him and his car led me to him. His car is a 1970 Fiat. Old as the hills. I asked a couple of boys next to it who owed it and they told me to find him in the bar. And I did.


When I walk in, he is seated in his darkened bar. His socked feet are stretched on top of the table, next to his drink. He regards me coldly as I shuffle in and introduce myself. He offers me a rumbled handshake, a weathered handshake, the handshake of an old man. I tell him I love his car and I would like to ask him a few questions regarding it. He motions me to an empty chair.


He takes his time before he talks, as if he is stringing the sentences and editing it in his head before he utters them. It’s old age maybe. He asks me what I do. I tell him I’m a scribe.


“Can I see some ID?”


I hand him my press card. He gingerly removes his reading glasses from its case and pores over my Press card, then he does something odd. He asks the lady at the counter to bring the day’s newspaper. “Now show me which article you have written today.”


I tell him I don’t write on the Friday paper, that I write mostly on Saturdays and occasionally on the sister paper. He absorbs this for a while before asking if I’m writing about his car for the newspaper.


“No,” I say, “It’s for my blog.”


“What is that?”


“It’s like a diary.”


“Only women write diaries!”


Some moron seated two chairs away chuckles heartily at that. He finds that really funny, the funniest thing he has heard in a while. I want to ping a beer glass off his skull.


“It’s not like a diary, diary,” I stammer, “It’s like something you write on the internet.”


He grunts. I’m hoping that’s not a sign that he’s about to fall asleep; you know how old people are, if you bore them they will sleep.


“Who reads this, this, thing?”


“Blog.”


“Yes. Who reads it?”


You know that’s a question I have been asking myself lately. Who reads this blog? Truth is I don’t know. I know their pseudonyms, but that helps as much as broken clock.


“That’s a good question.” I say reflectively to which he stares, no scowls, down at me obviously expecting an answer.


“Well, the people who read blogs are faceless.”


One of his eyebrows arches up.


“I mean to say, it’s hard to say exactly who reads, but I want to think they are like me.”


“Like you?” he asks.


“Normal.”


He cracks the first reluctant smile.


“Do you make money of this, this…thing?”


“Blog.”


“Yes, blog.”


“No, at least not yet.”


“So why do you do it?” This question is punctuated by a look that implies that I’m sort of stupid.


“Probably the same reason why you sit in this bar daily drinking your coffee spirit.”


He stares at me, an intimidating look that says “Oh, we have a smartass in town gentlemen.”




Anyway, he talks about his car. He bought it for Ksh 17,000n at F. Boyare Kenya Ltd.




“Is it still there?” he asks.


“Yes, it’s outside.”


“I mean F. Boyare Ltd, not my car.”


He says F. Boyare is a motor store at the junction of Harambee Avenue and Parliament Road. Maybe it was, in 1975, not now I tell him. He says he has kept the car for this long because it’s “durable,”. He adds that its spares are authentic, not the knock offs that are sold now. He scorns at automatic cars, calls them “Lazy.” He loves the stick shift because it’s a good form of exercise. He takes me outside and he proudly pops open the bonnet and shows off the engine. He starts the car and revs it, and then while the engine idles he steps out and stares at his car with a pride that is fun to observe.


Back in his bar, he opens this old but cool leather case which contains certificates and land title deeds and all these important papers and there he shows me the receipt he bought the car with. He also shows me the receipt for the first car he ever bought, a Datsun in 1963. As expected with old people conversation drifts to his time at the police force, his long travels in America and Europe. He shows me a medal he earned at Interpol. He talks about the Russia’s KGB, the America’s FBI and the Scotland Yard. He tells me he can tell a druggie a mile away. He can tell the quality of cocaine by tasting it.


“Have you ever shot and killed anyone?” I ask.


He ignores that question like I never asked it. He talks about his son instead, the one who “just died.” I say I’m sorry to hear that and he waves it away dismissively. He talks about another son who went to Makerere University to study but came back without graduating. “Drunk too much in Wandegye, yes?” I say with a chuckle. He talks about his kids who “have disappeared in America.”


“How many children do you have?” I ask.


“Several.” Comes the curt answer. Several could be 50 kids you know, but I don’t want to pursue that.


“Do you fear dying?” I ask.


“Why?” he asks preposterously, a question that acts as my answer.

He has lived his life well, he says. He loves his twilight years. When he talks about his children he harbors little bitterness. He loves to sit in his bar and drink his coffee spirit or whatever. When I ask him what he regrets most about his life, he thinks for a moment and replies, rather dishonestly, “nothing.”



“Not one thing you wish you did differently?” I insist


“I’m happy with my life.”


So I ask him what quality one needs to live a successful life. The maxims of life that can help us navigate life successfully.


“Honest and integrity,” he says, “Be satisfied with what you have. Don’t aspire for riches; make enough to offer decent education for your children, to buy a decent house to live well. Wealth kills; it will bring disease and grief into your life. Greed for money will be what finally kills young people.”


I realized that throughout our talk he never did once mention God. Not to imply that he wasn’t spiritual, but I would imagine that a man in his twilight years would by default throw in God in his conversation. Or maybe he was being respectful not to call the good lord’s name in a bar.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Police Brutality - Fanya Fujo Uone

There are some things called tools of trade. A policeman's rungu is one such tool. Our tax money is spent to buy these rungus so that they can be used to beat up citizens when talking just won’t do and I’ve never heard anyone complain about this.

In Kenyan riots the police normally dispatches regular and administrative police to disperse rioters. In case the rioters overpower these, the elite GSU squad is then dispatched and I have never heard of a case where the GSU were overpowered because their nature is to flatten everything on sight. That is their job description.

In a shoot-out between police and a gangster in Nairobi's Buruburu estate recently, the regular police spent hours trying to smoke out a lone gun man in vain. When the GSU RECCE squad arrived, the gun man was finished in minutes. That's how the GSU work.

I was therefore not happy when some people were putting pressure on the police to sack an officer who clobbered an elderly woman the other day (watch video here). Why sack someone for doing his job?

These were the GSU and by the time they arrived at the scene, the woman - or anybody in their right senses - should have rushed as far away from the scene as is humanly possible. These people swear during their Passing out Parade to beat up even their mothers if need be. That's what they are trained and employed to do

Otherwise the GSU should be sent to riot scenes with bibles to preach peace, not with rungus.

Monday, August 29, 2011

That was MASENO for you.

Location: Kenya, All over the world, Internet, MASENO SCHOOL
Cast:        Maseno School Class of 2000 Jambazis
Time:       Past & Present
Source:   #MukuruKwaZuckerberg 



Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala
For those out of the know, am the one and only Otiato Opali! 4G Mafia! Member of the I-riginal G7 made of I, Douglas Ndombi Okhungu Chris Angwech Haig Aseda Aholyx Bobb Lee Odiga and Clifford Ongugo! Eat That!

Chris Angwech ‎
Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala, I think u r forgetting the one n only Wuod Ongele Doc Doc, and waz Douglas Ndombi Okhungu really in the pic? I think this waz only a Bowers Crew Affair!

lol! very true, the I-riginal G7, hii ya akina Ruto ni shadow

Douglas Ndombi Okhungu

I was a member incognito. I think the admin mistakenly sent me to Stansfield instead of Bowers..lol. I missed out on the photo with all heads together that later turned out to be Papa's imagined evidence for DW. Chris Angwech and i were ordered not to be seen within 3m. of each other.

hahaha,,when seen together school captain's office pap! Then the next morning ,,, "after the assembly may I pliz meet Douglas Ndombi Okhungu and Chris Angwech thankyou"!

The DW suspension letters came while we were @ the music festivals!

i donno what illegal stuff Jim was smoking

Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala, Chris Angwech; Rem. Papa was related to my neighbour in Ksm then i paid back big time when i hooked up with one of his nieces. Mimi fala nikamshow siku moja ka ashaniona na chuma ya umbrella. Waar! Sasa ndio chuki ikazidi. Its funny we could meet in Ksm after 2000 severally na bado na-smile naye!

Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala umenikumbusha mbali sana! The day i went to take a sh!t kwa toi then kumaliza natoka nje napata Nyamila n co. waiting for me. Ati fungua mdomo tunuse kama ulikuwa unatumia drugs huko ndani. No hard feelings but i wish hiyo siku singesuguwa meno asubuhi wapate mdomo ikinuka diambo. lol.

This is what am talking about!!!! The crew wamesema.


Otiato Tell them u were in 1R kabla ujaenda 1G.Remwith the mzungu bio teacher

Tom kumbe una memory! Tulikuwa 1R na kina Ben El Rey Wandera Clifford Lukaye Bob Annon etc Mambo biad!


na Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala uliniudhi sana ukienda 1g bro

Ben El Rey Wandera Sikuchagua, ilikua mashetani ya one Jim Papa Agutu!

hahahaaaaaaaaaa..............si kwa ubaya bro

weee, ulikuwa mtundu, si Jim

The Bowers Seven. Ati unasuspendiwa juu ya kupiga picha na vichwa pamoja.


Douglas Ndombi Okhungu

One day i left my sugar tin open then roaches dropped their sh!t in it. Unfortunately that was inspection day so my tin was confiscated and i had to clean all the droppings and hand them over to the authorities led by Hesbon Okeyo. After a ...week i was summoned to the office only to find my Dad sitted in a meeting explaining why i should not be suspended for using drugs. Kumbe Papa and his crew had taken the extra droppings and filled them in my sugar tin then went ahead to claim that the droppings were KUBER and i mixed it with sugar and got high during breko and carbon time. Kwani walidhani my Dad, The late WJO and The late Mr. Odundo who was present hawana senses za kunusa. I dint have much to say, Buda alichomoa wallet akaniangushia shillingi kadha and i was ordered to go back to class and represent the school well in National Schools Drama festival that was around the corner. LMAO!

Boss! Papa's methods were wrong!

basi douglas okhungu ulipitia mambo kweli.get saved n drink booze with christian names only,like Jack Daniels..e.t.c

Ogero Otekki Musa

BTW who authorized those weird inspection hours?..opali it resulted in that wash and wear shirt rule.,it was said they should not get you with more than one shirt and still you pulled through..,enyewe we survived difficult times.,house a...ssembly collar inspections.,wuz caught with carbon coated shirt n boycotted kuenda ku squat hapo mbele ya assembly.,wuz punished for a whole week.,but here i am today..,memories are made of this.

Douglas Ndombi Okhungu

‎Bob Annon haha! Ata usiseme. Kuna chupa ya Tomatoe sauce i used to scavange spices with then carry with to the DH. The day i was visited, i threw it inside my mabati box that i rarely used as an F4. Mimi fala nikaisahau huko ndani and as y...ou know the kidogo content that was left fermented with time. As usual, i was only being inspected by the big guys so by the time my good friend and Hse Capt Oliver Ogutu Omondi found it, the bottle was almost exploding. Wacha aifungue..ile pungent smell ilimchapa..waar! I couldnt blame him for taking it to Papa who concluded that it was alchohol and specifically Bond 7. So according to Papa wakati wa lunch na supper i was busy mixing Bond 7 with Ugali and beans nikijibinjari. Really!!? LOL!
Edwin A. Ochieng
Enyewe kama kuna mtu jim aliswaga sana ni Opali...ulikuwa customer wake!


Haig Aseda
‎Douglas Ndombi Okhungu i feel you, Jim was a nutcase. He could accuse you falsely and make it look like a movie  


Gregory Okeyo
You guys are cracking me up like nothing else! No wonder bowere\s had most actors

Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala
I loved this ambigous statement Papa had stuck on his office door - Spare him not kill him! It meant different things dependin on how deep in sh!t u were.



Chris Angwech
man,,,these guyz convinced us to accept that we were DWs for us to be readmitted back to school! thats after 9 wks chillin @ home!! the charges were rediculous!


Chris Angwech
Papa wud pick up a ciggarette then call u and insist its urs and he saw u sneaking out of the house to smoke it in the middle of the night,,waaah


Ben El Rey Wandera
Torch ya battery nane na mbwa kaa kumi meanwhile zinakunusanusa buda ai the guy was a wizard

Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala
Halafu Nyang'or anasema kwa assembly '2moro we are going to Chulaimbo for volleyball, Permenas, Chris Angwech Douglas Ndombi Okhungu ongele etc have been banned from the cheering squad since they are a danger to security. In my absence, Festus Ogada will be the acting school Cap. SCHOOL . . . ATTENTION, dismissed!



Ben El Rey Wandera
hahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa


Ben El Rey Wandera
na anakubali wakora kama Alfayo Miguel a.k.a shem obaje etc waende


Chris Angwech
‎Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala, Douglas Ndombi Okhungu rem when we were to leave for Music Fests, papa tried to ban us but Duch cud hear none of it,,,we had clearance from WJO!!


Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala
Chris Angwech kwanini unadhani nilijipata handball, tena kwa school team! Ati wanatufukuza ICVS Roy Kush akani-adopt kwa handball team hehehe!

Douglas Ndombi Okhungu
Meeeen! Nobody protected us more than Duch and later on Mr. Odinga under the banner of Anti-Aids club. Kaka braza Silas Amunga J Namale pia akani-adopt kwa Rugby. Yaani tulikuwa tunapromote chuo vipoa lakini wengine walipenda tu kutuchokoza.



Silas Amunga J Namale
eroo waa


Douglas Ndombi Okhungu
Nakumbuka Papa aliniappoint SB mimi nikathani 'ameona mwangaza'. Kumbe it was a divide and rule ploy to keep me away from Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala, Chris Angwech and the rest of the crew. Alipogundua hawes make he sent emissaries to spy ...and finally the hummer fell on me when i was caught dancing ndombolo kwa DH after an inning. Ati SB's dont dance infront of visitors and a couple of weeks later cops had an inning and we could hear them sing and dance wakiwa Geog room. Talk of double stds.


John Adrian Yuko
That psycho papa got me suspended for an altercation. Na Biko during the holidays in nairobi yet the same biko amemaliza high school I still don't get that!!!

Bob Annon john
wats an altercation?that aside,papa was an idle man out of his mind,kabisa.



John Adrian Yuko
The guys who bore the full brunt of his madnes were akina opali,ndombi,angwech...axis of evil and once in a while one cartoon called philip aloo mwangi!!


Bob Annon
he he,Aloo mwangi..yeah,the guy was bent on destroying those boys.wonder wat his motivation was,am stil amazed.


Douglas Ndombi Okhungu
John Adrian Yuko i rem. the Biko saga. Yaani alishamaliza shule na bado unafwatana na wasee. He reminds me of the guyz who would cry ati shule zimefungwa na siku ya opening wanarauka ngware kutime breko ya shule. lol.


Douglas Ndombi Okhungu
‎Ogunde Arnold Aze a.k.a Aloo Mwangi.

Oliver Ogutu Omondi
....talking of Philip...i met with him this evening in tao. I think he was going to have some booze with friends.



Hesbon Okeyo
Use ua name so u dnt hav2 make along intro.


Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala
‎Hesbon Okeyo This is a virtual me and not really me ;-)


Haig Aseda
papa was way too idle, i spent my 9 out of 12 weeks of form 3 3rd term at home because of some stupid stuff he cooked in his head, i will never forget!!


John Adrian
Yuko papa ako wapi ako wapi.....niko hapa!!!

Edwin A. Ochieng
that guy was a bored adult...that is a dangerous combination with power!



Wuod Ongele Doc Doc
i once went to papa`s offiice4 he asked me wat i would like to be in future i told him i want to TREAT people he told me NEVER on earth, Fuck him hard i treated his kid and many other teachers wa maseno. i think papa was in love with guys from Kisumu. ALL Prefects who helped papa fuck with my life FUCK YOU ALL.


John Adrian
Yuko heh doc what is.....pewa achiel


Chris Angwech
omera osiepa John Adrian Yuko, ilal kanye?




Opali enyewe niambie ukweli Jim sahii hayuko. What happened ile siku nilikutuma sigara kubwa kisumu!!?...gave u doo when u were going to an outing in kisumu, u came back ukaniambia umekosa then few days later Jim ananiita na mashtaka ya bangi!...did u snitch me out?

Wuod Ongele Doc Doc
there was this prefect in bowers who had a big bro in owen house wat was his name? I can bet with you we never talked in form four ma prefects wat was papa givin you coz its sickening that you can be in the same school and year but not even joke with each other. Infact there some people i must go to their burial to confirm they are dead.


Wuod Ongele Doc Doc
i forgot the prefects who fucked my life and we have met and did not scream thief you are not in my bad books. Kiba wat progress has occured in the get together so that i can forgive the ones who tresspassed me and drink to all who were good to my life.


Haig Aseda
‎Wuod Ongele Doc Doc sometimes you've got to let these things go, it was part of life and it made us what we are today. The get-together should enable us recollect both the good and the not so good days back then so Anthony Kibagendi should keep us posted, meanwhile congrats kibah on your new addition


Muluvanga Imboko Ya Banyala
Edu, Papa would have wished I snitched for him but that was just a wish coz I would never. Doc, forgive but never forget!


one day I was called into Jeam office to get some nude magazine i had,it was reinforced with a cello-tape then placed nicely in my file then my parents were called to discuss the matter. The day they came very anxious to to take away their son,guess what happened,Mr,Agutu sent for my file.Remember the messenger of doom,I decided to faint.I hope Pato the dispenser can remember that incident. An ambulance was called and the story ended just like that.


Edwin A. Ochieng
Bana bruce u ought to have joined drama club, dutch would have utilized ur talent!

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Conversation with Ngugi Wa Thiongo

Before our last General Elections in 2007, Ngugi Wa Thiongo wrote an article about his take on the politics of the time. Read the article here - Ngugi Wa Thiong’o reflects on Mwai Kibaki and the 2007 Kenya General Elections I particularly took issue with some of the ideas fronted by my greatest writer on earth and did a comment on the article. Allow me to share the comment here since next year is an election year and the players are still pretty much the same. The issues too haven't changed a bit!

(It would be worth noting that Ngugi's article was written before Kibaki (allegedly) STOLE the elections leading to the post election violence in Kenya. Mine comment was written after the violence)

Mr Ngugi,

To say I am an ardent fan of yours would be an under statement. I named my pet dog after your character Matigari. Having studied Literature at the University, you struck me as Africa’s best yet but things are changing and am sad to note so.

This article is naive to say the least. It might have been written before the violence flared up and its no wonder it has such glaring gaps. In the article, you rightfully note that there are the haves and the have nots, Kibaki never changed this.

It took Kibaki Five years to do what Moi did in Ten years of his rule, create disparity between the rich and the poor. You remember, when Mwaura in the Petals of Blood led the villagers to the Golden Heights cave In illmorog, that is what the poor did after Kibaki’s government disenfranchised them. Like the crowd in Matigari, the people burnt down cars and houses in protest.

Dont misunderstand me, I am one of the most faithful students of your socialist take. ’Great Hapiness I saw among the women and the children, even a bean that fell on the floor was shared among them.’

The Viloence that occured after the election did not have a socialist push to it, and its because you have deserted us and there is no one to give us that guidance. What we have are politicians who take the revolutionary in us and make it flow along tribal lines. That is why it was a tribal upheaval and not a socialist one.

Though you display concerns in the article for the motherland with the mention of the Armenian brothers, the Anglo leasing scam and the ’Standard’raid, alot that goes on misses in the article. One cannot talk about the politics in Kenya and mention Kibaki’s name thrice without mentioning Raila even once.

You talk of your encounters with Kibaki, how he transformed from a hardliner for Kanu to a president and that was a good analogy but how about Raila. What about the almost ten years he spent in detention cells under Kibaki’s supervision. He shared the same detention facilities with you. How has he developed and what has he become. we need to hear your take on this. What’s more, Raila shares your communist ideals.

When your people tell you Kibaki has given them electricity, Kibaki’s allies have been given more than electricities. His friends businesses are growing threefolds. When he came to power, bread was Ksh 22, It is now Ksh 32, only after five years and the economy is growing. And the poor us have to buy this bread at the same price with the rich them.

One thing I am sure about you, Ngugi, is that you are biased towards the poor. It is for this reason that I ask you not to praise Kibaki because he has not helped poor kenyans anyway anyhow. And am talking about the kind of help you advocate for, not some small electricity here and some few boreholes there.

You remember when Gikonyo in A Grain of Wheat was swindled out of buying the settler’s farm by the politicians, that is what Kibaki has done to Kenyans. They trusted him to help them get prosperity like Gikonyo trusted the Politician and he took all the property for himself.

My biggest challenge to you, come back home. Dont be Like Leopold Sedar Senghor who wrote so much negretude against the french only to go and spend the rest of his life in France.

Otherwise, I am still your fan, I have read all your books except Murogi wa Kagogo and I still kind of worship you.

Otiato Opali (20 February 2008  at 14h16)

Friday, July 15, 2011

Kim Jong-iL

Recently someone wrote some graffiti in North Korea and the whole city of Pyongyang was almost shut down as they looked for the culprit responsible. In this day and age! When the world is so Liberal that Kenya has a Chief Justice donning a stud and the Anglican Church is ordaining gay priests, people still live in a country where graffiti is a sin!

Kim Jong Il is a shame and a sham! He doesn't deserve to lead human beings living in this millenium.

Am therefore sharing the graffiti with all who'll be able to see this (it was taken down immediately). Kim should know that the world is now a village and it is a matter of time before North Korea becomes FREE!!

The graffiti read;

“(The late South Korean President) Park Chung-hee, a dictator who helped develop the nation’s economy; Kim Jong-il, a dictator who made people starve to death.”



Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Uhuru 'bluffs' on Twitter.


The social media scene is a fairly new phenomenon to Africa especially where politics is concerned. It is interesting to find leaders like Museveni, Kagame, Uhuru, Martha Karua et al on twitter. However, leaders need to be very careful about what they say on the social media scene lest they be haunted by it in the future.


America’s Folksy Mama and presidential hopeful Sarah Palin recently referred to the STATUE of Liberty as the STATUtE of Liberty on twitter. This prompted questions on her knowledge of the American history. ( http://www.politicususa.com/en/sarah-palin-statue-of-liberty ) In the same vein, our very own Uhuru Kenyatta retweeted a tweet by one of his followers where it was stated that the national anthem reads



‘Natukae na undugu / Pamoja na Uhuru’ and not


‘Natukae na undugu/ Amani na Uhuru.’


This was a bluff that could be simply avoided by a keen eye. Dont just retweet everything that is said in your favour.


With the elections around the corner, politicians (or whoever manages the social media accounts for them) should be very careful. After all, the social media is just Media and media can make you or break you!

Thursday, November 13, 2008

A Question Deferred

What happens to a question deferred?

Almost five years ago, in 2003, a lecturer of mine and a good mentor asked me a question which went like:

We used to love watching the stars during our days in college, do you guys still watch the stars?

At this time I was a second year with my dreadlocks flowing, my ideas forming and my ways showing. Mr. t.m Mboya was one of my most trusted lecturers and a poet I still greatly admire.

I cant believe that being a poet, I had never understood what the question meant until yesterday when in my muse in tranquil, I finally had the opportunity to sit in the open field for hours on end into the night. As I looked at the stars, the five year old question popped up from nowhere! Being in the state I was, I finally understood what it means to watch the stars.

Yes sir, I do watch the stars!

Monday, October 13, 2008

And in other news...

The government has brushed aside protests by a section of the local people of Naivasha town. The group is protesting the sale of a public forest to a private developer.

The government has said the protesters are mainly drawn from a group of jobless good for nothing youth who use the forest as a venue for smoking bhang.

The forest in question is a priced spot on the terrace of the Rift Valley which is said to have the most picturesque sunset-view in the whole of Naivasha town. From the edges of the forest, visitors can witness one of the most scenic renditions of nature as the Rift Valley stretches to the horizons beyond.

It is on this expanse that the said protesters, who mostly spot dreadlocks and exhibit Rastafarian tendencies, spend most of their evenings. When asked about why they are protesting against the sale of the land, one of the red eyed fellows chanted ‘The concrete jungle eating our jungle man!’

The government through its spokesman has said it will not give in to the whining of delinquents. Addressing a press conference, the government spokesman said that orders have already been given to the police to arrest anyone who looks like Mungiki in the area.

Sources within the government have revealed to us that the forest has been sold to Libyan investors, claims which the Libyan embassy has declined to comment on. Our source tells us that the Libyans plan to build a seven star hotel on the contested spot.

Rumors have it that this is what the Libyan president Muammar Qadafi has in mind when talks about the United States of Africa.

Stay on the channel and we will be back after this commercial break.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Not in our accents

Statistics indicate that cases of men being drugged in Nairobi are on the rise (believe me, I was a victim). One wonders why this still happens when men have learnt to be careful over the years especially with 'suspicious looking' ladies who prowl places of entertainment.

Well, here lies the problem - the definition of 'suspicious lookin' . Being as Kenyan as we are, most men judge suspicious looking ladies to be Kikuyu. Most of the ladies from western Kenya have been assumed to be 'mafala' and since stealing is a trait to be associated with Kiuks, men think they can be safe when paying for the companionship of Luo and Luhya ladies.

News flash - wajinga wa western wameerevuka. 70% of the ladies drugging men around town are from western Kenya. They pass off as docile and since they are not Kiuks, men think they cant steal! Thievery is not a preserve of a certain tribe. As long as politicians will continue to use us and leave us poor, anybody might as well become a thief. Instead of fighting the people who are feeding off us (read politicians) we are busy judging one tribe as thieves, another as flossy and yet another as mafala.

Just go out, pick a lady from western because she is not from the thieving tribe and the only thing you will remember is the name she told you (She told me that her name was Mitchelle Achieng). This is because you will wake up after hours at a place you dont know with nothing on you.

These traits dont reside in our accents!

Monday, April 7, 2008

Rebel

“They say you mustn’t use it you mustn’t use it coz it will make you rebel… against what!?” Bob Marley.


Rebel against the lies. That one should have a whole lake to himself when a million of us scramble for a puddle. Not that he will use all the water in the lake, not that he needs all the water in the lake and not that we don’t need the water in the lake. But that he is ‘hard working’. He works so hard so that he can have a whole lake to himself while others scramble for a puddle.

That is how success is measured. Your ability to take what you don’t need from those who direly need it. To tell the people that I have what you want though I don’t need it and you must wag your tails in order for me to throw bits into your direction. That is a success story! They call it an exclusive lifestyle. Excluding the majority from having the basic necessities and heaping everything onto your self.

And when we try to create some time to think about it, whenever we try to open our eyes in order to see our shelter-less roofs, our cloth-less butts and our hollow stomachs they say you mustn’t. Whenever we try to look at the millions they have stolen from us to own unused bungalows, to clad in fabric that is more expensive than our life’s worth and to feed their cats what we can never put on our tables, they say you mustn’t.

And why is this? It’s because they know it will make us rebel. Rebel against the lies. That one should be considered great for denying others the pleasures of this life. That greatness no longer lies in brotherhood, it lies in the individual. That one can only be proud of eating to his fill when someone else sleeps hungry. That people can only recognize the richness of one’s clothing because others are walking naked. That people can only be dazed by one’s bungalows because others live in paper-bag houses.

They don’t want us to rebel. This is because through a rebellion I will not take a whole field to myself while others ‘squat’ in a corner. My friends, family and my people will all share this field, and we will play together on our field holding hands and singing in unison the songs of our fathers. We will run after our lovers and make love in the field among the flowers. 


But since they don’t want this, they say we mustn't,  we must never see the truth because it will make us rebel… against them!

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Mariwana!

The following is a quotation from a Doctor who was investigating the effects of the Herb and decided to use the participant observer method of collecting information, quite something!

"I had taken the drug with great skepticism as to its reputed action, or at any rate with the opinion that it was grossly exaggerated, and I accordingly made up my mind not to be 'caught napping' in this way again, and to keep a careful watch over my thoughts. But while enforcing this resolution as I supposed, I found myself, to my own astonishment, waking from a reverie longer and more profound than any previous. From skepticism, to the fullest belief of all I had read on the subject, was but a step. Its effects so far surpassed anything which words can convey, that I began to think I was on the verge of narcotic poisoning; yet, strange to say, there was not the slightest feeling of inquietude on that account. I resolved to walk into the street. While rising from the chair, another lucid interval showed that another dream had come and gone. While passing through the door, I was aware of having wandered again, but how or when I had permitted myself to fall into the reverie I was perfectly unconscious, and knew only that it seemed to have lasted an interminable length of time." Dr. John Bell in 1857

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Chichi dodos

The Nation Television (NTV) recently aired a section of Professor Ali Mazrui’s Documentary Film The African, A triple Heritage. The section entitled ‘Tools of Exploitation’ tells the story of Africans as inhabitants of Africa, and of Africans as those whose heritage and culture stem from Africa though slavery robbed them of this heritage.

Watching the documentary, one can’t help but admire with awe the depth of knowledge that Mazrui commands and the eloquent way with which he renders it in the documentary film. Produced in 1986, the film has nine sixty-minute sections in the documentary series. The triple heritage in the film refers to the three main cultural influences on Africa: traditional African culture, Islamic culture, and Western culture.


The 1933 born scholar definitely enjoys the membership of the crème de la crème club of Kenyan and indeed African scholars. Having done considerable research into the problems facing Africa since the days of slavery to the present day globalization fad, Professor Ali Mazrui and his peers owe their motherland guidance in the struggle against imperialism from the West.


In the ‘Tools of Exploitation’, Mazrui picturesquely talks of the forced labour that Africans had to accord the West through slavery and how this has made the West forge ahead economically leaving Africa lagging behind. This notwithstanding, listening to Mazrui’s remarks on this issue, reminds one of a bird called the Chichi dodo talked about in Ayi Kweyi Armah’s The Beautyful Ones are Not Yet Born.


In this novel, Ayi Kweyi Armah creates an analogy of this interesting bird. The Chichi dodo claims to be a very clean bird which hates any form of filth. The bird goes through all pains to keep filth out of its way. The ironical thing about the Chichi dodo is that despite its sanitary standards, it feeds on maggots which are found in animal excrement. The bird feeds from the filth it so loathes.


This brings a question to mind, are the scholars we have in Africa positivist only in as far as academia is concerned or are they actually drinking the wine they preach against. How thin is the line that separates scholarly renditions from heartfelt reflections on the African problem?


These questions pop up because in his film, Mazrui talks of Africans being forcefully uprooted out of Africa to go and help industrialize the West while in his time, Mazrui willingly goes to live and work in the West and consequently helps the West to advance further through his knowledge. Sounds more like the Chichi dodo talking about the moral filth of the West when you have to live there for your food.


Mazrui is not alone in this situation. Great African scholars have written great books and advanced enviable arguments about the problems facing Africa. Most of them trace the problems to the instability the colonial masters introduced in Africa and which the West is still perpetuating through neo-colonialism and imperialism. What leaves one baffled is the fact that most if not all of these scholars end up getting attracted to the lusture of the very West they blame for Africa’s problems.


With the world becoming a global village, arguing that African scholars should not seek to teach in the West would be naïve. This notwithstanding, such scholars need to put their knowledge to work for the benefit of their homeland and not play leading roles in the brain drain drama directed by the West.


While Professor Mazrui is a Professor in the Humanities and Director of the Institute of Global Cultural Studies at Binghamton University, New York, in Africa, he holds the ceremonial positions of Professor-at-Large at the University of Jos in Nigeria and Chancellor of the Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology in Kenya. I would like to believe that our ailing education systems need more attention from our scholars than the departments in New York universities.


Writers like Ngugi Wa Thiong’o have spent their whole lives fighting the capitalist ideology of the West and its exploitative ways but like the Chichi dodo, they have to live in the ‘filth’ for food. Ngugi left Kenya for political reasons and threats to his life. He vowed never to come back for as long as Moi was still the president and true to his word, he never did. It was only after Moi left power that Ngugi made his return. The return was not a return in the sense of the word, it was a visit because after a short stint in the country, he ‘returned’ to America.


Ngugi is now a Distinguished Professor of English and Comparative Literature, and Director of the International Centre for Writing and Translation at the University of California Irvine. This has made Ngugi drift further away from home to the extent that he can not make authoritative deductions on the socio-political situations back at home.


In a recent article written by Ngugi and published on the internet by thepatrioticvanguard.com entitled Ngugi Wa Thiong’o Reflects on Mwai Kibaki and the 2007 Kenyan General Election, one can vividly see the way Ngugi’s grasp on the political scenario back at home is loosing its grip. He admits to determining the situation back at home using the services he receives at Kenyan diplomatic offices abroad.


He says “As a writer I try to get glimpses into the big picture through small things. I have seen a very improved courtesy in the Kenya embassies to which I have gone for services, especially in Los Angeles, Johannesburg and London, a far cry from the previous era.”


This clearly shows that Ngugi has lost touch with the have nots he spent all his literary energy on in trying to liberate the poor from yokes of oppression. The poor watchman who lives in Mathare Slums and the workers at the Export Processing Zone factories do not even know what kind of services are offered at Kenyan embassies.


In the wake of the post election violence recently experienced in Kenya, one wonders if the permanent and continued presence of scholars like Ngugi, Mazrui or Professor Makau Mutua in the country would have led to a different consciousness among the voters.


One wonders what moral authority scholars like Leopold Sedar Senghor had to accuse the West of plunder in Africa when they secretly went to bed with the same West. In his negritude poetic movement, Senghor talked in great praise of the marvelous nature of Africa and the beauty of being African. This conviction on the beauty of the African land, people and ways did not however stop him from spending the last years of his life with his wife in Normandy, France, where he passed away on 20 December 2001. As a token of thanks, the then French president Jacques Chirac and Lionel Jospin the Prime Minister did not attend his funeral held on 29 December 2001 in Dakar.


It is time our scholars gave up their highly paying jobs and trooped back home to help us in moving our continent forward. If they do believe in the theories they advance and the arguments they make, they should place their country and continent before their materialistic gains. They should stop building the West because of the monetary gain they get from it. It is time they stopped talking the talk and started walking the walk.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Moi's 'Pheuks!'

Dear Lena,

How is the afterlife my dear wife? I am writing you this letter because I am happy beyond words. We made it again! Sad thing is Giddy lost his seat, the rest of my people were mercilessly floored and The Rift valley rejected me. Despite all this, the man they call man Agwambo was stopped yet again.

I chose to send you this letter because I could not think of anyone else to share my predicament with. The whole world knows how aloof I was while I was still the president of Kenya. I also happened to make more enemies than friends during my tenure courtesy of my use and dump policies so I am left with no one else to talk to. Just hear me out like a friend would hear out a friend. I know you envy the way Kibaki allows his wife to talk too much and wield a lot of power and you wish I would have done the same with you but that is in the past. Let’s bury the hatchet and just hear me out.

During my tenure, some not-so-good things happened. You remember the slightly over Kshs. 100 billion that found its way into my bank accounts abroad? Some people calling themselves Kroll have sniffed this out. Had Uhuru Kenyatta, my protégé and puppet, made it to Statehouse, none of this would be worrying me.When Kibaki became president, I was so worried that he would scathingly launch an assault into my past over-indulgences. However, this man had been my vice president for ten years and there was no way he would humiliate me to that extent. He had himself dipped his hand into the candy jar while he was my vice president and all the years he had been in government since our independence. I used to bait them with this or that here or there and they were all part of my choreography. Kibaki had also sat and watched as his buddies emptied public coffers during his presidency. He therefore had to scratch my back the way he expected his to be scratched when his own retirement came.

But there is this man Agwambo. In the first place, had it not been for him, Uhuru would have been president. The whole world knows by now how he single handedly brought down KANU, a party that had for forty years ruled Kenya with impunity. Since it was he who helped Kibaki in becoming president, (Kibaki had made two miserable attempts in the past) he tried to put pressure on Kibaki to have me investigated. Kibaki on his part distanced himself from Agwambo and surrounded himself with people who were concerned with ‘eating’ as Lina Jebii Kilimo, an outgoing Member of Parliament, put it. 

Kibaki having adopted this strategy, I retired into enjoying my retirement. One area in which Kibaki managed to beat me was in his supposed development record. He threw billions at his eating buddies and a paltry amount went to building roads and stuff. During my days, we ate everything! As a result of Kibaki's 'shrewed' policy, banks like Equity Bank took five years to grow to heights that government owned banks like the Kenya Commercial Bank could not in over thirty years. Instead of government tenders being awarded to government owned banks, they were awarded to Equity, to his eating buddies. It should therefore not come as a surprise that this bank’s owners and other individuals who had similarly gained from Kibaki’s government could afford to pay a million Kenyan Shillings for a plate of food to help fund the president’s re-election bid.

A president who had promised to end economic disparities had friends who could pay 1million per plate when Kenyans are sleeping hungry!Since I was sure Kibaki would protect me, I decide to campaign for him during his second bid but being the tribalist I am, I only campaigned for him in Rift Valley province because I knew as a tribal leader, only my tribe would hear me. 

But this man Agwambo is a schemer my dear Lena. Even his father could not manouvre in this manner. I had perfectly contained his father through detentions and manipulations but this man Agwambo is a different species of a politician all together. Talking of detentions, I detained one Kenneth Matiba for just two years and he came out with his wits upside down. This man Agwambo on the other hand spent eight good years in detention and came out better than he has ever been.

I was greatly perturbed when it became apparent that he was the one who was going to take over the government. Like Kibaki, I had decided to fool myself that he would not make it but after the people voted, it became clear as day that Kenyans wanted him. It was then that the reality of what was to come dawned on me my dear. Time to pay for my sins had come. We had to act fast. Luckily, Kibaki has these greedy ‘eaters’ I told you about around him and they wouldn’t let the chance to fatten slip away. And like myself, they knew only too well that the Agwambo Presidency would nail them as well, they and we would have to cough up what we stole from Kenyans. 

They therefore decided to blatantly manufacture votes for Kibaki (and people thought I was the worst) and now This man Agwambo has been stifled again.And so, my dear Lena, though our sons have been humiliated and though Rift Valley is no longer under our hold, This man Agwambo is not yet there, and should never get there.

Thanks for lending me your ear my dear wife. 


Yours,

Man Torro.
'Live until you die!'

About Me

My photo
Though I might look like your common guy next door, there's more to me than meets the I. If you get the chance to meet the I, you will find out more about me.