The Luo Act vs. Ujaluo

Last week I thought about an old acquaintance, T. Ndede. This man is a thoroughbred. His name was mentioned in ICC proceedings, so he is a serious Luo man. Ndede had an ideal he subscribed to a while back, I am not sure if he still holds onto it. He used to believe there is a way Luos do their thing and he called it- tim Luo, the Luo Act. This is what someone later called The Lifestyle. The other day it popped up from a very unlikely place.

The other day I was in a matatu going to Kitengela. If you are not Kenyan, matatu is that necessary evil you have to board to take you around Nairobi if you are not able to own a second hand Toyota from Japan. Kitengela is a dusty suburb of Nairobi Metropolis. In Kitengela everything is dusty, but that is for another day.

I boarded the matatu somewhere on Mombasa Road and got a front seat next to the driver. I looked for the newspaper on the dashboard but I did not see any. I looked at the man next to me and I did not think much about him. Turning round, my eyes scanned the people behind me. That has become my instincts of late, reading people like book covers.

There was a lady right behind me to the right near the window. Like many Nairobi women, I couldn’t guess her age but her eyes were on a newspaper she was reading. I checked the headline, and then turned again to face in front. Yes I am a Luo and Luos don’t do such things as read other peoples’ newspapers. My phone was at hand to keep me company, from Facebook to Twitter and an occasional WhatsApp text just to poke people.

We passed Imara Daima and approached City Cabannas. This is that place where every Kamba in Kenya has a relative. The driver slowed down. Hell broke loose. I heard shouts behind me- wewe wacha kuibia huyu mama. The lady who I could not guess her age was shocked and lost for words. May be it is because this stranger had just called her- mama (mother). The allegations this man next to the door was making against the man sitting between him and the mama must have shocked her. In normal situations, she would have reacted to being called a mother but things were different. I turned and looked the suspect in the eye, he looked innocent.

The matatu stopped, the lady was still lost for words as she checked her handbag that was wide open. I think she couldn’t even know if anything had been stolen. The man next to me had turned and grabbed the suspect’s collar. There was commotion and more passengers alighted and the matau was now almost empty.

A young man came to our window and started hurling insults at the man next to me. I roll the window up halfway. “Wewe wacha ujaluo, sisi tumeshinda hata serikali.” He said as two others came to back him up. They insulted us and walked away like the government could not do a thing.

I looked at the man next to me, and immediately cought his Bantu accent. So he is not a Luo, we Luos have a way of speaking Kiswahili, his Kiswahili was too good for a Luo man of his stature- but that was still an assumption. The young man who has just walked away has admonished him to desist from Luoism.

I started talking to these two people about the incident. I was now more interested than ever on their tribes. I opted to decode their accents. The lady was definitely a Kikuyu; the man next to me came out a Kamba. I could not get the tribe of the man who busted the thief, as he spoke less after the drama settled so definitely he was not a Luo. According to the ‘highway gang’ these two men, who were not Luos had Luoism.  T. Ndede  came to mind and his tim Luo. So what is UJALUO?

Everything is Big and vulgar in Luo Land

Oh my, don’t joke. If Ndede’s quip is taken literally then it lacks juice. Wait until you were with a fine lady and you met Ndede, woe unto you if she is not conversant with dholuo. “Go and give her the Luo Act” Is all you would hear from him as you parted. It hits you that everything in Luo is big, and can turn vulgar any time. In dholuo, every discussion can end up in sex, including discussing fire and cat fish- kamongo.

Kisumu County should be the Texas of Kenya- Where Everything is Big. Someone told me that unlike other towns, Kisumu has no, “Welcome To Kisumu” billboard as you enter. May be if the County Government has put up some but I doubt, they are living large. If you are travelling from Kericho, Vihiga or Busia, and you want to know you have entered Kisumu, just look at the people walking by the road side.

The moment you see ladies endowed with enough volumes behind them. My cheeky Christian brother (name withheld) will say the Lord has blessed their going out. Then you are in Kisumu County, no need for a billboard. It is said that a Luo man must have bulging biceps. Lack of big arms for men is akin to a Luo woman with a flat behind, it leads to low self esteem.

Say it as it is

Luos speak their mind without fear. We are known to be whistle blowers, so Miguna Miguna was just being a typical Luo peeling his former boss Raila Odinga’s mask. This is the ujaluo these thieves meant when they told the man who sat next to me to shut up. Luos are a democratic people. The government is called piny owacho in dholuo which translates to- the people have spoken. It is in our nature to air our opinions.

Luos are known to love academics. This open mind culture of see it as it is and say it as it is promotes learning and the desire for knowledge.

True Artisans

Your typical best tailor, cobbler, carpenter, and mason may be a Luo but we are more than that. In whatever a Luo does, he will be the fundi. Be it Barrack Obama with words, Oginga Odinga with politics or Philip Ochieng’ with his lexical obsession with the Queens English, we are fundis. Perfection is at the core of Luoism. If that is Ujaluo, I am proudly in.

Luos have taste. Dresscode, furniture or name it. We can dress smart at an affordable cost. When you give a Luo and ‘others’ Ksh. 1,000 each and send them to buy second hand clothes in Gikomba Market, you will notice the difference. It is not about the price, an eye for that good stuff is part of the Luo Act.

But do we say

If you thought Luos hard-line stick to the rules is all about being stubborn, you are wrong. It is our pride that makes us to shun anything that may soil the lifestyle. Pride makes us work hard at what we do; it is the same pride that gives us the guts to tell you off on your face. BUT DO WE SAY.

It is only in Luo land where you can be put off with your wealth. In other areas wealth may be a source of influence but not in Luo Nyanza.

Regardless of what the busted thief meant by- Ujaluo, there is more to the Luo Lifestyle than Raila Odinga, benga music and Gor Mahia.

Thanks Heavens, I STAMMER...

I love writing, not because I enjoy it but because I cannot speak as fluently as I would love to, so I write. Novelist Ngugi wa Thiong'o summarized it for me as quoted above. The irony is I am heckler and I love talking even to strangers. My most fulfilling moments are when I interact with people. Discussing and arguing about anything just for the fun of it. 

My good cousin once said, if only I had not been a stammerer, I would have 'destroyed' the world. Oh yes, and to some extent, he is right. Please don’t visualize me as a goat tethered next to a maize plantation with the rope just one metre to the green leaves, it’s better and more fun than that.

Politician Rachel Shebesh is a handful in the Kenyan social but spare her some slack. I will not defend her; unfortunately I have to start with her but she deserves it. This is October, the month when great people are honoured and the lady is great even if it is only for her looks. October 5^th is World Teachers’ Day, World Military Day is on 14^th of October and the Breast Cancer Awareness Day is also in October. Mashujaa Day will extend to Monday 21^st for Kenyans to honour heroes they care little about.

There are heroes among us who share October 20^th celebration with Kenya. These are people who nature has bestowed on a condition that modern medicine is still grappling to find its genesis and cure since the days of Moses. That Levite who was picked as a baby from the bull rashes- the reeds that grows by the river. I dont think the trauma of being dumped made him a stammerer, or I am giving you ideas? Let us leave it at that.  I enjoy reading his arguments with Pharaoh in the book of Exodus, like they say, I feel him.

International Stammering Awareness Day (ISAD) is a day observed worldwide to create awareness of a condition that makes people think faster than they can speak. That is the simplest definition I can give it. In other words, we are always done with a statement before we say it.

Rachel Shebesh is the only member of parliament to ever ask about our plight. She asked the then Minister for Health, Prof. Peter Anyang’ Nyong’o what his ministry was doing to manage stammering especially in children. I can’t tell where She got her facts which found Prof. Nyong’o clueless (to use Miguna’s catch word), but for that my respect for her will always be a grain higher than the public opinion.

One day some years ago, a short nine year old boy stood in front of the whole school to recite a poem, and as they say, the rest is history. He stumped his foot, slapped his thigh, he even squinted but in the end, no word came out. That is a horrific experience for a nine year old. That boy is me, all grown up now but I will do it again if that teacher asks for volunteers to recite poems again. ISAD is a day my colleagues and I look forward to every year to celebrate such moments.

In secondary school after playing truant on the teacher, he asked to stand in front of the class. The usual stuff that happens in school, to be candid I was drawing the caricature of renowned humourist the late Wahome Mutahi (whispers) which I made sure appeared on all my exercise books. I went and stood, as soon as the teacher turned his back on me, the whole class burst into laughter. I am not a comedian, but my struggles to speak have made some people to chuckle but I always forgive them immediately. I was asked to go to the staff room where I could not utter a single word in my defence. The poor teacher felt sorry for me and let me go. I smiled all the way back to class.

        Albert Einstein and his sister- he also had a stutter- we are bright people!

I will not go into the mechanics of stammering because I don’t know what happens physiologically. All I can say is, it is like an iceberg. What you end up seeing is a tip; beneath it is a huge mass of ice that has baffled scientists for many years. I stutter; that’s a new word? Blame the Americans and their obsession with being unique. The British call it stammering, the American chose stuttering, ....you know what am saying?

In the four primary classifications of personalities, stammerers are primarily introverts by default and melancholic to be specific. What do you do if you suffer from social anxiety disorder? This is the condition where one is conscious that inability to communicate properly is a big deal. It leads to shyness and fear of situations that call for an articulate tongue. Everybody is cautious about meeting new people, initiating small talk, and talking to people in authority. These things are hell to a stammerer.

Now imagine all that, and then God creates you an extrovert. You get where I fall, I am the stammerer who chats matatu (public transport) drivers if I find myself in the front seat. I wonder what they think of me, “wacha kujisumbua na story huwezi bonga.”   That is why I call myself- STUTTISTICIAN and my condition is STUTTISTICS.

You see another aspect of stammerers is creativity. Not by design but for survival. Imagine you have a lot to say but you just can’t say it as well as you would like to. In the end one ends up being a ‘punch-line’ guy. Punch lines are like those advert like taglines. Look at Nokia for instance- ‘connecting people’ is the punch-line. We tend to have a way of simplifying stuff just to cut the long story short but pass the message across.

 I set up this blog and called it Otieno Kenyatta, I think I was tired and bored that day or just trying to fill my minutes with something constructive. After some time I changed the name to “Blocks & Stutts” just from the blues. Blocks is my main mode of stammering, as in “K-K-K-K-K- Kenyatta” the other form is prolongation; “Keeeeeeeenyatta.” Stutts is my rendition of stuttering. A few months later it became “STUTTISTICS” my new name to stuttering. And I became @stuttistician. Are we not a creative lot?

I have grown as a writer, if you read my earlier blogs, you find a lot of “punch lines.” Not any more, I have learnt to avoid cutting the long story short by explaining even the stuff I would avoid in speech. It has been an enjoyable journey speaking to myself for you to read.

Then I joined Nairobi Stammering Support Group a few years ago, I went home and laughed. I am not crazy, I did not laugh out of malice, I had never seen more than two stammerers in a room, so I laughed. The other reason is I felt nice, that there is a place I can go and talk without fear of victimization or being misunderstood. I almost (ROTFL) - Rolled On The Floor laughing- like they say on Twitter.

There are more men than ladies in the group as more men than women stammer. This is one indicator that women are genetically stronger than men. On average they speak more words then men, so from an early age they tend to beat this monster. In my search for information on stammering, I got one I always share with people. Stammerers have a high affinity for substance abuse. These drugs especially alcohol and cigarettes tend to ‘cheat’ you that you are fluent by giving you undue confidence. On the contrary, it worsens the condition.

So October twentieth we are celebrating heroes like me. These people go out and spend hours looking for something just because they are afraid of being judged when they ask. We tend to spend more time lost than ask for directions. We still manage to overcome all these hic-ups (sic) and go about our businesses like any other person.

This October, take time to be patient with anyone who is not as eloquent as he would like to be. We make one percent of every society so you will see one of us near you. Take time to listen, and encourage us to speak. Not all of us are as chatty as I am, so go out of your way and ask us how we are doing. May be we will find out why society use words we cant easily pronounce to describe us; KIGUGUMIZI (Kiswahili) or STUTTERING and many more.

As I wind up, if I woke up tomorrow speaking fluently, I will check in for therapy to cope. It has become part of my identity. Apart from Rachel Shebesh, I will appreciate KISS FM host Carol Mutoko – oh my, we attract drama queens for her support. I think we give drama queens a chance to show their good side. Emma Shah is one sweet soul, no drama, this lady has dedicated her life to work with stammerers, and I envy her patience. Thank you ladies, and the men, it is time you stood out.

Men, Women and Something in Between

I love stories, and my hood is one place that gives me good stories every day. I live in Laini Saba, if Laini  Saba cannot register in your mental map smoothly, then  Kibera East should hack it. That makes sense, now you can go ahead and size me into sizes. I love my hood; it is the only hood in Nairobi other than Gigiri with a United Nations office, UN Habitat has its offices here. Before you judge me, a pinch of respect will do some magic.

One of my pass times is touching base with men, politics, football, women and gik ma kamago (that’s the new fad after donge? It means- etc) I will not go into details but the hot story in the media then was of a young man (here called a boy)  who was having carnal passions with a willing lady the age of his mother. The discussion became heated with opinions and sooner men were speaking from the heart.

A man who looked over fifty years old was upset as he shared how he cannot imagine chasing after a woman again to marry at his age. “If someone and especially a boy jokes around with my wife now, I will sort him out.” he said curtly. He looks the emotional type, I conclude to myself and make a point to honour my presence among these older men with silence.

Men don’t gossip, you see what we do is we pick an object, that object might be a person, a car or a movie. Then we discuss it to logical conclusions. This is what we were doing, and the discussions touched the heartstrings of these men. As the youngest, I stood out like a sore thumb in many ways.

Everybody agreed that young men are going for older women, or let’s say older women are going for young men. The chemical equation is in a state of equilibrium. The movement is either way depending on which side finds itself with excess molecules to send into the reaction.

So we discuss how men go about this women thing. To my dismay, these men find it normal, cool and a measure of grandeur to have escapades beyond the matrimonial bed. They tend to happy to give, but to receive the same measure is painful. A case of people applying Christ’s command selfishly; to give is better than to receive and what about ‘do unto others….’

This is a field where most men, especially the masters of it, play as a grand opera- more action and less talk. Men, who brag about their exploits with women, tend to be average at this game. So, I listened keenly as the discussion went on in a way that brought out the good and the bad.

We went back to our object of discussion above; we were discussing him and not gossiping. Everybody agreed that he had his days in the sun with ladies but it is wrong for a woman to play this game to the gallery. Oooh, so these men agree that women are also good at this game but they must do it with dignity. Double standards here, but we are men, as long as my lady does not do it in my face, it can pass.

So, because the men had learned to chase, catch and devour with the finesse of a cheetah and the arrogance of a lioness, women have come out of the box as well. This is where Kibera East is different to many Nairobi suburbs. The men say they know too much information about each other. The environment is not conducive to privacy so it is easy for people to cheat on each other.

But why do men cheat? This man who looked more of a construction site foreman went waxing lyrical. Women are available and they are always ready to give so he can’t sit back and watch. One man who looked shy and out of place, spoke in a soft tone to claim his territory- that is a man thing. According to him, it is curiosity. These women just make you want to explore and find out why they are so mysterious.

So it is all about curiosity, and this is killing the men like the proverbial cat. Talking of cats, men go out on a cat walk as well but here it’s to hunt for women. Ever walked into your house tired and hungry and spotted your cat, not known to you that the canine was belching away the fumes of your left over meal you had saved for dinner. He always looks innocent; I can hurt no fly look. That is how most men look after a detour from their marriage bed.

The domestic cat has a lethal trait. Hell hath no fury like a cornered cat. That is the male equivalent of a woman scorned. So the discussion deviates into many excuses and explanations. It goes back to the point of discussion. The young boy should not have taken his fling with the older woman too far. The woman should not have let the moment of passion carry on for too long.

So to these men from Kibera East, these things happen so the main thing is to manage the saga. There is an old man who clears his throat then backs off again. I look at him, as the only bachelor in this team, they respect me this much to allow me into their chit chat. May be it’s the grey hair I have been acquiring of late, the kind of hair I believe you get if you ever drank “super dip” for juice.

The youngest of the lot who looks shy interjects to send the old man back to his shell. He takes us back to our object of discussion. That man was known to chase ladies all over, his wife is paying in kind. By the way, if I can meet his wife I won’t mind. He adds that, nowadays these women over fifty years of age know how to maintain themselves. Look at Bishop Wanjiru ( Margy) or Esther Passaris. Many others who you wouldn't know are in their late forties look like they barely into their thirties. Mimi ‘nitaongeza chumvi’ and proceed (add salt and eat), he concludes with a tongue in cheek punch line.

The old man seems to have gotten energized. He jumps in when the shy man slows down to take a breath. He speaks quietly, measuring every word as if he wants to hit everyone without hurting them. I adjust myself in my wooden bench space rather subconsciously in anticipation. I rest my elbows on my knees and put my clenched fists below my jaws. He looks interesting.

According to him, old men still think they can run the marathon when they cannot do four hundred metres. This is why many of them are dying in the act after a dose of Viagra to boost their libido. At this point another big shot is brought into the talk and another one who happened to have survived a similar Viagra induced ordeal. Oh God, we-men discuss stuff, but it is not about the people, it is a discussion on Viagra.

The old man manages to wade through the voices of interjectors. The adrenaline has taken over now. He says men should wake up and realize we can’t manage more than one woman and satisfy her fully. Times have changed, the stresses, high expectations drive us up social walls- or do I say social media walls. These pressures send us to chase women to release tension yet we cannot satisfy them.

This man is making sense. “Take it from me, if you chase other women, someone will look after your wife, whether you like it or not.” He says in a hush tone as the atmosphere goes silent. He goes ahead to say that our fathers could manage many wives because there was plenty of good healthy food. Viagra was ingested unknowingly in food in small doses over time. The men never travelled far, they would watch over their wives social and emotional health.

 The expectation was low so men could hack many ladies. Today, it is expensive to have an affair and he went ahead to enumerate as if he is the brains behind Jimmy Gathus ‘piga hesabu’ campaign against extra marital affairs. He added that with little technology in the past, personal contact was a must hence emotional well being.

The old man spoke as the group listened. I could not agree more. If the man thinks he has it all in this game. The woman is empowered; she will go out looking for a substitute. That is wisdom galore, the writer in me has seen a story to pen down. I relax my shoulders, sit up and ask the old man a few questions. In the end I realize, time has changed but the man is stuck in his ways hence most men losing it big time on the family front, worse off losing lives.

Copyright #StuttisticsMedia

The Leading Story

                                                                                                                        Photo courtesy of KWELI

Today I declare total loyalty to President Uhuru Kenyatta. Let me be candid and say I did not believe in his presidential bid. I know now you think I am CORDED, oh wait- am more than that. I love stories, listening to them, telling them and writing about them. It is the story of Uhuru presidency that did not resonate with me.

I went to school somewhere in Kenya where I was the only Luo in my high school class and this came with its joys and baggage. I had to translate those dirty words people get to learn first in a language- donge? Then receive all the slack meant for us jang’os, but yes I enjoyed my time.

Around this time a man called Okatch Biggy emerged from somewhere I don’t want to lie I know. I heard he used to be a boxer trying to destroy the fingers that were meant to make him famous by strumming a guitar. Because he was BIG, I became Okatch Biggy to some of my classmates despite being nothing close to big. I knew nothing about him then nor ever heard of his music.

Fast forward and when the boy in me turned to a man, I happened to be around Donna Hotel (note the word ‘around’) one evening and heard some good beats of Okatch Biggy belting out Helena Wang’e Dongo (big eyed Hellen). Wait before you think it’s another version of Musaimo’s Kana Funny. My close friends know that this song has inspired me in many ways. His lyrics later inspired me to learn fluent deep dholuo so as not to float at sea- to get the gist of a master poet and story teller.

Since he died, I have never known any other Luo benga musician who could measure to Okatch, so I don’t fancy this neo-luo benga anymore. Sorry if the vulgar laced song kanungo makes your bones to start vibrating like an android phone. Okatch Biggy had a way of singing vulgar, someone once described his vulgar as liberating, oh my how can that be? Several times he crossed the line but not as far as Kanungo.  For your information, many people drove from Nairobi to Donna Hotel in Kisumu every Friday afternoon to dance to Okatch Dola Ja Ujimbe- Dudi. Luo is a lifestyle and a responsibility, but do we say.

Later I learnt that successful leaders have a personal story and when this story is packaged to resonate with the people, his influence grows hence succeeding in his tenure as a leader. The stories Okatch Biggy told revellers in his songs, brought Luos and also none Luos from far and wide. Stories are powerful.

Barrack Obama made it to white house because his personal and his father’s story of triumph over adversity resonated with the hopelessness of economic depression of the last years of George Bush Jr. tenure. Franklin D. Roosevelt in his inaugural speech in the early 1930s economic depression gave Americans the narrative- there is nothing to fear but fear itself- and America pulled through the tough times.

In East Africa, Paul Kagame’s personal story as a refugee, rebel fighter then a military intelligence officer in Uganda made him succeed as a rebel movement leader and later a successful president of Rwanda. You may have your reservations about this man, but yes, he is the president to watch in Africa.

Back to Kenya, the Uhuruto ticket had two verses, the ICC narrative and anti-Raila chorus. These two stories did not cut it for me as transformational in any way and we can see it now. Then again, they won the elections. If you have not accepted it, just move on. You are allowed to move on without accepting- do I hear some shuffling sandals - for now Uhuru Kenyatta is the president and William Ruto is his deputy.

The first 100 days of Uhuru Kenyatta’s presidency has not brought out the best in him or even in Kenyans. It is prudent that a narrative comes out of the house on the hill. If his ICC narrative was good enough to get him to state house, it cannot sustain his presidency. Things don’t look good and as a Kenyan, I am 100% behind my eloquent president, he must give us a convincing story.

Kenyans have began to feel the economic pinch so much so that they are not fulfilling their role in nature. No wonder a daily newspaper columnist wrote that despite Uhuru making maternity services free of charge; Raila is telling Kenyans not to give birth. There is more to making babies, it needs energy which is food and the baby will also need food. So circumstances have conspired to deny Uhuru an easy win in 100 days.

On the flip side, Raila Odinga and Kalonzo Musyoka have been going around telling stories. If these two gentlemen still hope to remain relevant in our political system they must also change their stories. Raila Odinga should stop this- elections were stolen- narrative and give us another story. He should stop making Uhuru Kenyatta his agenda and show Kenyans what we are missing even in small doses.

Jakom, this story of elections is stale. I can understand your predicament but if you want us to even dream of electing you again, tell us a new story. Tell us how your grandchildren are coming up. The Kenya you would like them to grow up in, and do things to that end, may be, just may be- my county mate, you never know.

Uhuru can tell us about Margy, how he tuned her akaingia box. How the birth of Ngina and Jomo changed his perception about life. There are times when political propaganda gets boring and such is the time. We need stories, it will change the people but more so our leaders. We will know where they are coming from and where they are likely to take us.

Kenyans need to dance to inspiring narratives, not depressing rants. Kenyans need a reassuring story in these tough times.

The devil is not in the details but in the story.

                                                                                                     Okatch Biggy

Kethi loses her virginity again...

Ever since the phrase “accept and move on” became our national “motto”- I tend to dig in on stuff. It is not that I never move on- but I do so at my terms. Today I am on Kethi Kilonzo’s case and this time round it’s not about her prowess that gave men intellectual crush. The mental beauty that turns men on then scares them at the same time. It is about Kethi’s virginity.

There is something in a name and the Kilonzo name Kethi bears is weighty with privileges and responsibilities. This is the weight that gave her a strong foundation, bringing her advantages over mere common men like some of us.  The same weight can also drag her down to the gutters of life and the unfolding events have shown that.

Men have a high affinity to lay a lady of her stature- many times for bragging rights. The masterminds of this saga must be gloating over their actions, not for their deeds but their prey. That is what masculinity bestowed on men especially where losing virginity is concerned.

Kethi lived in the shadows of his father and only came out after the March 4^th General Elections to subtly announce to his dad and the country that her time had come. Little did we know that the old man was on his last stretch and the gods were lifting his daughter to the level of the Kilonzo name. This is very good; Kethi came out a pure girl, shielded from the vagaries of this world. Like a poster child, harmless and beautiful she was liked by people from both sides of the political divide. Kenya had welcomed her into the lounge, and sooner to the bedroom.

As the law stipulates after her dad went to dance with his forefathers, the Makueni Senatorial seat was declared vacant. It was back to politics and everyone was of the opinion that Kethi steps forward to replace his father as the first elected woman in the Senate. Politics surrounded her candidature had no sooner had she presented her nomination papers than word came out that she is not a registered voter.

I don’t follow Kenyan news; the closest I come to news is on social media, so forgive me if I don’t have the details of how Kenya seduced Kethi until- akaingia box. The next time I woke up from self imposed Prime Time news blackout, Kethi was facing a tribunal to ascertain if she was registered voter.

The moment the details of her registration were out, the IEBC tribunal findings were subordinate to the court of public opinion. I don’t take Kenyans’ public opinion seriously especially where politics is concerned. We have voted people on the basis of ‘caring for one young man at the expense of twenty others’ so Kethi’s alleged misdemeanor will not affect he political life.

The saga I watched in that bedroom as Kethi lost her political virginity made me look at the whole matter from a different angle. This girl had lived a private life known to her family, close friends and may be clients. Here she was, the monsters of Kenyan politics had dragged her to the bedroom, called in the cameras and went on to defile her as the public watched.

Oh yes, I know Kethi lost her virginity years ago, I don’t have the details but I know she has a very promising son. Some things are proved conversely even if you chose to conceal the real action. Here she is, like any woman who loses her virginity, I know there are times of shame but then again the big picture is she is now a ‘woman’.

In this evolving episode, IEBC is coming out as an institution that cannot be trusted. As long as they did not report loss of registration slip, they cannot pin Kethi, to me the burden of proof is with IEBC and not Kethi. After we accepted and moved on while cohesion was expended at the expense of justice, this time we need IEBC to come out clearly and clear its name.

Two things are bound to happen, either Kethi will coil and go back to her private life where her legal profession would be her fulcrum or the monsters are in for a rude shock. She may just step into politics full swing and teach these people a lesson. The IEBC saga is just a plus as it has jolted her muscles into action mode.

 Like a lady who has lost her virginity, she knows that things will never be the same again even if she opts for secondary virginity out of public life. Keep watching…….

I accepted but to move on, we must ask hard questions

This may be flogging a dead horse, but let me do it, maybe I will ‘move on’ as some people insisted a while back. To be candid, I hated that phrase- accept and move on. Just to whip a question- has anyone ever checked where the said people moved to, if at all they moved on? I accepted, but I did not move on because I dint, and still I don’t know where to move on to.

I am not going to claim that the elections were rigged. I believe the emotions have calmed down now so we can be sober and objective as we look into an election I believe left Kenya more divided than 2008, peace aside.  As a product of public education system, my studies were subsidized by the government. To this end, I owe my society a service because the taxes the government collected were spent on making me the person I am today.

I am good at asking questions, or rather questioning if there is a difference between the two. The 2013 general elections may have been peaceful but to minds like mine, they raised many questions for which I will endevour to seek answers. The bane of an open mind bestowed to me by the nature for which I must honour by doing justice to matters that need to be looked into again.

The Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC) did a good job leading to this election and they deserve a pat on the back. To this date though, they have not been able to announce the final results of an election held in March. If at all we have to grow our democracy beyond the mandatory five year election cycle, everybody must ask questions including questioning IEBC.

Let us ask ourselves; in 2002 we had a voter turnout of 57.18% which went up to 69.09% in 2007 when the stakes were so high. In 2013, there was a voter turnout of 85.91%, a world record by itself. Looking at Nairobi County voter turnout for 2013, the presidential elections gave us 72.9% of the registered voters.

Looking at the increase in voter turnout between 2002 and 2007, I strongly believe the Nairobi voter turnout to be representative of the accurate voter turnout all over the country. There is hardly any social limiting factor or hindrance to voting in Nairobi. The level of civil awareness is higher and we had hawk eyed agents for all the parties involved in Nairobi. Nevertheless social amenities like transport and security are much better in the city than anywhere else in the country.

Let us take a look at North Eastern province which has always had an average of 45% voter turnout. With no major stake in the 2013 general election, this region recorded a voter turnout of about 75% in rough average estimates. They surpassed the growth in voter turnout in the rest of the country something that must be attributed a social factor. Either, they were provided with water and pasture for their livestock or polling stations were taken to where they were grazing.

I will then shift my eyes to the Supreme Court ruling. This I will address none other than Dr. Willy Mutunga. I blogged about Mutunga a while back my two cents advice to the good lawyer so I am one of his admirers but the ruling on CORD’s petition left me with many unanswered questions. I did not have the facts so I tried to ‘move on’ but when he came out in the social media to ask for respect, I lost the respect I had retained for him.

 As a young man in the prime of my youth I believed everything is possible; age has a way of dealing with many things so I moved on. My friends and I gave the then Vice Chancellor of University of Nairobi Professor Gichaga sleepless nights. On such friend told the good professor something that has stayed in my memory to date. He asked the professor not to look at our questioning of his leadership as a nuisance but a good report that the university is producing brains that can think. If we agreed with him on everything then he should rest assured that the institution has failed in its mandate.

When six Kenyans went for the hearing on confirmation of their charges for crimes against humanity at the ICC something happened that our good Supreme Court bench should learn from. Judge Hans-Peter Kaul dissented with the rest on the case of William Ruto, Henry Kosgey and Joshua Arap Sang. There is nothing wrong with it, because his arguments were very objective and he did not lose his job.

The six heads on that bench are part of the cream of Kenya’s legal brains with experience in academia, jurisprudence and litigation in as far as the Kenyan law field is concerned. If at all these six people agreed unanimously without coercion whatsoever that the 2013 general elections were free and fair then something is wrong somewhere.

Lastly, I am asking myself what “Free and Fair” means in terms of definition and general application. If what transpired in this year’s election can lead to a free and fair election then ‘some six people’ have set the bar so low that the IEBC will never have a problem in future. The net effect is that it will be difficult for the lower courts to nullify the election of people elected to other posts in the same elections. May be this will lead to an audit of the process from the bottom upwards.

We all make mistakes and no one is perfect so when you put a group of people to undertake a task, the net strength is a sum of their strengths and so is their imperfections. The good thing is even if we fail for whatever reasons, lets fall forward, we will have made a forward move however little.

I write to remain sane in this insane world. Even if I don’t move on, asking questions is paramount for making tomorrow better than today. 

 I remain positive that one day Kenya will rise above the myopic obsession of a small clique of people.

Why Nairobi Governor Race is Waititu's to Lose

I was not surprised when ‘Rio’ Ferdinand Clifford Waititu won the TNA nominations for Nairobi County Governor at the expense of the sleek Jimnah Mbaru. I also expected Bishop, Dr. Margaret Wanjiru to beat Dr. Evans Odhiambo Kidero; the good pharmacist should thank the gods he is on the ballot for ODM just because Bishop Wanjiru was barred for lack of a University degree. To know why these not so learned and rather ‘uncultured’ politicians get good fortunes in the game, tag on me.

Everyone says that a Governor or let me say Gubernatorial seat should be the preserve of technocratic managers rather than the politician type. I couldn’t disagree more, in as much as management skills are important, political skills are more important. This is what is used to discredit Waititu alias ‘Baba Yao’ from the race.

To be Governor, one must get votes and to get these votes one must endear himself to the voters. Waititu has served as a councilor and is the immediate former MP for Embakasi. He is in touch with the ground and his networks traverse the city, having been born in Kibera, lived in Dagoreti to the west and represented Embakasi constituency which is to the East of the city. He comes across as a thorough bred Nairobian.

He built these networks over time without the pressures and constraints of an upcoming election. He even did it ‘with no strings attached’ attitude to the people yet he knew what he was going for. Unlike Kidero and Mbaru who have the money and expertise, yet failed to take time to build their networks in good time. Phillip Kisia being a technocrat spent about four years at City Hall as Town Clerk but failed to use it to learn political skill and build networks.

Waititu speaks the language of the people of Nairobi no wonder they call him ‘Baba Yao’- the top dog. Jimnah Mbaru on the other hand has the audacity to campaign around Mathare slums speaking in English. It doesn't matter how good his ideas are, his choice of language meant they were dead on arrival.

Meanwhile Kidero has tried to do a lot of work including having lunch with the people at Kariokor Market, unlike Waititu this comes out as an attempt to fit in for the sake of votes. Recently on Citizen TV, Kidero kept talking about programmes as Waititu kept it simple, always referring to ‘my people’ in every statement. To the people, what matters is what is in it for them, and it is prudent for the candidates to break down their ideas to basics.

Management

It is unfortunate that a person of Waititu’s character is close to ascending to the second most powerful seat in Kenya after the presidency. Nairobi accounts a huge chunk of economic transactions in Kenya and the region. A recent statement from a Safaricom executive revealed that over two thirds of Mpesa transactions emanate from Nairobi. I can see why the tag manager is being floated every time Governor is mentioned.

The constitution does not vest executive authority of a county in the office of Governor but the County Executive Committee. Waititu may not be a technocrat but if he can cobble a good team and manage them well, he can still succeed as Governor. Then there is the County Assembly composed officials elected to represent the residents’ interests. A governor must be able to manage the personal expectations of these representatives and of the people they represent.

To this I believe, a politician with managerial sub-skills can make a good Governor as compared to a manager without political sub-skills. If he can manage people well, his executive committee and the county representatives then he wins, and that is politics.

Corporate management is all about the bottom line- profits must be made. In the office of governor, it is not about profits but services for which I believe a Non-profit organization manager can make a good Governor. The office has a diplomatic role, resource mobilization and project implementation. These are roles a Governor will seek to hire the right people to help him accomplish.

Politics of Management

When ANC sidestepped Cyril Ramaphosa to give Thabo Mbeki the number two slot to Nelson Mandela, many people agreed with the party’s choice. A few years later Mbeki succeeded Madiba and then things started going well for the country but went worse for him. Mbeki is a technocratic leader who set South Africa on an economic growth path, until Jacob Zuma came. The man from Kwa Zulu branded Mbeki a ‘Boer’and set out to sing the anti apartheid song ‘umshini wami’ (bring me my machine gun) and Mbeki was no more politically.

In 2008 ODM had a majority of councillors in Nairobi City Hall, and Majiwa was elected mayor.  No sooner had he felt the weight of mayoral chains than chairs started flying in council meetings. Then came George Aladwa, a man with modest education but a good mobilizer. Yes, Nairobi resident may have lacked good services from Nairobi City Council but the noise faded. Looking at these two mayors, Majiwa a graduate of Maseno University and Aladwa, a graduate of Makongeni University, who comes out as a better leader?

To be a governor, one must win majority of votes cast by Nairobi residents. To win these votes you must go out and seduce the people of Nairobi to vote for you. Academic qualifications and a good Curriculum Vitae are good, but they do not attract votes. Someone must sacrifice his pride and ambitions to build a political base.

A good example is American President Barrack Obama, when he knew he wanted to be president, despite having a law degree from Harvard  he opted for the trenches of Chicago Community service. He spent years building a political base and reaped from it. I fail to wonder how Jimnah Mbaru can wake up in December 2012 and expect to win an election in March 2013. Money can buy many things but money can never buy trust, and people vote for leaders they can trust.

To conclude- It is Evans Kidero who can give Waititu a run for his money. This will be more due to ethnic arithmetic than his skills as a person. I expect Waititu to pull a surprise, because Mbaru will eat into Waititu’s ethnic vote and Kidero’s ‘middle class’ vote. My bet was initially on Peter Kenneth who I believe has the ability to have his head in the ivory tower and feet in the trenches, now I will watch and see how ‘Baba Yao’ takes on ‘Dawa Yao.’

It will be unfortunate if Waititu and Mike ‘sonko’ Mbuvi get elected in Nairobi. One, they thrive in the informal and broken down systems that has been run from the corruption ridden City Hall. They will do little to change or improve these conditions because it is what will keep them relevant.

The so called ‘middle class’ in Kenyan should desist from knee jerk reaction in politics. It takes time and resources to build a base, just because you have made it in another field does not mean you can transfer that to politics. Learn the game, language and unwritten rules before you plunge in or else, people like Waititu and Sonko will show you why they are ‘Baba Yao.’

Karl Marx (Owiro C.) is a Product of Our Social Systems

For the past one week I have engaged in a public relation exercise on the person of Karl Marx aka Christopher Owiro. Some people on social media did not have kind words for the man who was a hero to many, others chose to keep their views to themselves. To me, Marx was a human being, a person with friends, family, dreams, desires and above all a deep lying hope that this society will change for the better. That is the person I choose to honour; but why is this man spoken with disdain and admiration in one breath?

Karl Marx is a product of our broken and warped social system. When we shun Karl Marx in life or in death and embrace the systems that keep creating other ‘Karl Marxs’ is like hating the calf and loving the cow.

He beat all odds to make it to The University of Nairobi. He went to a day secondary school where he would walk for about 20 kilometres to and from school. When he received his admission letter, the Joint Admission Board (JAB) must have called him for a course he did not want to do. You can argue that yes, that happens to everyone, but why should it be so either?

In the year 2000, the Executive Committee of SONU was sent on a compulsory academic leave, or let me say suspension. After one thousand days, it hit me that many had tried to change courses on admission but failed to do so. The bulk of this lot was the KCSE class of 1996 when JAB decided to admit students with C+. It is romoured that the then JAB chairman, Prof. Eshiwani’s (George) child had scored a C+ and he had to join campus. This could have increased competition thus making it hard to change courses.

When Marx was in first year, word went out that there was a special class of people coming in to take courses of their choice and the core qualification is they can pay for it. Many people could have chosen to keep quiet and complete their studies and join the next level of life. But with examples across the world and even across the border in Uganda, this could have been handled in a better way. To the timid, speaking against such is madness, and so I say, the system created Karl Marx.

In a society where people, especially young people are not allowed to speak, let alone disagree with authority, Karl Marx was a marked man from the word go. You may have been shocked by post election violence (PEV) in 2008 but that is what comes of a society where holding divergent views is criminal. The opportunity many people will wait for is an excuse to ‘solve’ the problem in the easiest way possible. Again, the person who speaks is a villain, he who burns and murders is a hero. The system created Karl Marx.

The world over (and some African countries in particular) student activists are absorbed in socio-political systems that suit their ideological leanings. In Kenya, student activists who chose to hold views viewed as anti-establishment should be prepared for a life of squalor. Look at this, Wafula Buke was William Ruto’s student leader, now Ruto can afford to give Buke a salary for a non-existent job. Does it mean Ruto is more sharp or aggressive than Buke? NO, Ruto got into the KANU system and rose up the ranks, the same system that made sure Buke never rose to be a role model. If Buke is not a role model, where did Karl Marx come from? The system created Karl Marx.

The Universities are obsessed with one thousand day suspensions, but have they ever done an audit to see if it builds talent or kills creativity? The security agencies spend huge amounts of money to trail students and student activists and much more to influence elections in student unions. Can this money be used to nurture student leaders and prepare them for constructive social engagements? Karl Marx could have been of great contribution to the well being of this country, again, the system made sure he did not make it past activism then we curse Karl Marx and leave the system that created him.

There is an unwritten rule that a student convicted of any crime forfeits his place at the University of Nairobi. I was happy to find the student who had served time in jail for handling guns in the  Halls of Residence working in a firm in industrial area. I was even more elated when he told me he would soon resume his studies- there is hope. The system is supposed to build, not to destroy.

The black sheep of University life for students and parents is dead, but to the socially conscious, he leaves many questions than answers. One of them is why is it that approximately two-thirds of student activists are from Western Kenya. Why is it that a majority of these activists end up living low quality lives compared to their counterparts from Central and Eastern parts of Kenya? These are questions the University social scientists should be grappling to answer so as to nip the problem in the bud and save many brilliant brains from ruin.

Mentorship is a foreign word to our social leaders. Their main style is to use bright brains for their own selfish ends. There should be a system, formal and private that everybody will seek to nurture someone else to be like them. It is only by lighting the path for the younger generation will we find new ideas and visions to take Kenya to the next level. To quote US first lady Michelle Obama, you don’t lock the door behind you when it comes to opportunities.

Across Africa, student leaders have risen to positions of influence. Kenya must rise and learn to love the soldier even if he fights a war we loath, because at the end of the day, the soldier is a son, a brother, sister and even a father to a responsible Kenyan. Karl Marx death may be a loss to his family, but it is a bigger loss to Kenya as a nation.

When our MPs vote to award themselves hefty send off packages, do not be shocked, another Karl Marx is around the corner, how will you receive him?

Fare thee well Karl Marx aka Owiro Christopher

Yes, aka Christopher because everybody knew Karl Marx, Chris as I always called him- I know he wondered why- was a Science student at Chiromo Campus who was always in a hurry and full of energy. I knew Marx in my first semester and as soon as I became my Class Representative, Marx asked to buy me a drink, a very shrewd man. From there, I had a friendship with him beyond the usual deceit ridden student activism.

Years later Columnist Philip Ochieng’ would write that every market has a mad man and Karl Marx was the University of Nairobi mad man. By this time things had started to change, and for sure my good friend needed a good public relation strategist. To me, he started going down the moment he started getting involved with women who did not mean well and the ladies took advantage. The scandals increased to a point where he claimed on TV camera how he had given a lady KSH. 0.1 Million. That is Marx for you, never lacking words to explain anything.

I love mad men; my respect goes to Robert Alai, Boniface Mwangi, Kajairo and Cartoonist Gado, these are all to me ‘mad’ men forget Hon. Sonko. It is my best columnist Charles Onyango-Obbo who put it clearly one day, that apart from men of honour and integrity, it is mad men like Che Guevara and Fela Kuti who are brave enough to seek brave new worlds for their societies. To me, Karl Marx the ‘mad’ man had no apologies to be mad.

Many people thought this man spent over a decade at the University of Nairobi for an undergraduate course. I don’t blame them, unlike most student activists who spend their first two years building a base, Marx burst into the University and Kenya’s political scene in his first year. The University did not know that they had admitted a man who would redefine the dormant keg that was student activism. He quickly started pushing for the re-introduction of the banned student Union SONU which he managed in 1998 and renamed it SONU98.

The students could trust the radical Marx to push the administration to re-introduce SONU, but never trusted him with leading it. He ended up reviving the Science Students Union and chaired it for one year. Even without a formal position in the student government, he was a force you couldn’t just wish away.

Karl Marx did many things to uplift the welfare of students; he championed the conversion of Stella Awinja Guest House into a hostel. He always argued for students with fees arrears who were kept out of exam rooms to sit for the exams. In short, a student’s problem was Karl Marx’s problem and this is where I have come to appreciate the mantra- pick your battles. He never saw a fight he did not want to jump into.

Outside of that was an intelligent orator with exceptional mobilization skills. Karl Mark to me was a mathematician, unlike me who did mathematics to pass exams, he could explain everything mathematically. He once took the Vice Chancellor, Professor Gichaga through a calculus proof of why the Parallel Programme is flawed. The next time, he used the same formula to predict that the KANU/NDP merger will not work out and for sure it dint. It is great brains that are always prone to self destruction and Marx was no exception.

Another of Marx habits was his weekend morning briefings outside Hall 10. He would wake up at about 10 am and take on students questions which he would answer with a mixture of humour and eerie attitude. He would then watch the 1 o’clock news on TV and disappear from Campus. He made Hall 10 a hub of Nairobi social gossips.

I will cherish the times I spent with Marx, minus the propaganda and side shows, I met a master strategist who could push an agenda to the end. I might have disagreed with him on ‘how to’ several times, but I still remember Chris asking me to keep off student activism, which I tried but the system had absorbed it.

Behind the radical Marx, was a generous man whose heart went out to the suffering of the common man. A lover of nature and a good hockey player; he was a product of Kisumu Day High School when the school ruled national hockey championship.

Rest in Peace Jakorando B; like Martin Luther King Jr and Che Guevara, I know you have died at your time. Great men hardly see their fortieth birthday. Rest in Peace.