tHiNkEr’S rOoM

It must be very different being a nabob in the Mwai Kibaki administration. I say this for a number of reasons. Just imagine:

1. Cabinet meetings replete with pistol like shots of elderly knees, elbows and knuckles cracking like fireworks
2. An atmosphere thick with the smell of Kiwi shoe polish, the ultimate victor over grey hair
3. Working in an environment of such a proliferation of false teeth, glass eyes, false nails and even false alarms that it is necessary to have a comprehensive checklist
4. Working with ministers who have the vague suspicion that the Internet is used to catch Interfish

Few things are as amusing as three fellows launching an initiative for the youth, when said three fellows have a collective experience of a quarter a millennium between them. Fellows whose ID numbers are as follows: 0000001, 0000002 and 0000003.

I’d especially hate to be a nabob in that particular administration now, an administration that goes from strength to strength when it comes to never missing opportunities to miss opportunities. Bill Clinton was undoubtedly a popular US president who left a legacy in many ways, good and bad. Even the most junior politician with the intelligence quotient of a bowl of soup learnt in the wake of Linda Tripp and Monica “DNA” Lewinsky affair that folks have a nasty habit of leaving tape recorders on during discussion of the most interesting topics.

And with the proliferation of high powered, sophisticated technology to disseminate content such as Winamp, and bandwidth friendly audio formats such as mp3s, such content can make its way to the desktops, laptops, ipods and blank CDs at your favourite CD pirating cybercafe.

It is such a scenario that confronts the hapless NARC regime. The rapt attention that Kenyans hold 24 and Prison Break is nothing to that they have for The Githongo Tapes. 

If you want to experience the felling that is going through fellows whose job titles includes the word “Minister”, just imagine yourself riding a violent horse bareback while wearing yellow y-fronts filled with coarse sand while your mother, the woman you’re trying to convince you’re Mr Right and 30 of your high school classmates who considered you the laughing stock of the century watch on howling in amusement. 

Just last week, Smilin’ Amos Wako, he of the 60 teeth, rather pompously declared that Kiraitu Murungi and David Mwiraria had been cleared of attempting to cover up the Anglo Leasing scandal. 

The news must have come as a welcome relief to Kiraitu Murungi. I can picture him now putting down the anthology of his truly atrocious poetry (poetry that when read out loud makes you want to hold the top of  your head to keep it from exploding) upon receiving the welcome news. I can also picture his shoulders shaking, his teeth coming out to play as he laughs even harder than he did shortly after he told a stunned nation that donor behavior was like raping a woman who was already willing.

David Mwiraria must have been no less relieved at the news. Climbing onto the pavement from the road with the aid of climbing gear, and minding that he does not get stepped on by passing reporters, it is easy to picture him, colour clashing cap on his head, giving thanks. 

Smilin’ Wako is still smiling his smile (and small children are being kept busy to count all his teeth) when “Sheriff” John Githongo drops the bomb, about the size of the one Walker Bush is trying to find in Eye-Raq.

Mwiraria: Mmm..

Githongo: My initial thinking…[Interrupted by Mwiraria]

Mwiraria: No! no! Bwana Githongo..

Githongo: Mmm..

Mwiraria: Hii kitu…(This thing)

Githongo: Mmm..

Mwiraria: If we are not careful..

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: Will come down with our Government…..

Githongo: Mmm..

Mwiraria: What I am suggesting..

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: Why don’t you…

Githongo: Mmm..

Mwiraria: and Anti-Corruption, and I am saying this in your presence Mweshimiwa (Honorable, referring to Kiraitu)…

Githongo: Mmm..

Mwiraria: drop this matter…

Githongo: Mmm..

Mwiraria: I will get..

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: to the root of the matter, I will find out who it is..

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: in my own way?

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: Ya… I have not appraised it?but I will find out exactly…ya…that information.

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: We start harassing Ojiambo…ya….

Githongo: Mmm…

Mwiraria: you never know…

Githongo: What he might say..

Mwiraria: What he might say..and who else…

Githongo: he will pick on…

Mwiraria: he will pick on…and who he will go down with Anglo Leasing…..

….Kiraitu: Mmm…He was released?

Githongo: He was released, yes.

Mwiraria: Was he held?!

Githongo: He was held….he was arrested…he was officially arrested yesterday…at around four o’clock until he was released at nine in the evening.

Kiraitu: Did he record a statement?

Githongo: Emm…I do not think so…

Mwiraria: Did he give you any information?….Why don’t we do this Mweshimiwa (Honourable, [to Kiraitu]…

Kiraitu: Mmm?

Mwiraria: …as I said…I wrote a memo ? which is interesting… You know when I came…and we talked here…. nilipigia Magari (I called Magari, the Treasury PS) …there is a day I came from Kampala and I found Magari had just gone to the PAC (Parliamentary Accounts Committee) and he had said he knew Anglo Leasing so when I went back, I told you why I talked to H.E (His Excellency), H.E wanted information before I went back…asked for information…I got the contract, I went through it, and the memo to H.E. ….And H.E. agreed that you should try and get back the money. So I found out from my officers who know where the other money had come from… I didn’t even ask them to give me the names. So I said, go and see them?tell them…. tunataka hio ingine (we want that other stuff)…the money is now in the Central Bank. It has been returned now.

Kenyans listened with rapt attention as a trusted Minister of the Kibaki administration attempted to convince the Anti-Corruption czar to drop his investigations.

The actual interview needs to be listened on tape to appreciate its full hilarity. Mwiraria sounds like a embarrassed small boy who is an unwilling audience of an embarrassed talk about the birdies and the bees from an even more unwilling father.

Kenyans looking for NARC to guide this country out of the morass of corruption have about the same chances of success as Israelites would have had if they wanted Pharaoh to lead them out of Egypt.

Hollow promises to ruthlessly prosecute corruption continue to echo 5 years after Kibaki bellowed his determination to pursue the corrupt to the end. We were promised there were no sacred cows but at present cabinet meetings are routinely punctuated with a series of mooing and lowing.

In the cabinet right now sit two cabinet ministers tainted by corruption, as well as our smug Vice President, under whose docket the passports scandal squarely fell.

A commission was created to pursue the corrupt, and Justice Aaron Ringera, who repeatedly claims that he will be indefatigable in the pursuit of the corrupt, has put his skills to indefatigably pursue the wind. For this we pay the man 2.4 million shillings. Question: can Ringera investigate his way out of a paper bag?

We await the next episode of the series with bated breath

PIC OF THE DAY

The Logo we know. The name …

Ciara - Promise

Some of the stuff I’m working on or am involved in:

Mzalendo.com

On March 2006 Ory And I launched our joint effort, Mzalendo.com, an initiative to keep tabs on our parliament and parliamentarians. You can read more about Mzalendo.com here

AfricaDotNet

Africa’s largest developer resource

Bill lowers the empty glass to the table, and Bob nods with approval at the fact that this time he does not break it.

“Good stuff this, Bob”, Bob says fondly to his best friend.

Bob inclines his head gravely and drinks the health of his best friend, lowering his empty glass to the table with an air of finality.

The barman’s relief is palpable even from across the room, as is that of the bar maid who’s aching back reminds her of the beer, assorted spirits and broken glass she has mopped and swept up that night.

Bob and Bill slowly rise to their feet.

“Bill,” Bob says slowly.

“Bob?”

“Is it just me or is the floor moving?”

Bill, after thoughtful consideration, gravely nods his head.

“You’re right there Bob. The floor is moving. Waiter!”

A waiter approaches warily.

“Why is your floor moving? I demand to see your manager!”

A few deliberations later Bob and Bill finally agree to depart. Grimly promising to report the establishment to the highest authorities in the land, they navigate their way to the nearest exits by alternately leaning heavily against the wall, other patrons, furniture and assorted potted plants.

Finally they are outside.

“Bob?”

“Bill?”

“Any particular reason why the lights are out?”

There is a lengthy but thoughtful silence in the dark.

“Probably because it’s dark,” Bill finally answers.

Bob nods silently.

“Indeed, indeed. Someone turned off the sun. It happens. Ah well. Let’s be on our way.”

In unison Bob and Bill lurch towards each other and collide heavily, finding themselves in an involuntary embrace.

“The car,” Bob’s voice is muffled. “Is parked that way.” Bob’s arm extends over Bill’s shoulder and points into the dark.

“On the contrary,” Bill’s equally muffled voice says, “The car is parked that way.” His arm extends over Bob’s shoulder and points in the diametrically opposite direction.

“All right,” Bob says pacifically. “You go your way and I’ll go mine.”

They stagger back to the entrance after five minutes.

“You were right,” they speak as one man. And each man lurches in the direction the other man has just come from.

And five minutes later they meet again.

“Bob, is the car blue?”

“Why yes, Bill, that it is.”

“Then I think we are standing right in front of it.”

“And so we are, so we are.” Bob fishes out the key and advances unsteadily upon the door.

Following are a series of scratches as Bob starts off on his interpretation of the Sistine Chapel art on the car door.

“Problem?” Bill asks after a minute.

“Yes. Damn keyhole keeps moving.”

“Here, give us a go.”

Bill takes over the keys and to make sure he does a thorough job grabs the key with both hands. After half a second the key slides into the lock accompanied by a grunt of triumph.

“Bill, I believe that is the fuel tank.”

Bill’s eyebrow rises as Bob steps forward, retrieves the key and attacks the front door again.

Finally both men are seated.

“Who’s driving?” Bob wants to know.

“You are,” Bill says conversationally.

“Don’t mean to be rude, my good man, but why me?”

“Well,” Bill chooses his words carefully. “For one thing, you are the one with the keys. And secondly, and most importantly, you are sitting behind the steering wheel.”

Bob regards the steering with the surprise Moses must have regarded the burning G.W.

“Well, if you insist. Where are the car keys?”

“In your hand, man, in your hand.”

“Ah.”

After trying to start the ash tray and the choke, he finally manages to turn the key in the ignition. He then looks up with a start.

“What’s that noise?” Bill demands.

Bob listens, brow furrowing with the effort.

“The engine, I think.”

“Ah.”

Bob engages gears smoothly, slips the clutch and gently but firmly presses on the accelerator.

“Bob,” Bill asks after a minute.

“Bill?”

“Your technique with the vehicle is beyond comparison. The accelerator lays back at your slightest pressure. The gear box is tickled at your touch. You consult your rear view and side mirrors frequently. The car is poetry in motion to your control. In short — your driving is beyond reproach, save for one thing.”

Bob inclines his head modestly.

“And what’s that?”

“I believe we would make much better progress if the handbrake were down.”

Bob looks down at the handbrake with surprise.

“Ah!”

After a few minutes silence Bob asks.

“Just to get it right, are you driving, or am I? I can’t seem to get it right.”

“You are, I believe. But then again whenever I pull the dashboard to the right we seem to turn right as well. Hmm. Good question.”

Both men ponder briefly.

“I think it’s me,” Bob says finally. “After all I’ve just changed gears.”

“And so have I.”

They ponder some more, Bill absently shifting gears with a crash.

“Well, if I’m not wrong this car is a two wheel drive so technically we’re both driving.” Bill says finally.

Bob nods his agreement.

“Any food?” Bill asks.

“Got some groundnuts deep in the back seat. And there’s some meat I bought last Friday that I don’t remember taking out of the car. And there should be some biscuits on the rear carpet.”

“I don’t mind saying I feel like need a bite.” And without further ado Bill attempts to reach into the back. Fails and starts to manoeuver himself, wriggling and twisting to fit into the space between the two front seats.

“Hey,” Bob unwraps a moccassined foot from around his ear.

“Sorry,” says a muffled voice from the back seat.

Bill returns after a few minutes.

“Satisfied?”

“Yes thanks. The meat and vegetables were excellent.”

“Vegetables?”

“Yes. The meat was covered with spinach.”

“That wasn’t spinach. Did I mention that stray cats like coming into the car?”

“And a fine car it is!” Bob says smoothly bringing it to a halt.

“Why are we stopping?” Bill asks.

“Traffic.”

“But there is nothing in the next lane!” Bill says pointing.

“You’re right,” Bob says with the air of a man who has no problem acknowledging he is wrong. He energetically spins the wheel and firmly nudges the accelerator.

“The lane is totally empty. I think I’ll drive directly between those two motorcycles whose headlights I see approaching. Do you think they’d mind?”

“Not at all, friend, not at all!”

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PIC OF THE DAY

No guessing what that pipe is made of!

Person Of The Year

He may have passed away but my man of 2006 is David Munyakei. Not because of anything he actively did in 2006 per se but because of the example he showed us, that no matter how inglorious, no matter how thankless, no matter at what cost we should always do the right thing. Because that is the only way we will change our country.

In this era of greedy, self seeking politicians of loose integrity and even looser morals, David Munyakei is a shining example to all of us of what it means to be a good patriot and a good man.

Rest In Peace.

Ass Of The Year

Without a doubt this goes, yet again, without contest to the Kenyan Politician. A more thoroughly deceitful, conniving, lying individual cannot be imagined. When not agitating strongly for increments of their own salaries they are orating from raised platforms calling us idiots, giving us pompous advice about how we should work hard and continuing to sow the seeds of nepotism and tribalism that further divide this country.

Ladies and gentlemen, may you all take a long walk off a short pier.

Special dedication to MP Paddy Ahenda who told stunned Kenyans that women actually mean yes when they say no

Foot In Mouth

John “The Snake Charmer” Michuki has the dubious distinction of winning this one, romping home in first, second and third position

1. Organizing and sanctioning the ludicrous raid on the Standard Newspapers and KTN offices
2. Having the temerity to tell Kenyans (who employ him and pay his handsome salary) that if they play with snakes they had better prepare to be bitten
3. Suggesting that the Kamba’s only occupation is dancing

Surprise of The Year

Maina Kamanda has been a pleasant surprise. Being elevated to a full Minister has done that gentleman a world of good. He no longer expresses himself in articulate Homo Habilis. He now walks upright most of the time and no longer peppers his grunts with speech. Quick on the uptake, he now firmly resists the call of bear skins and inclines towards Savile Row suits

Windbag Of The Year

Winning handsomely by a mile is Musikari Gabriel Kombo. Cocks in the Kombo household do not crow. Nor do crickets chirp. Nor do mosquitoes whine. This is because when the master is home, his voice filtering through the curtained windows puts man and beast alike to immediate and very deep slumber.

Hot Airbag Of The Year

Head, shoulders knees and toes above the competition is Aaron “Indefatigable” Ringera. This man produces enough hot air to generate his own electricity. Several years later only traffic policemen have been charged in court.

Chocolate Teapot Cliche Of The Year

This distinction goes to the statement whose meaning is conspicuous by its absence. The finalists there year are

“Government of National Unity“, from Messers Mwai Kibaki and co

“Spreading Negativity“, from the travesty of Acolyte being kicked off the aggregator

Clowns Of The Year

For the second year running the Kenya Football Federation take this one again by a mile. The people involved appear to have a collective IQ of 1 (if you round off to the nearest whole number). Our soccer team has willing and talented lads but spectacularly incompetent officials that would have difficulty finding their own backsides with a torch and binoculars.

WTF Of The Year

Kiraitu Murungi, who was caught on candid camera tape trying to convince anti-corruption czar John Githongo to “ngo srow” so they could “ngo srow” on his matter is back in the cabinet.

And so is George Saitoti who seems to have Goldenberg tattooed on his forehead. So much for no sacred cows!

Information That Adds Least Value To Our Lives

The composition of the First Family. Kenyans quite frankly do not give a flying rat’s ass who the members of the first family are. Really! Will this be the year we get a press release divulging whether the first underwear are y-fronts or boxer briefs?

Woman Not To Cross Of The Year

Rachel Dawson

Groan Of The Year

Carolers with obsessive compulsive disorder performed this past Christmas

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells,jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells,jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells,jingle bells, jingle bells,jingle bells, jingle bells,jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells

Quip The Most People Didn’t Get

Try again! Which is Martha Karua’s favourite Series?

AOB

With regards to that meetup — those of us who were there can attest to this. My man Aegeus’ jeans were sagged so low that at every careless turn the guy made, people at the table would turn into werewolves! Boss, be careful!

Awards 2005