Few things are as sacrosanct as the institution of morning radio. One cannot set down to work without a morning shot of radio. People are going out of their way to even buy mobile phones that have radio facilities.

The fare is wide

Classic FM

Classic’s morning show is the usual two host format. Currently this is Maina Kageni and Mwalimu Kingangi.

Pros

• Classic has excellent music.
• Mwalimu Joseph King’ang’i. This guy just cracks me up. Really. The man is just hilarious. What makes him especially funny is that he thinks on his feet (or should  I say seat).
• Every morning they normally discuss some domestic situation that hapless listeners find themselves in. The part in all of us that secretly delights in our neighbour’s slippage on a banana seems to thrive off this.

Cons

• Most of the discussion topics are aimed squarely at the mature listener. God, making full use of his excellent sense of humour, generally has you sitting between two nuns when a caller has the self sacrifice to offer himself to attend to a caller whose problem is her significant other is not rising to the occasion in the noble sport of bedminton sufficiently enough
• The audience is getting increasingly incredulous at the problems presented

KISS 100 FM

One of the oldest breakfast shows that pioneered the two host, one serious one comic format. Currently these are Caroline Mutoko and Nyambane

Pros

• When the presenters shut up for a minute, the music is generally not that bad.

Cons

• Impossibly large array of impossibly inane competitions
• Even more impressive array of amazingly irritating jingles and sound effects
• Continuously insisting they have a repertoire of fresh hits and then playing (to Death) James Blunt’s You’re Beautiful
• Nyambane’s act grew old circa 2000, but KISS is blissfully unaware of this
• Caroline Mutoko’s carefully cultivated nasal accented speech, peppered liberally with “darlings” and “sweeties” make long waits in traffic seem that much longer.
• Their news team’s primary source of news is the BBC’s RSS news feed and copies of the day’s Nation and Standard.
• Carol Radull always sounds like she’s about to burst into laughter. Ergo she should not be reading news about plane crashes, Mungiki beheadings, etc
• Yesterday (22 May) There was a brief discussion that stunned all and sundry. Carol and Nyambane called a listener who had sent an SMS confessing that her boyfriend told her that her vagina was bitter. Nyambane wanted to know what the boyfriend was doing over yonder. Carol was full of helpful advice. Myself I was full of the breath of air I was keeping in to keep from bursting into laughter because as fate would have it I was sitting next to a nun.

CAPITAL FM

The original (bring bring) breakfast show, riding the coat tails of the good old days of Phil Matthews and Alex Belfield.

Pros

• When the presenters shut up for a minute, the music is generally not that bad.
• Seanice has a nice voice.

Cons

• Impossibly large array of impossibly inane competitions
• Even more impressive array of amazingly irritating jingles and sound effects
• Fareed is a shadow of the man he used to be on Drive.

EASY FM

Forever chasing the shadow of their best time, when Munene, Teddy and Ngatia run the show. Those three gents were loonier than Roocy Baks. The infamous saga of Members of Parliament being spotted on Koinange Street soliciting from … er … vendors peddling their wares in the night inspired these gents to dedicate to parliament as a whole Ludacris’ Area Codes. 10 – nil. Currently hosted by one Ciku (Not this one I hope!!!)

Pros

• Memorable name

Cons

• Presumably the people who are busted on the “busted” segment do not own radios. And if they do, they do not listen to Easy FM. Or if they do, always do it after the morning show.
• The host is enamored of Paula Dean and plays this bloody song at every opportunity.
• The presenter is always talking. Always. All the time.

IN GENERAL

• Traffic updates form all stations are of negligible value. Telling us that there is traffic on Thika road is not telling us anything
• Contrary to what most stations think (especially KISS), none have any power to summon the traffic police
• The proliferation of brain dead games and competitions is a bit much
• Less talk and more music please!
• Bitter vaginas are best handled at night. I’m sure that 5,000 or so small boys in cars and school buses asked horrified adults what exactly a vagina is, and what is wrong with a bitter one

 Walanguzi – Crazy

Despite the fact that I’ve already done a list on 116 things about M, I still find myself roped by supafly warembo into doing a list of 7 of things you don’t know. Very well then my dears!

1. I cannot do that “One minute’s silence thing”. The more serious the occasion, the more the unreasonable urge to burst into laughter strengthens. For example, on the sad day our Vice President passed away I was at a golf club with a large number of government bigwigs in attendance. I think it was Amos Kimunya who just before the open bar commenced asked us all to stand and observe a minute’s silence for our departed leader. And like Pavlov’s dog the intense urge to burst into laughter arose powerfully. I fought. And fought. My face contorted. Teas rolled down my cheeks. My shoulders shook. I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep the laughter in. But I could not win. Mercifully I was standing near an exit and I fled precipitously outside where I finally broke down.
2. People who don’t know me tend to underestimate me. This is something I go out of my way to actively encourage.
3. Some people are left handed, some are ambidextrous, others are right handed. Me? I’m the far right. In fact I am strongly right handed. The only thing my left hand does is help with the typing and to wash my right hand.
4. I once considered being a priest. Very seriously.
5. I take great pride in my inbuilt, 99.99% accurate bullshit detector. Within minutes of listening/reading I know at once whether to keep listening or classify as bullshit. This has enabled me to survive personally and professionally.
6. I have gotten multitasking down to a T. I generally read several books at once (Right now I’m reading 4: PG Wodehouse Heart Of A Goof, Plato’s Republic, Stephen King’s The Shining and for the zillionth time, Herge’s Tintin & The Picaros. My PC in chez M has two monitors, and I can work like a demon on two open applications simultaneously. I am looking for a way to add a third monitor.
7. I’m very good at what I do. Really. So good I’ve been given special recognition. And as I write this I am the only Kenyan with such.
8. Bonus: By the end of this year I will have learnt to read and write Latin.

Can Guessaurus, KM, Afromusing, Keguro, Farmgal, Joe (yes, Joe), MadKenyanWoman and Chrenyan step up to the plate?

PIC OF THE DAY

 Snow – Informer

[UPDATE]

I must confess that news of the missing KQ Flight on Saturday concerned me gravely scared the hell out of me. Because of the fact that I know a number of flight engineers and stewards, one of whom had emailed me to inform me that she was coming back on a flight from West Africa.

Mercifully, she was not on that particular flight, but still, I have that feeling of being kicked in the stomach when I think of what might have been.

That our prayers are with the family and friends of the victims need not be said, for they are, and will continue to be. This is a very trying time, but I have no doubt that God will comfort the affected and wipe away their tears.

The confirmation that my friend was OK came much later, but while I was in the vacuum of information, I kept a very close eye indeed on all the TV channels and a close ear on the radio channels. Google was my friend online as I kept my pulse to the developments.

The way the media handled the issue, to be frank, at times made me extremely uncomfortable.

• Most local TV stations had created some sort of update bulletin, that began with the most depressing music and graphics, even before the plane was known for a fact to have crashed. Not that they should have made it jolly or anything, but is that the sort of thing you want to see and listen to when hoping against hope for the safety of your loved ones?
• During one of the press briefings at the Panari Hotel, KQ CEO Titus Naikuni opened the floor to questions for the press. And how did one reporter make use of this opportunity? He wanted a list of the journalists that had flown to Douala.
• As the day progressed, the International stations, CNN and BBC  pushed the story progressively back in their coverage, up to the point it was no longer being mentioned in the headlines. A crashed plane is a BIG DEAL. A crashed plane with 114 people on board is a BIG DEAL Certainly bigger than tornadoes.
• One of the papers prematurely published a list of the passengers and crew.
• ONE OF THE NAMES WAS WRONG! This in particular really bothers me. Just imagine, knowing for a fact that your father/mother/wife/husband/son is safe and sound and then reading their name in the paper! The shock!
• Most of the TV stations aired footage of distraught and grieving family and friends. Precisely what is the purpose of this? I see no reason whatsoever to record, much less air, such footage. What are they trying to prove?
• One local radio station invited the brother of one of the flight pursers on a morning show and had the temerity to ask him “What did you feel when you heard the news of the missing flight?“. I mean, come on! What do you expect him to answer?
• The papers for a couple of day plastered their front pages with pictures of grieving family and friends. I’ve heard arguments that this personalizes the story, but for God’s sake we don’t need the story to be personalized! These are our friends, our colleagues, our family! We so appreciate the enormity of the tragedy and the sense of loss!

Some of the International coverage makes me more than uncomfortable. Annoyed is the word that comes to mind. Apparently the CNN thinks that we are somehow lesser human beings. Look at their story:

Look at the highlighted bit:

They were energetic enough to say five Brits, one Swiss and one Swede, but could not be bothered to break down the African casulaties, settling for “The remainder were  Africans”. Why then did they not say some Europeans as well? Are we second class human beings? I guess I should not be surprised to expect a myopic news organization is unable to live up to its “International” tag.

Granted, there is no formula as to how to handle such tragic events, but I’m sure if we followed the simple parameters of treating them with the seriousness they deserve and utmost respect to the affected family and friends, we should be OK.

But that’s just me.

To the family, friends, colleagues of the victims, the KQ fraternity and Kenyans as a whole: take heart my friends. God will wipe our tears away and soothe our grieving souls

AOB

Oh, and I will be going to Coast in a couple of weeks on business.

I SHALL be flying Kenya Airways, the Pride Of Africa

Show your support. FLY KQ

I have once before talked briefly about the cornerstone of Kenyan industry, the bedrock on which the giants on whose backs we climb upon to see far stand on — morning tea.

The NARC Government fondly imagines itself to be the engine behind the Kenyan industry. Those beefy gentlemen and ladies will doubtlessly be upset to learn that they are taking credit from where it is due — a certain leaf actively cultivated and harvested in the Kenyan highlands.

People for some reason just cannot seem to break out the sweat of honest toil without a mug of some liquid of indeterminate colour steaming at their elbow. Sugar, milk and even water are optional, but tea leaves must, I repeat MUST be present. Unconfirmed rumours circulating the office have attributed to a senior manager an incident where said manager was seen to be chewing meditatively with an empty tea bag torn open on said manager’s desk. The unconvincing explanation, coupled with the expression of sheer guilt cast the matter in stone.

Many of my colleagues for instance, communicate in gruff, abrupt grunts early in the morning (“morning” officially begins after tea is served). They shuffle forward absently, look at their neighbours balefully and are more tightly strung than the belt that keeps the presidential trousers in position. The particularly gifted in the linguistics department confine themselves to two or three monosyllabic grunts as a response to anything, ranging from “good morning” to “so, this weather we’re having.”

Even particularly humorous anecdotes fail to evoke laughter. An occupant of a distant office, upon being told of a particularly humorous tale that reduced the teller to tears, was heard to respond with an abrupt “LOL”.

The 15 minutes to 9 appear to be the most trying. Computer keyboards can be heard rattling audibly, leaving you to ponder what it is that is being typed: you know for a fact that the men from Kenya Power disconnected the power half an hour ago and the generator key is in your right front trouser pocket. One member of the team, infamous for his reluctance to use words with more than two syllables, is reduced to assorted growls and facial expressions. The facial expressions in particular have an informal pool in the office as to whether or not they can stand in the way of the siring of his progeny.

By a combination of good fortune and Machiavellian stratagems, I happen to inhabit a corner office that directly adjoins the kitchen. In fact there is a window that opens directly into the kitchen, through which I can hail the good lady that dispenses this valuable elixir. This window has and will continue to be used to its maximum potential — establishing Stephen Hawkins’ truth as to the shortest distance between two points.

It also allows me to observe strategies verging on the Napoleonic.

You fill find a chap saunter into the kitchen, drop a biro and spend the next half an hour looking for it and 5 seconds picking it up. It may help to note that on a linear time scale time T1, time when tea is served and time T2, time after which biro is picked up differ by the said 5 seconds.

You will also find another chap whose skills in matters culinary put him in the rare percentile of individuals who when tasked to boil water, manage to burn it. When asked to butter bread and sugar the tea end up teaing the butter and breading the sugar. These are the fellows who very chivalrously volunteer to help the good lady dispense the tea. Burns, scalds and scars never seam to dampen their enthusiasm.

I’m reminded of a chap who reasoned he could juggle the tasks of scaling the steps and chewing the gum, and arrived in the kitchen equipped with biro behind the ear and laptop computer. My pet theory that man is on earth for the entertainment of those in heaven enjoying eternity gained that much more credence that day. IBM Thinkpads may be XP compatible, 2000 compatible and 2003 compatible, but they most certainly are NOT H2O compatible. I also learned that hard drives are powerless against soft margarine.

Management too need their fix. Nothing galvanizes the work force more than the well known engine notes of the vehicle that delivers the MD to his people. One particularly slow employee flung himself onto a desk and begun typing industriously before gravity and the grim, look from the man that paid his salary (who had not had his morning tea) forced him to realize that

1. He may have found a chair but the chair had no desk
2. If there was no desk there was unlikely to be a computer
3. Without a computer, or indeed any device of any kind, the value of typing was questionable

But inevitably the tea is delivered into grateful hands. Both of them. Everyone else has not time for Job and his ideas of patience. Mohammed moves to the mountain and the bewildered tea lady is gently but firmly relieved of her tray bearing mugs of tea even before she leaves the kitchen. Those of us old enough to remember footage of one Daniel Arap Moi helping out with building gabions will understand how those mugs rapidly pass from hand to hand.

The effects of the tea are almost instantaneous. Our colleague who hitherto has been communicating with grunts and scowls now peppers his speech with words like onomatopoeia and refers to his token salary as the ‘ product of a decidedly conservative fiscal policy’.

“Good mornings” that has been hitherto responded to with hostile glares are warmly returned. Hands are clasped in a comradely atmosphere and inquiries into the health of the wife and the baby are exchanged.

Sons of toil shout with good natured amusement on realizing that power has been gone for the last half hour and therefore all their typing has been in vain.

People have been known to snap out of a semi-comatose state and state with wonder that their last recollection was laying their weary heads on their pillows and are surprised and amazed to find themselves in the office kitchen.

Hair that has hitherto been wildly spiky relaxes and mellows (except mine).

Brothers and sisters hail themselves with cheer and enthusiasm, and as power is reconnected, another day of industry proceeds.

AOB

The tribulations of my man Archer should be a lesson to all. There are yahoos everywhere.  KBW, needless to say, is *not* an exception. Watch thyself!

 Puff Johnson – Yearning