Image from DevelopKenya.com

The following statements would issue from my office in reaction to events

March 1, 2012

I wish to congratulate the PNU Alliance in selecting Gideon Mbuvi as their presidential candidate after democratic competition.

I salute PNU and its affiliates for sticking together and respecting the will of its members.

In the spirit of competition I would like to assure them of a strong campaign from my party as we try to spark a bright future for this nation.

Congratulations and may the best man win.

March 8, 2012

Dear Kenyans,

After consultations with my dear wife Ida and my sons, daughter and immediate family, I wish to regretfully withdraw myself for competition in the Presidential Elections.

I have served this country tirelessly for more than 30 years and my family and I feel it is time to retire to quiet introspection and charity work.

I wish all the candidates vying for the presidential ticket in ODM the best success.

March 9, 2012

I note with concern the collapse of the PNU alliance, and more so the updating of the ECK register to indicate all the PNU leading lights have decided to run for presidency themselves.

I urge them to respect their party structures and gentleman agreements for the good of their parties and democracies as a whole

April 2, 2012

Fellow Kenyans,

My announcement to withdraw from the presidential race has caused concern in not only my extended family, but my constituency, my county and the country as a whole.

I have been receiving delegations all month urging me to reconsider my position.

After consulting with my wife Ida, my immediate family and my spiritual advisor, I have decided to heed the will of the people and offer myself as a presidential candidate on the ODM ticket.

I wish messers Ruto, Saitoti, Kenyatta, Kalonzo all the success in their individual presidential campaigns and congratulate them in their bravery in striking out on their own.

I hold the educational system we have in a fine disdain.

I think it is a short sighted, shallow façade. And I will explain why over this series of posts.

“But you have been through the same system yourself!” You cry.

Indeed. But owning an ugly car does not keep you from knowing what an ugly car looks like.

The other day I was having a banter with one of the neighbourhood kids, a young lady in Standard 7.

It was without a doubt one of the saddest conversations I have ever had.

She wakes up at 5.00 to put in an hour of study.

She prepares herself for school and is waiting for the bus at 6.15

She has classes from 7 in the morning to 6 in the evening.

She has Saturday classes from 9 to 1.

She has homework daily. Without fail. For at least 2 subjects.

She goes to school for 3 of of the 4 weeks of her April and August holidays.

And she’s only about 13 years.

There is a word for this, ladies and gentlemen. And that word is INSANITY.

Her school bag, which he had with her at the time, was impossibly large and impossibly full. I found it troublesome to carry it myself.

I asked her what she did during her free time.

She looked at me blankly.

“When do you for example, read or cycle for pleasure?” I asked.

She was quite blunt

I have no time for pleasure.

I thought back to my childhood when I was in her shoes.

And thought about riding my bike. And reading Tintin, Asterix, Hardy Boys, Billy Bunter and Alistair MacLean.

And reading How Things Work and Encycopaedia Britannica. And going for adventures within and without the estate. And making functional cars out of wire hangers and electrical wire.

And climbing trees without thinking about whether it would be possible to climb down as well.

I have no doubt doing all these things contributed heavily to being the man that I am today.

And I am saddened that this unfortunate girl is being denied these very things. And ten years from now society will pay the price for denying her the very essence of being a kid – being a kid.

Believe me. We will pay.

Next: The Trouble with Primary Education

I think this would make Facebook a damn sight more useful. And interesting.

You don’t know meWe’ve actually met once. Chances are you don’t remember. But it’s all good. I tried very hard to be incognito during that occasion.

I wish you all the best on your recent tribulations. It must be rough being accused of all the things you are accused of. May justice prevail in the end.

There’s something I’d like to ask you.

Increasingly of late you have been saying “Tuko pamoja”, presumably as a way of indicating solidarity with we, the unwashed masses.

You probably mean well, but I find it difficult to relate with you.

Perhaps I can explain

1. You don’t pay taxes
2. As wealthy people go, you and your family are not doing too badly
3. You have a handsome housing allowance
4. Your vehicle transportation is paid for, so you won’t notice the fuel hikes
5. You fly abroad at government expense, and stay in fairly good hotels at government expense as well
6. While at the airports you make use of the VIP lounge
7. You probably don’t know where to get matatus for Komarock
8. Few of us have airports named after their fathers (JKIA)
9. Few of us have highways named after us (Uhuru Highway)
10. Few of us have parks named after us (Uhuru Park)
11. Few of us have streets named after us (Kenyatta Avenue)
12. Few of us have universities named after us (Kenyatta University)
13. Few of us have conference centers named after us (KICC)
14. Your home is palatial. (And absolutely awesome sir. Very well done!)

How then, sir, are we ‘pamoja’? On what possible fronts can you relate to the common man who has been crippled by the 9 bob rise in kerosene prices?

If I may be impertinent enough to presume to offer you unsolicited advice – I suggest you adopt another catch phrase.

I know you mean well, but it may – MAY come across as a mockery.

Tuko PamojaWarmest regards,

A Kenyan

I say this because such a lifestyle is infinitely more pleasurable to the absurdity that is the farce of the ICC circus.

Concerned friends thought I was simultaneously having a stroke and a powerful bout of diarrhoea as I took in the sight of Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto in a stadium in Nakuru being cheered on by thousands, some of whom invariably lost family in Nakuru. As a great man once asked succinctly, “Dude – WTF?”

Other concerned friends confiscated all the sharp objects around me as I digested the news that 40+ MPs, whose responsibility is making laws and looking after the interests of their constituents were electing to abdicate this responsibility to travel as paid windbags to the Hague, ostensibly in solidarity with the six. How, for goodness sake does this happen? Why aren’t these muppets in solidarity with the internally displaced?

Who will pay for these tickets? Let us assume that a return ticket is 180,000. For 40 windbags this is a travel budget of 7,200,000. Yes sir, 7.2 million iron men being wasted. We are yet to even think about accommodation, transport and meals for the 6 Alis Baba and their 40 appropriators of wealth that is not strictly speaking theirs.

I can just imagine the cumulative effect of these 40 idlers on the Dutch populace who have never seen professional time wasters in person.

One cannot talk about this matter without touching on His Excellency Stephen Kalonzo Muskoka. I had the misfortune of meeting him the other day during some innocuous event. He said to me “Good morning” and dear reader I must confess at the time to being unable to believe even those words that came out of his lips.

I wonder if there is anyone, besides his loving wife that takes that gentleman seriously (and even that is speculation).

This man has been flying around in shitshuttle diplomacy to convince other countries to back the deferral of the ICC case.

The realization that this government has probably done more to assist the Ocampo 6 than it has for the IDP victims makes me want to expand my KPIs at the farm to stripping down to boxers and wrestling with fat, greasy pigs every morning in an attempt to exercise them.

This past Sunday in a gratuitous charade of theatre show of emotion Uhuru Kenyatta’s tearful mother blessed her son and William Ruto and accused colonialists of the troubles befalling her offspring.

It is pure speculation that she later wondered why hungry people unable to get bread were not eating chocolate biscuits.

My life flashed before my eyes as the porridge I was drinking went down the wrong way and threatened to kill me when Mrs. Kenyatta promised to write a bestseller detailing modern colonialism in this country.

This reminds me of the time a some indignant hyenas and lions promised an assorted pack of wildebeest, kudu, gazelles and buffalo to write a tell all expose on dangerous carnivores in the Masai Mara.

But let us return the the matter at hand and look at the famous 6

William Ruto, aka The Corn Man

Todate William Ruto has been unable to shake off the powdery white substance that looks remarkably like flour that enveloped him while he was custodian of the country’s Agriculture ministry.

There has been intense speculation over the past few years that William has a ‘tell’ such that it is possible to know when he is lying. The tell apparently is that his lips move.

Brigadier General Hussein Ali, aka the Postmaster

Good old Brigadier Ali is called the Postmaster for the excellent reason that he is the Postmaster.

The Brigadier probably bitterly regrets ever picking up the phone and taking instructions from his Commander In Chief to nip in the bud an army career to come and run the police force.

Todate he is still stamping out crime, but in denominations of 20 shillings

Ambassador Francis Muthaura, aka Ambassador Francis Muthaura

Some small boys I regularly play football with expressed surprise when I corrected them by informing them that ‘Ambassador’ was not actually his first name.

Uhuru Kenyatta, aka AKA

Anyone with an appreciation of timber furniture especially tables would do well to be wary of this gentleman, who has a penchant for banging tables in anger. Uhuru Kenyatta is a man whom at some level I admire. Anyone who can see no contradiction between advocating for togetherness of Kenyans as a people while simultaneously speaking in vernacular and threatening those unwilling to toe the line is to be admired.

Henry Kosgey, aka The G-Man

Henry Kosgey, commonly referred to as the dinosaur of Kenyan politics is a man whose chief claim to fame is an unwillingness to use the letter C. This naturally greates a guagmire for segretaries taging digtation

Joshua Arap Sang, aka News In Brief

Arap Sang, a diminutive journalist invariably is known to many as “Habari Kwa Ufupi”. Arap Sang has cultivated my personal admiration in his attempts to get out of having to go to the Hague. Hampered by a lack of wealth like his fellow 6 he has been forced to

1. Write shamelessly to the ICC that he, a trained and professional journalist, suddenly finds it difficult to communicate in English
2. Write again to the ICC to request funds for his transport and accommodation. Nothing fancy, you understand

He has also, impressively within the same week managed to break his arm.

This is bound to be an interesting week!

If you call someone and they don’t pick, and you call them again and they don’t pick, DON’T CALL A THIRD TIME.

Really.

Calling a third time makes you look like a complete doofus, and every time after that increases your DF (doofus factor) exponentially.

Some people, like me for example, take it as a challenge to see how many times i can ignore your phone calls if you call more than twice in a row. I have successfully artificially evolved the gene that removes the urgent need to answer a phone call and say "hello" as soon as the phone rings.

This makes me unpopular in particular with people in the sales profession, who think I am kidding when I say "Don’t call me, I’ll call you". Attn. those folks peddling mortgages, credit cards and loans from Barclays etc. Don’t call me. Really.

If you call someone twice and they don’t pick it is because of one of two reasons

1. They cannot pick the call (in a meeting, driving, being mauled by a hyena etc)
2. They do not wish to pick your call (you are a stalker, you are owed money etc)

Whichever the case may be, calling for the 40th time does not increase your chances of hearing " {Click} Hello?" If anything it steels the determination.

If you know you’re not No.2, just wait after your second attempt. Your call will be returned. If not — well, try physical stalking.

Also, by the way, joining chocolate teapots and powdered water is the question "Why weren’t you picking my calls?"

Don’t ask that question, because there are only two possibilities and only one answer

1. Person could not pick the call because they were in a meeting, driving, etc. In which case they will tell you they were unable to pick the call
2. Person did not wish to pick the call because you closely resemble Onyancha. In which case they will tell you anyway they were unable to pick the call.

In summary, there is only one answer to this question, so don’t bother asking it. Save time. Save your credit.

And if you are an adult of sound mind and body, are gainfully employed and are still flashing folks … may you wake up in the Middle of New York with Osama Bin Laden’s face grafted onto your own. You are, in colloquially correct Kiswahili, a "shenzi type!"

Secondly, there is a window between when they receive the food from the kitchen and when they put it down on your plate with a plastic smile for your rude countenance. Anything can happen in that window including surreptitious introduction of various substances and/or bodily fluids.

Think about that tine next time you are rude and obnoxious to these hard working ladies and gents

Just wait there. I’ll be right back. Promise

It cannot be just me that thinks it is a steaming pile of the brown stuff for Jesse James and Tiger Woods to, as it is cleverly put, "voluntarily enroll themselves in personal rehabilitation centers".

Excuse me while I snort my laughter.

"Rehabilitation centers"? As a great man once eloquently asked me via SMS, "Dude, WTF?"

Maybe its just me but I don’t buy that bollocks for one second The talk of rehabilitation means that Tiger and Jesse are somehow not to blame for cheating on their wives and attempting to notch bedposts in their immediate environment. That somehow a demon of some sort took control and they had no control of their actions.

"Upussss!" as a watchman friend of mine is fond of sniggering.

In my humble opinion Tiger and Jesse did what they did because

1. They wanted to
2. They could

All this talk of rehab seems to imply that they somehow lost control of their faculties and were somehow not to blame.

Uh huh.

Let’s call a spade a spade. Every man’s default settings (up to and including men of the cloth) are to attempt precisely what those gentlemen have been doing.

Here’s the important distinction: what makes men different from animals is that they have the concept of choice. You can choose whether or not you want to play away matches, plough alternate fields, sample different wares etc.

When you get married you choose to be faithful to one woman. Contrary to popular belief there is no switch that is flicked that makes you impervious to other women. If anything a wedding ring seems to be a powerful magnet, but I digress. Point is, upende usipende, it is your responsibility to resist the forbidden fruit.

It is not easy. And people have been known to fail. It has happened. But if it does one must take responsibility for one’s actions.

Those gents chose not to be faithful so it is absurd for them to portray a pathos of patient suffering as they tell us they voluntarily checked into rehabilitation centers. Ha ha! Gentlemen, tell us another one.

Tiger and Jesse are not exceptions. We are all cowards in some way or the other (self included).

Nothing seems to be anyone’s fault.

We have lousy leadership that unites an inept president, ineffective prime minister, blonde vice president and absolutely buffoonish incompetent MPs. We didn’t vote, but somehow it is not our fault.

MPs who failed to reach consensus on the constitution have the temerity to tell us they will push for ‘No’ because they did not reach consensus. But its not their fault.

We never read the constitution draft because we were too busy making Makmende trend and so suspect amendments have been made. We didn’t keep a watch and take our leaders to task, but its not our fault there are strange amendments in the constitution.

Goldenberg? It was nobody’s fault.

Free education money that was stolen and we seem to have forgotten about? Nobody’s fault either.

Tribalism? Here we are in 2010 with politicians still talking about ‘voting as a community’. But it’s nobody’s fault we are becoming increasingly tribal by the day.

Perhaps it would save time if we simply went around wearing this T-Shirt

And chorus for This Song could be the new world anthem