In about 100 years or so, my descendants and those of my brothers and sisters might not know each other. There’s a small chance they could, if they all live around the same area but I think they will be living their separate lives in different parts of Kenya and probably the world. If we are lucky, they might know us. I say all this because as of now, I know very few descendants of my grandparent’s siblings. Where are they? What do they do? What do they look like? I don’t know.
Violence is synonymous with elections in Kenya. There hasn’t been an election in the recent past where tensions didn’t simmer, boil over and eventually lead to deaths, including those of innocent children. The violence is of varied forms; hired goons by politicians, sore losers, criminals taking advantage of the mayhem and police using excessive force, firing stray bullets and killing innocent people.
It’s distasteful to the point that people temporarily relocate during elections. People go to their rural areas in fear that their neighbors of the other tribe could turn against them because of their competing candidates. Those who are privileged move their families out of the country for that period.
A few years ago, a plane took off from Juba with three planned stops in different parts of South Sudan. On arrival at the first location, the grass was too long on the airstrip and the pilot could not land. People were actually cutting the grass. He decided to go to the next airstrip and it was flooded because of heavy rains that had earlier pounded the area. They could not land. Looking at his calculations, the pilot realized that there was too much weight on board to reach the third airstrip.
The fight against corruption in Kenya (and all over the world) is first and foremost a moral one. There is a legal and physical aspect to it, but morality is the most central question in all corruption cases. It is a fight between right and wrong, between darkness and the light.
I have always thought of going to prison, not to be locked up but to visit someone who is. The curiosity of knowing how it looks like behind those high walls and how inmates perceive freedom has always intrigued me. Maybe I have watched too many movies, but, that’s me.
The Friday night when President Uhuru Kenyatta was announced the winner of the presidential election was a conflicting night for me. Even before the certificate was given, I heard screams and cheers of celebration on the street outside our apartment. The celebration became louder once the final announcement was made. I went to the gate to witness the celebration and it was intense.
I have never seen so many people on our street at night, most of them in red. They shouted, screamed, sang, made all kinds of noises to make sure the message was heard, that their candidate had won. Motorbikes, lorries, matatus hooted as they were driven up and down the street. I did not realize that I live in a Continue reading Kenyan or Christian first?→
The last time the IEBC was carrying out voter registration, I was very eager to be registered. I was keen to get my voter’s card and God willing this year participate for the first time in shaping the future of this great nation. Though eligible, I could not vote in the last two elections due to geographical circumstances. During the registration I kept asking people at home, in church and at work whether they had registered as voters during that voter registration exercise.
Some had registered but others said they did not see the need to. The argued that their vote will not change anything, that it would not matter in the elections since it is just one vote, it would make no difference. Some would boldly declare that Continue reading What is in your hand, patriot?→