Low-lifes want to mess up our country

This is the most important post I have written in a very long time and I am not ashamed to say that I write it with tears trickling down my cheeks.

My parents were not rich but I was brought up fairly comfortably. I never went hungry and I was dropped at school by car every day. I was never sent home even once because of my fees not being paid.

But I am also very grateful for the experience I had when I finished my sixth form and decided to move out of my father’s house right away. The first thing that hit me hard was when I realized that I could not afford to pay rent on my own anywhere near the Kileleshwa neighbourhood where my dad resided at the time. Even the servants quarters available in the area were way out of my reach as a freelance journalist and aspiring writer. I ended up in Riruta a reasonable middle class estate at that time but not far from the sprawling Kawangware slums. I was shocked that there were pit latrines anywhere close to Nairobi and filthy ones at that. I was yet to discover that this was sheer luxury compared to the good folks at Kibera who do not have toilets at all and have to use paper bags which they then throw all over the place. But I was overjoyed to be independent. I am grateful to God every day that I was born the kind of person who can be comfortable virtually anywhere.

That was the beginning of my education on how most Kenyans live this life. Always the curious type I ventured into many slum areas making friends easily and learning what I thought would always be for my own consumption.

I learnt how most kids in this area love to drink plenty of water because they are hungry most of the day and will only have a single meal in a day (which more often than not will not even be enough). And so they fill their stomach with water to dull the hunger pangs. I went hungry myself many times as I struggled to prove to myself and my dad that I was capable of taking care of myself.

I saw things that made me wonder whether I was still in Kenya. One particular encounter in the Kibera slums just floored me and has haunted me since.

In Kibera Kenyans who have gone without food for a few days usually hang around on the roads and deliberately throw themselves in front of a passing car that is not moving too fast. The whole idea is to get some kind of payment “to go to hospital” from the “rich” driver of the vehicle. And it works sometimes. The hungry young man may get hit quite badly sometimes but at least he ends up with a few coins given to him to go to hospital but which he will use to buy some food. I once asked a friend in the slums if the people who do this do not fear death. His answer shocked me to my bones. For people who live in these slum areas death is sometimes a welcome escape from the life of hopelessness they live every day. And thus many of them do not fear death. The immediate motive is to eat but if they die that is even better because they will never need to worry again about what they will eat tomorrow.

With this kind of background I get sick hearing some NGO-type still burping and farting from her six course lunch appear on national TV and give Kenyans wonderful theories about why Waititu should be barred from contesting. Or the fat journalist still sweating from a nyamachoma lunch who writes a column saying that TNA chaps are crazy to from Waitutu for governor of Nairobi.

Well the low-lifes are the vast majority of voters and fortunately there is nothing anybody can do about that (unless you want to change the constitution and give the chaps at Lavington 3 votes for every single one cast by a low-life). These are the kind of people supporting the political aspirations of Ferdinand Waititu and Michael Gideon Sonko. They are not on social media and neither will they be able to leave a comment here to praise this post despite the fact that internet access is so cheap these days. They have other more basic needs to worry about. But the truth is that Waititu speaks their language and so does Sonko. And that is why you can be sure that those two individuals are as good as already elected.

Over the last few days I have read and heard all kinds of comments about how stupid and ridiculous it is for anybody to imagine Waititu as governor of Nairobi. They have really saddened me.

I have realized that the divide between the haves and the have-nothings has continued to widen considerably because the experiences I describe above are from the late 80s. Between that time and now a lot more has happened to worsen the lot of the less privileged in Kenya. Meanwhile our leaders have continued to behave with arrogance and in a manner that would suggest that it is not true that over 70% of Nairobians live in slums. Is it any surprise that leaders like Waititu and Sonko have attracted the constituency that they have?

I have coined the phrase low-lifes from one of my relatives who really looks down on those less privileged Kenyans and has no time for them. And yet they do not hail from a rich family, in fact she walked to school in her time and was sent home several times for lack of fees. Indeed I have noticed that the worst people are not even the rich but the middle class and those aspiring to be associated with the well to do. I have watched with amusement as some of my brothers get extremely UNcomfortable when I mix freely with the so-called “low lifes.”

Our press is not any better because it has become extremely elitist. Journalists write their stories as if they were in Europe or somewhere in the United States. This would have been laughable if it were not so tragic. And if we were not sitting on a time bomb that will have to explode some day. I remember when I was trying to get into journalism there used to be a small pub somewhere along Moi avenue where journalists mixed freely with the public and many ordinary Kenyans. In those days there were many journalists who lived in Eastlands and especially the parts of Eastlands that are not well to do. In those days the newspapers were much more readable and I wonder these days why the leading daily newspapers don’t simply move to Muthaiga and do all their reporting and coverage there instead of pretending that they represent the masses.

You can keep on looking down on low-lifes, their thinking and political choices but be aware of the fact that their day is coming. Don’t for a minute fool yourself that the walls surrounding your leafy neighborhood house are high enough or that the dogs roaming in your compound are fierce enough to protect you when the time comes.

I write this post well aware of the fact that for all intents and purposes I am playing guitar music to goats. Still I declare today that I stand with the low-lifes of Kenya and all my views and opinions here will reflect that without any fear or embarrassment.

Waititu is the best governor that Nairobi can ever have and if for no other reason at least his elevation will delay the coming violent class wars when the low-lifes wake up one morning and decide that they have had enough.

P.S. If this post did not make any sense to you I recommend that you skip your 2 next meals (you can drink as much water as you wish) and then come back and read this post when you are still hungry. You may just begin to understand it then. There is no way burpers and farters can comprehend the contents here and so I advice that you d not even try.

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