I am not a big fun of political discussions. More often than not these discussions rub people the wrong way and things tend to get too intense. But today I am compelled to deviate. I feel like there’s a thorn that is lodged in my foot and the only way to pull it out is to share what’s going through my mind. If I don’t communicate these thoughts I will not only have failed myself but also my state, the human race and every other organism on this planet.
Today morning I was at my bro’s place admiring their adorable new born son (and resisting the urge to bite his tiny fingers) when I received the distressing news that Ferdinand Waititu had won the TNA nominations after beating Jimnah Mbaru. Now this not the kind of news you want to hear on a blessed Saturday morning. It is especially not the kind of news you want a promising child to hear in the first week of its existence. You don’t know what it might do to the child’s perspective toward the universe. You don’t want a child’s first words to be, “I swear this world sucks!” We were all distraught when we received the news. The little guy didn’t exactly articulate this but I could see it in his eyes.
It could be worse though. Much worse. Just take a minute and imagine seeing this headline on the dailies sometime in March…
Ferdinand Waititu Becomes The First Governor Of Kenya’s Capital, Nairobi.
Now that right there is the kind of headline that would turn me into a psychotic serial killer. It’s the kind of headline that would make a Bishop start serving Vodka to his congregation – and they wouldn’t mind. It’s that kind of headline that makes women start growing moustaches. Earthquakes and Tsunamis have been known to be triggered by such headlines. Heck the devil himself would probably throw in the towel and go like “To hell with this shit!” Then proceed to shoot himself in the head.
It’s just not right.
I simply can’t picture a world where Waititu is my Governor. Not even in the stone-age when he could have achieved his full potential. It doesn’t even sound right. Waititu should not be the Governor of Nairobi. I mean this is the kind of guy that leaves his office, perches at the back left of his car and instructs his chauffeur to drive him to the nearest obstreperous protest. His intention at this point is not to get there and apply a little diplomacy in an effort quell the riots like a true leader should. Nah. Waititu sits there stretching his triceps as he anticipates the opportunity of his lifetime… The chance to throw stones and hurl insults like an uneducated buffoon.
When a serious MP was contemplating how he would deal with insecurity in his constituency; or how he could create employment opportunities, Waititu was sitting in his office calculating how he was going to burst someone’s head open with a stone. In his desk he probably had a few stones which he would throw against the wall, you know, just to keep in shape.
Now picture this, as the Governor of Nairobi, Waititu would be expected to attend high profile conferences. He would meet with all the dignitaries that visit Nairobi on official duty. Can you picture Waititu sitting opposite Queen Elizabeth? What would in the world he say to her? How would he even say it? The queen doesn’t speak Kikuyu does she?
That’s the guy that stands the chance of being my Governor? If there’s a God in heaven…
Nairobi is not Mogadishu. This is one of Africa’s financial hubs. We need an intelligent representative. We can’t leave our treasured city in the hands of a frivolous hooligan. Nairobi would never forgive us. Our children and our generation don’t deserve the retribution. No one deserves it. Even the wild animals in Nairobi National Park know they deserve better.
I am consoling myself with the fact that it’s mainly idlers who showed up and voted for Waititu during these nominations. Most of us were either working or in lecture rooms. We have no excuse come March 4th. It doesn’t matter if it’ll be raining hailstones or the sun will be shining like it’s on a mission. Even if you’re unwell, unless you’re really dying, please come out and vote. Even if you’re suffering from diarrhea please leave your house and run to the beginning of the queue and explain yourself. Of course it will be easier for you if you carry a sample.
Let’s not leave the future of Nairobi to chance. For the sake of all that’s holy let us all come out and vote on the Election Day. At least let us do one right thing on that ballot paper. Regardless of your political party affiliations, let us be reasonable when it comes to the Nairobi’s gubernatorial seat.
I believe the much better option would be Dr. Evans Kidero. He looks like a pretty decent guy. He is intelligent and has a relatively good track record. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy that would carry stones in his briefcase. Or pockets. I am sure he will have the correct response when a dignitary turns to him and says, “How do you do Sir?” He won’t mumble something inaudible while looking away. He most certainly won’t say, “Mi sina wauwau.” I swear Waititu looks like the kind guy that would look at Obama and go like, “Eh kutweng nayo.”
Guys I can’t stress this enough; the future of this great city lies in our hands. Let us take responsibility.
I was sitting at home yesterday afternoon reading a book when I thought I heard a feint knock on my front door. I walked up to the window and saw a small boy of about 2 years fiddling with the latch of the door. I ignored him and went back to the couch and picked up from where I’d left off. The little boy would however not leave my door alone. Apparently his tricycle and fancy toys were not fun enough for him. He was probably standing there wondering why his dad had never bought him a latch.
I couldn’t take it anymore. From experience, I know talking sense to kids never works. They have a habit of turning it into a game in which the madder you get the more exciting the game gets. With this in mind, I decided to give the kid a little scare. I slowly walked to the door, put my hand through that space that allows you to close the door from outside, and grabbed his tiny hand.
The outcome was a tad more dramatic than I had anticipated. As soon as I grabbed the kid’s hand he let out a cry so loud my eardrums rattled. A cry so loud I shuddered. I let go of the tiny hand instantly and took a step back. I could hear neighbors’ doors opening. You should have seen me on the other side of the door startled out of my wits.
The house help ran to the rescue. She was joined by two others. I realized that if I didn’t open the door they would know I was the culprit. I am barely a week old in this hood and the last thing I want is to be branded ‘the creepy neighbor’. I got an epiphany. I opened the door while rubbing my eyes like I had just been rudely awakened from slumber. I had this perplexed look as I asked them what was going on. They were then examining the child to see if he’d cut or broken something… like his entire arm. They explained that they had just heard the kid scream. I asked if he was okay. They said he seemed okay.
I turned to the kid looking all concerned and asked him if he was all right. The look he gave me almost made me confess my sins. It’s the same look you would have on if you met a Kenyan MP. It was a look of disgust. He didn’t utter a single word but I’m sure deep down he wished he had the strength to knock me unconscious. As the house help led him away, he once again turned to get one last look at me. Only the two of us knew what had transpired. If only I could let him know that my intention was not to scare the living crap out of him. Have scientists come up with a word for the phobia of door latches yet?
I am not even sure why I shared this story. It has nothing much to do with the rest of this blog. It could be because I wanted you guys to know that I have started reading again. You probably don’t give a damn but if you enjoy reading my stories then this is good news. Really good news.
I am on my 3rd book this week. I started with Stephen King’s “On Writing”. An awe-inspiring book that is a must read for any aspiring writer. King emphasizes on the importance of reading as a writer. He says that ‘reading is the creative center of a writer’s life’. He further states that ‘the real importance of reading is that it creates an ease and intimacy with the process of writing’.
I used to be quite the reader in Primary School. I went through as many Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys as I could get my hands on. In high school the habit (together with numerous other beneficial habits) dwindled. I picked up the habit after campus – the upside of a snobbish job market I guess. As soon as I started working and got access to high speed internet, TV took over. Right about last year when I tried out writing I had intentions of reviving the culture but then I discovered just how exciting twitter was. If I’d spent the hours I wasted reading people’s tweets actually reading books I’d probably have gotten the inspiration to work on my own. I’d probably be looking for a publisher right about now.
I am spending less time on the social media now. I am not trying to watch every tv series and movie ever produced. I am reading much more. I am also taking baby steps toward getting my writing back on. I have a new, exciting job that is less demanding. I will have much more time on my hands. I do not have an excuse. If need be, I will get a shrink to deal with my writing insecurities.
In short, Joey is back from the long hiatus. I will not promise to publish a post every other week. There are also other projects I will be working on. Plus I want to write interesting stories because I actually have something interesting to say and avoid posting mediocre stories for the sake of posting something. However on a good week I will post twice if I can. The plan is simply not to constrain myself.
In other news, the holiday’s over folks. Just like that. I am hoping y’all got the best out of it. I for one went all out. I bet that’s why January is being exceedingly mean to me with illnesses and shit. I totally owned December. I bet even the next one is scared. I thank God for the tough month of January though. Think about it, some of us would ‘get lost’ in the world were it not for this month. At the rate I see some of you partying, an extra month like December would render you retards. Like this guy I overheard asking if he could be allowed to camp on the beach. January didn’t come soon enough for him.
This is the month we also get to think long and hard about our lives. Especially when you’ve cleaned out your account and you’re home alone, unwell and KPLC is playing a sick pranks on you… Okay let me not personalize things here. I’m just saying you shouldn’t be afraid of reflecting a little. There’s always that habit that can be dropped, that one good practice that can be adopted, that job/relationship that can be chased. There is always that one thing that can be changed to better your life.
PS: It’s nice having y’all back on here.