Mheshimiwa, take that House oath at your own peril
Story by MILDRED NGESA
Dear politician aka Parliamentarian, I thought I would address you as leaders, but not just yet, because none of you has proved that they can lead. If any of you had, then by now peace and security for every Kenyan would not be negotiable, it would virtually be a birthright
With that out of the way, I now get to my second point of scorn.
I guess none of you is going to abscond the swearing-in ceremony tomorrow, right? No, I never expected you to, not when there is so much at stake and so fat a pay-cheque to pick at the end of the month! I just cross-checked and learnt that when you take your oath in Parliament, you actually do not make any binding promise to serve the constituents who voted you into power per se.
Development Fund
You pledge your loyalty to the Government, the presidency and to uphold the Constitution, but never specifically to the voters in your back yard that decided that you are worth controlling their Constituency Development Fund.
Thus, dear parliamentarians aka politicians, you might think that this lapse gives you the onuses to sneak out of your responsibility and accountability to the voter but lest you forget, you need to remember that you chose a mighty volatile period to gun for power and prosperity in this country.
In those guarded chambers where you sit, a false sense of security may deter you from facing the reality of the chaos outside.
No, Mheshimiwa, never mistake an “uneasy calm” for peace, never mistake a temporary lull for a permanent reprieve. From where I stand, this calm feels like the lull before a storm, a storm which probably, you as the Mheshimiwa that you are has had a hand in, a storm which could well be within your mandate to stop but you have not.
You know about the tribalism you have fuelled, the corruption, social and economic injustices you have encouraged.
So, go ahead, hold your holy books up high, assume the blameless stance that you are so well known of and swear aloud about the fallacy and the deceit that has diminished every ounce in you that should have made you a real leader.
Senseless killings
Today you bellow from your every inch condemning the senseless killings, anarchy and animosity that are being fanned by none other than your own selfish and power-hungry intrigues.
While the slaves that are your supporters butcher each other and destroy the very sense of humanity that is vital for existence, you sip smooth wine at hotel verandas and communicate with your families tucked abroad via your expensive satellite phones.
And speaking of families, Mheshimiwa, why is it that we never see your wives and children biting the dust in protests and choke on tear-gas? How come it is always somebody else receiving the flak on your behalf?
If you really believe in your leadership, if you are really true to the course of justice and democracy, then do so with your own blood — the very same blood that your helpless poor supporters are spilling in your name!
Tomorrow, you will invoke dignity and integrity to serve this nation. You will, in all due respect, look fit for the part but even as you stand before all of us to repeat the lies which we so much hate to hear, I have a question for you; are you a Kenyan first or a parliamentarian first? Would you be ready to sacrifice everything in pursuit of truth and justice like the 500 Kenyans who have died in the past two weeks in your name? Or are your bags packed, visas stamped and planes ready for takeoff with your families the moment chaos explodes?
So, you thought it was easy game to seek the chance to lead? Well, you have chewed the dough of a Herculean task. Much more than you can swallow. But you asked for it and fought for it and declared that the wellbeing of a multitude of constituents or that of a population of a nation would be a walk through the park. Oh, and by the way, from the way things are looking right now, gone are the days when Kenyans used to go mum over injustices and irregularities; gone are the days when Kenyans revered their MPs just from the cars they drove and the type of shoes they wear. They know the truth. You know where and how the mess begun. If you want to be the leaders you claim you are, then stop being the cowards you have always been and face this nation straight in the face and heal these wounds which YOU, the politicians have so deeply inflicted.
Not yet time to celebrate
Normal? What normalcy? Just because traffic is back in the streets and supermarkets are open does not warrant a sigh of relief. It beats me every time I hear FM stations proclaim that now things “are okay”. The call-ins come, listeners are in the matatu on their way to work and then “Thank God things are back to normal now!”
Well, I refuse to be part of the fallacy. I refuse to sit pretty and heave a sigh just because a broadcaster has not recorded an incident. For as long as there are innocent Kenyans lying cold, and lifeless in a war that should never have been theirs, things will never be normal. As long as there are thousands of refugees in this country whom despite their homes being just a stone’s throw away can never go back because of fear of reprisal, normalcy will remain a mirage.
And for as long as the realities of what caused the chaos in this country two weeks ago are not addressed as opposed to hiding behind guises of calls for peace and reconciliation, normalcy will feel like a temporary reprieve from a bad dream which has lingered too long — the kind of dream which often sires a nightmare.
Duped to play hunter’s dog
There is no other way of putting this mildly. I thank naturalised human rights crusader and democracy activist Mugambi Kiai of the Open Society Initiative East Africa (OSIEA) for saying it so raw and plainly. Mugambi sought to scratch the conscience of those who opted to engage in senseless acts of violence and lawlessness. May those also who claim to be fighting each other in the name of loyalty to their respective politicians also know what it means to be used in this way.
Listen to Mugambi:
“When hunters go to hunt, they come along with dogs. It is the dogs that are used to chase and catch the prey. The dogs sweat it out; they are the actual hunters that risk a hunting escapade. But what happens after the catch? The prey belongs to the hunter. The giant share, the fleshy bits, the succulent portions are never given to the dog. No, if anything, the dog will only get to taste the bones, those that would be thrown at it after the master has had his feast”. So there you have it all of you who are being used as dogs in this political hunting game. This is a painful truth. You will never get to feast on the giant share of which you so viciously fight for. Because all that you are is a hunting dog. If you are lucky, you will only get to taste the bones from the remains.
And here is a clarion call to all journalists of good will especially the women in the profession who are taking it in their stride to dig deeper into what it would take to heal this nation of the madness from a flawed political leadership. Today, senior media women at a Nairobi hotel add their voices to abhorring the sham that has become our democracy, justice system and political leadership. Today, Kenya’s women journalists are striving for a Heal our Nation campaign aimed to last for as long as it will take.
Women journalists
Where there are atrocities of a hidden past that need to be unravelled, these media women want to do it. Where ethnicity has been used to breed hate and animosity, women journalists want to correct it. Where economic disparities have prospered causing class divisions and unjust divides, these women want to tackle it. Where heroes and heroines of this current struggle are going un-named and unnoticed as they dedicate their selfless duty to serve and love amidst the horrors of tribal and ethnic polarisation, women journalists want to honour them in every way. The mission and vision of these women of the fourth estate reads as long as their oomph and determination to stand-up and be counted.
They come amidst the noise that has been the chaos since December 27. They are the messengers of hope and hope is something we are desperately in need of.
National dress of anarchy and bloodshed
There, now we have it — the sense of identity that we have craved for so long. A national dress. We always wanted one, which would stand as a sense of who we are before the world. A national dress, we coveted.
We wanted something that could proclaim a piece of each one of the 34 million of us — something that would show our “Kenyanness”. We wanted a dress that would show the world our hearts and souls, a dress that would tell the world the kind of people we are. Now we have it.
Cherish nationalism
A dress of blood, one that has the hateful symbol of machetes, pangas and hate-laden stereotypes against each other. We have it I say, and the world has no doubt at all about the identity we so much craved to present. There go the bloodthirsty, throat-slitting, arson-hungry Kenyans. There go a people who know not, what it means to cherish nationalism, to foster unity. There go those hopeless Kenyans who might forever remain naked, who have just displayed their preference of a damned “national dress”.
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