Testing, testing..... does this mic work?!! Ahem, ahemmmmm (Clearing throat noisily and adjusting speaker volume). Clearly this post has been a long time coming. My lovely 3.67 readers got tired of watching this space and decided to do get back to doing better things with their time like quest for powdered water or something of equally magnanimous significance (Teeheehee, there I go with the big words!!)So anyhuuuuu.... back to the long overdue post.
In ‘Ibada Yangu’ Riggah says “... Be careful of your doctrine it determines who you reach” These words have really been eating me up inside for quite a bit. You see, I’ve been trying to figure out at what point the doctrine of love, no, even love is asking for too much, let me rephrase... I’ve been trying to figure out at what point the doctrine of humanity stopped being a universally accepted doctrine. What the hell am I rambling on about you ask? Okay, let me try making this insane babbling more coherent.
During the Kenyan post election genocide (Yes I called it a genocide, bite me!!) I witnessed firsthand as part of the redcross team, the level of sickening, terrifying, morbid, and nauseating (I could go on and on inserting choice adjectives here but am sure you get the picture) degradation of sense and sensibilty. I watched as the value of human life was reduced to a point so low that it was incomprehensible. And I became numb, so much so that I did not get traumatized by all the gory vileness I saw.
And just like almost every other Kenyan, after the genocide, I swept it all under my mental carpet like unnecessary dust and ‘moved on’. “We came so close to being like our horrid neighbours Rwanda!!” “It is sad that it had to happen, but we’re blessed that we recovered from it before it went to far” that was the talk that was going round from every Kenyan lucky enough not to have been a part of the 1500 dead people, humans. Lucky enough not to have been exterminated like pests in this “Blooming” society we call a country. Lucky enough not to have been part of the 300,000 robbed of their jobs, livelihoods, mothers, fathers, children.... Robbed of their will to exist, let alone to their will live. After all, they are only 0.79% of the population. Unlucky statistics not worth being given the privilege of being acknowledged as human.
As time went by, even those well placed tsk tsks stopped being heard, and life continued as though what happened was just a minor fart in this well oiled machine called Kenya. Save for the compulsory “Thank God this year did not start like 2008” thrown in on 31st and the shaking of heads that accompanied it, not a murmur of what happened is heard.
As I sit here in my cosy room, beer in hand, writing to try and ease my blood tainted conscience a year down the line, I find myself more bitter and disgusted than I have ever been my entire life. At myself, and at every other Kenyan out there, because we are all nothing but petty criminals, murderers and profaners. We should all be brought to justice for murdering a country, then stringing the same country up like a marionette and playing pretend with it trying to convince ourselves that it is alive when it is clearly not.
I find myself trying not to hate because I know it is hate that got us to where we are now. But not being able to keep down the loathing that creeps up my throat like bile every time I walk down the streets of Nairobi. Trying not to wonder whether the person walking behind me was one of those who murdered his/ her neighbour in cold blood because of petty differences. Trying to convince myself to finish this post, but knowing that I’ll have to get back to it later because right now I can’t do it. My inner demons have overwhelmed me and I have to fight them, because if I don’t, just like those IDP’s (We reduced the thousands christened into one worthless abbreviation!), just like those IDP’s, if I cannot overwhelm these inner demons, then life is not worth living.
Fire on the mountain - Asa
Pot of Gold - Akon
After the vote - Kwani Trust (Kwanini series)