Post by miguna on Dec 21, 2005 6:06:09 GMT 3
A WEEKLY INTERNATIONAL CONVERSATION WITH PRESIDENT KIBAKI
By MIGUNA MIGUNA* - © 19 December 2005
Dear Emilio:
This is a continuation of the conversation I was having with you last week in which I communicated to you the popular decision of the gallant people of Kenya to terminate your five-year contract effective January 21st, 2006. That conversation was suddenly interrupted by the earthquake that shook our city and caused lots of damage and security scares. It wasn’t your fault.
I did not mind at all the rough and extremely frightening shoves we both received from your specially trained personal bodyguards, elite members of the presidential escort service, a platoon from the General Service Unit (GSU) and a flotilla of well-trained, dressed, fed and armed ubiquitous internal security men. This, too, wasn’t your fault. As the chief executive of our country, you deserve all the protection and security money can buy.
No one should blame you for an earthquake whose origin even our geologists (with all their PhDs) have not been able to fully explain. They had also failed to predict it. This earthquake was certainly not like the tsunami, whose approach had been clearly foreseen by none other than your erstwhile brother, Agwambo.
It is understandable that you could have been confused about the source of the earthquake. No one can blame you entirely for this. We all know that Agwambo has been predicting all sorts of things. However, it is not completely safe to say that he had not predicted this earthquake as well. Since he prefers speaking in complicated parables, it is indeed possible that he had mentioned it.
So, Mr. President, we the people, fully understand your fears and frustrations of Agwambo’s predictions. After all, the tsunami that he had warned about nearly swept you together with all the colonial and post-colonial relics and cobwebs. You nearly lost the ship at sea. And even now, it appears to many of us that the plank that you are still standing on is very precarious and shaky, especially given the fact that you have not really reached the shore. Unless you are as good a swimmer as the Nyando Hippos, you may not survive another tumble. We pray that you make it safely to the shore.
My courage in the face of what we both thought was possibly some deranged poor soul attempting to terminate your contract illegally through force has its origins in the collective will and strength of the people. It is amazing how powerful and invincible a human being can feel when working as a messenger for the people. Although I do not expect you to fully understand or appreciate how this feeling of invincibility can transform an otherwise humble, poor and powerless person into a fox, the feelings I experienced in your presence last week were real. They were also a testament to what the collective will, vision and determination of a united people can achieve.
Therefore, we hope that you can understand and forgive our confusion when we saw you stamp your feet and heard you threaten some undisclosed punishment against Mr. Invincibility. Let us assure you, Mr. President, that invincibility did not cause the recent earthquake. Neither was it responsible for the tsunami. We do not know the identity of Mr. Invincibility. As such, we cannot rally vouch for him or her. It is possible that you know something we do not know.
But I have been asked to explain to you why the tsunami struck.
For more than 40 years (starting from colonialism), the ordinary poor person in Kenya was reduced to a beast of burden. Although it was the ordinary person that built the roads that the wabenzi class drove on, s/he never experienced the real joy of riding on those roads. Although the ordinary person dug up the soil, planted, harvested and processed sugar, s/he was never able to enjoy the sweetness of sugar. Although the ordinary person produced coffee and tea, s/he was never able to take these beverages. Although the ordinary person planted corn, s/he was rarely able to put ugali on the table.
Consistently for more than 40 years, the ordinary person worked the soil, produced goods in the factories, built mansions, constructed our roads and highways, cooked the food and made the soothing drinks. But the ordinary person was never able to enjoy them; not because s/he lacked desire and need for them. It was simply because s/he was reduced to live the life of an animal; serving and pampering the wabenzi class. The wabenzi class kept a permanent vigil over the rickety lives of the ordinary person, through a well oiled and armed forces, foreign and local intelligence.
For more than 40 years, Mr. President, the ordinary person produced music that the wabenzi class danced to, but for which the music composer and performer was neither adequately remunerated nor recognized. In stead, members of the wabenzi class ridiculed the ordinary person as lazy and only capable of singing primitive songs.
Mr. President, prior to your employment, the ordinary Kenyan had struggled for more than 40 years to remove the yoke of the wabenzi class to no avail. Every single previous attempt had been ruthlessly crashed.
Even though the people knew that you were a certified card carrying member of the wabenzi class, and that for almost 40 years, you have been part and parcel of their oppression, they had hoped that you had learnt and changed during the few years that you spent in political oblivion. It was your promises and the company you kept in 2002 that made the people believe in you.
Unlike the Bolivians who have finally managed to overthrow the wabenzi class on their own through long and treacherous struggle, the people of Kenya decided to recruit some members of the wabenzi class who had shown signs of reform. In choosing you as their torch bearer in 2002, the people of Kenya not only took a dangerous short-cut, they also bestowed on you heavy responsibilities, many of which you were probably ill-equipped and trained to handle.
As an insurance policy, the people gave you a team composed of both tested and untested reformers. And in order to keep you company, the people allowed some members of the wabenzi class who had confessed their conversion like you. This new team was supposed to ensure that all the fruits of the people’s labour were would be shared equitably, justly and honestly among the people without regard to their ethnic, religious, gender and other differences.
However, even after the tsunami struck and you have remained marooned at sea, we have seen and heard that you continue to behave as if you do not know why your ship capsized. Even as you cling to the rickety plank of wood at sea, you persist in issuing threats, stamping your feet and throwing your surviving crew into the water. You continue to behave as if you are the captain of Noah’s Ark.
The people have asked me to tell you that they consider your behaviour dangerous for your survival. However, rather than abandon you at this most trying moment, the people will be sending a rescue boat to bring you to shore so that the hand-over ceremony can proceed without delay or interruption.
It is our hope that as soon as you get to the shore, you will begin making appropriate arrangements for the hand-over ceremony. But before then, we expect that you will continue to perform all your functions, deliver services and fulfill your responsibilities to all Kenyans without regard to creed, race, tribe, gender, age and political differences and strictly in accordance with the constitution. In so doing, we remind you to be cognizant of the aspirations, dreams and hopes of the people.
As you proceed to conduct and transact the final sets of official business on behalf of the people of Kenya, please remember the promises that you made to the people during the 2002 presidential and general elections. Also remember your brave declarations during your inauguration ceremony at Uhuru Park.
Specifically, remember your statement (and I paraphrase) “that the age of impunity, where every thing goes, is long gone…The age of roadside declarations; where rampant corruption infested every aspect of our lives; where competence and hard work had no meaning or place in our lives; where only nepotism, cronyism and corruption mattered; and where serious human rights violations and economic crimes went unpunished, would no longer be the way of life!”
We implore you to also remember all those who worked tirelessly during the campaigns, especially following your near tragic accident a few weeks before the elections. Remember Raila Amolo Odinga.
Yours truly,
MIGUNA MIGUNA (Citizen)
Main Street / Village, Kenya, Afrika
__________________________________________________________________
*The writer is a Barrister & Solicitor in Toronto, Canada
By MIGUNA MIGUNA* - © 19 December 2005
Dear Emilio:
This is a continuation of the conversation I was having with you last week in which I communicated to you the popular decision of the gallant people of Kenya to terminate your five-year contract effective January 21st, 2006. That conversation was suddenly interrupted by the earthquake that shook our city and caused lots of damage and security scares. It wasn’t your fault.
I did not mind at all the rough and extremely frightening shoves we both received from your specially trained personal bodyguards, elite members of the presidential escort service, a platoon from the General Service Unit (GSU) and a flotilla of well-trained, dressed, fed and armed ubiquitous internal security men. This, too, wasn’t your fault. As the chief executive of our country, you deserve all the protection and security money can buy.
No one should blame you for an earthquake whose origin even our geologists (with all their PhDs) have not been able to fully explain. They had also failed to predict it. This earthquake was certainly not like the tsunami, whose approach had been clearly foreseen by none other than your erstwhile brother, Agwambo.
It is understandable that you could have been confused about the source of the earthquake. No one can blame you entirely for this. We all know that Agwambo has been predicting all sorts of things. However, it is not completely safe to say that he had not predicted this earthquake as well. Since he prefers speaking in complicated parables, it is indeed possible that he had mentioned it.
So, Mr. President, we the people, fully understand your fears and frustrations of Agwambo’s predictions. After all, the tsunami that he had warned about nearly swept you together with all the colonial and post-colonial relics and cobwebs. You nearly lost the ship at sea. And even now, it appears to many of us that the plank that you are still standing on is very precarious and shaky, especially given the fact that you have not really reached the shore. Unless you are as good a swimmer as the Nyando Hippos, you may not survive another tumble. We pray that you make it safely to the shore.
My courage in the face of what we both thought was possibly some deranged poor soul attempting to terminate your contract illegally through force has its origins in the collective will and strength of the people. It is amazing how powerful and invincible a human being can feel when working as a messenger for the people. Although I do not expect you to fully understand or appreciate how this feeling of invincibility can transform an otherwise humble, poor and powerless person into a fox, the feelings I experienced in your presence last week were real. They were also a testament to what the collective will, vision and determination of a united people can achieve.
Therefore, we hope that you can understand and forgive our confusion when we saw you stamp your feet and heard you threaten some undisclosed punishment against Mr. Invincibility. Let us assure you, Mr. President, that invincibility did not cause the recent earthquake. Neither was it responsible for the tsunami. We do not know the identity of Mr. Invincibility. As such, we cannot rally vouch for him or her. It is possible that you know something we do not know.
But I have been asked to explain to you why the tsunami struck.
For more than 40 years (starting from colonialism), the ordinary poor person in Kenya was reduced to a beast of burden. Although it was the ordinary person that built the roads that the wabenzi class drove on, s/he never experienced the real joy of riding on those roads. Although the ordinary person dug up the soil, planted, harvested and processed sugar, s/he was never able to enjoy the sweetness of sugar. Although the ordinary person produced coffee and tea, s/he was never able to take these beverages. Although the ordinary person planted corn, s/he was rarely able to put ugali on the table.
Consistently for more than 40 years, the ordinary person worked the soil, produced goods in the factories, built mansions, constructed our roads and highways, cooked the food and made the soothing drinks. But the ordinary person was never able to enjoy them; not because s/he lacked desire and need for them. It was simply because s/he was reduced to live the life of an animal; serving and pampering the wabenzi class. The wabenzi class kept a permanent vigil over the rickety lives of the ordinary person, through a well oiled and armed forces, foreign and local intelligence.
For more than 40 years, Mr. President, the ordinary person produced music that the wabenzi class danced to, but for which the music composer and performer was neither adequately remunerated nor recognized. In stead, members of the wabenzi class ridiculed the ordinary person as lazy and only capable of singing primitive songs.
Mr. President, prior to your employment, the ordinary Kenyan had struggled for more than 40 years to remove the yoke of the wabenzi class to no avail. Every single previous attempt had been ruthlessly crashed.
Even though the people knew that you were a certified card carrying member of the wabenzi class, and that for almost 40 years, you have been part and parcel of their oppression, they had hoped that you had learnt and changed during the few years that you spent in political oblivion. It was your promises and the company you kept in 2002 that made the people believe in you.
Unlike the Bolivians who have finally managed to overthrow the wabenzi class on their own through long and treacherous struggle, the people of Kenya decided to recruit some members of the wabenzi class who had shown signs of reform. In choosing you as their torch bearer in 2002, the people of Kenya not only took a dangerous short-cut, they also bestowed on you heavy responsibilities, many of which you were probably ill-equipped and trained to handle.
As an insurance policy, the people gave you a team composed of both tested and untested reformers. And in order to keep you company, the people allowed some members of the wabenzi class who had confessed their conversion like you. This new team was supposed to ensure that all the fruits of the people’s labour were would be shared equitably, justly and honestly among the people without regard to their ethnic, religious, gender and other differences.
However, even after the tsunami struck and you have remained marooned at sea, we have seen and heard that you continue to behave as if you do not know why your ship capsized. Even as you cling to the rickety plank of wood at sea, you persist in issuing threats, stamping your feet and throwing your surviving crew into the water. You continue to behave as if you are the captain of Noah’s Ark.
The people have asked me to tell you that they consider your behaviour dangerous for your survival. However, rather than abandon you at this most trying moment, the people will be sending a rescue boat to bring you to shore so that the hand-over ceremony can proceed without delay or interruption.
It is our hope that as soon as you get to the shore, you will begin making appropriate arrangements for the hand-over ceremony. But before then, we expect that you will continue to perform all your functions, deliver services and fulfill your responsibilities to all Kenyans without regard to creed, race, tribe, gender, age and political differences and strictly in accordance with the constitution. In so doing, we remind you to be cognizant of the aspirations, dreams and hopes of the people.
As you proceed to conduct and transact the final sets of official business on behalf of the people of Kenya, please remember the promises that you made to the people during the 2002 presidential and general elections. Also remember your brave declarations during your inauguration ceremony at Uhuru Park.
Specifically, remember your statement (and I paraphrase) “that the age of impunity, where every thing goes, is long gone…The age of roadside declarations; where rampant corruption infested every aspect of our lives; where competence and hard work had no meaning or place in our lives; where only nepotism, cronyism and corruption mattered; and where serious human rights violations and economic crimes went unpunished, would no longer be the way of life!”
We implore you to also remember all those who worked tirelessly during the campaigns, especially following your near tragic accident a few weeks before the elections. Remember Raila Amolo Odinga.
Yours truly,
MIGUNA MIGUNA (Citizen)
Main Street / Village, Kenya, Afrika
__________________________________________________________________
*The writer is a Barrister & Solicitor in Toronto, Canada