(2012)
KSHS. 200,000/= SEAT? NOT AGAIN!
The Political Roots Of Corruption.
You might hate me for saying this but I am sincerely a
proud Kenyan. Moreover, I respect and know the constitution (especially the current
one) inside out and have a carbon copy of all the rights that the document
provides for me to enjoy. And being a Kenyan citizen by birth and a proud one
whatsoever, the august constitution gives me the right of participating in
whatever affects my country either socially, economically and most important
politically.
Having surpassed the 18 year minimum age to vie for a
political position from my area of registration as Kenyan, the most enviable
thing I currently think of is being the local Member of Parliament. Though not
sufficiently eligible to run for this to die for post, I think I am eloquent
enough to woo those voters to my side. And when I win, I will go global in the
news for a month! Let’s take that a son of a peasant farmer like me
miraculously wins (Mungu saidia), I
will then be mining gold as these grey-haired and potbellied men currently do.
After being announced the winner and sworn in by some
speaker in parliament, I will earn the respects of the voters who had spit ‘wishes
of successes’ on my face and also will automatically qualify to be picked by
anybody as their leader. I can even be declared as the cultural headman of the
elders. In that position, I have the powers to discipline even the eldest
member of the elders in case he misbehaves. So you can imagine me, barely 25,
ordering a 90 year old man to kneel in front of me as he bitterly begs for
forgiveness and I am there with my walking stick in hand ready to cane him! God
forbid. Let’s not even go there.
For instance in my area of representation, most of the
time I will be the chairperson of any legal association with the most adorable
being the multimillion shillings C.D.F. chairmanship. Though I might not really
know what comes of this position, the old men with neatly ironed suits always
exchange fist-blows and kicks during committee membership elections. I often hear
them utter some things like “this is our time to eat”. I figure that out and
then use my ‘akili ya kuzaliwa’ to
demystify what ‘eat’ means. So then if the ‘members’ like those swear never to
leave the office even at gunpoint after being voted out, how about the chair
himself? I am sure he is not eating but consuming.
On my first day in the ‘house’, I will be given a rough
figure of what my account will be reading when we are about to usher in the new
month. If I am not satisfied with it, I confer with those colleagues of mine
who title themselves ‘learned friends’ as I know as usual they will not let me
down. After that I look for my back-up which happens to be the seasoned
grey-bearded backbenchers. These ones I know will not wait to be asked twice.
They will tap me on the shoulder and I am sure I will be taking my first bottle
of champagne that evening (courtesy of them) just for that long awaited idea. I
table my idea (now bill) the next day and within the next two weeks I will be
expecting three times the figure that was initially there! If you poke your
long nose into the ‘settled’ issue, I send my friend to threaten you to bring
the motion to the floor of the house for debate. No matter who you are, you shy
away like a frightened female dog, tail between the hind legs and never think
of it again because you understand the risks you will be taking.
If I am appointed a Minister, I will of course at the
very day be given my own office and the already fat figure will be reviewed for
the better. And since I fear that my bank account might ‘overflow’, I establish
another one overseas and make sure it is located in one of the G8’s. Good. In
the office I will be relaxing myself on an expensive leather chair from morning
to evening because most of the work is done by my assistant and my P.S. Since I
have my own body guards around, nobody will gain access to me.
If you come to
my office without an appointment, even if you are my twin brother, be sure to
be whisked away, feet hanging high above the ground to a place you least
expected. I take this idle time to gazette some fake multibillion contracts to
be financed by the treasury through my ministry. Because I am the minister, the
authority to allocate contracts is vested on me. So over 200 companies qualify
and I have to allocate the ‘contract’ to one. I lean back on my seat and sigh a
bit. Then I start thinking of my foreign account seize that opportunity and use
my ‘tactics’ to fill it with the millions it deserves!
Now I am the boss and two years down the line my shirts
can’t fit me anymore. Day in day out I have to send my workers to look for
bigger shirts for me to cover my everyday protruding tummy. At the course of my
campaign period, I use to look for the cheapest hotel in town in case I was
late and missed the bus. These days I have my driver and my fuel guzzler waiting
for me at the parking as I have dinner at my now favorite five-star hotel. I
get to the car and I am driven to the bar of my choice for some ‘hot drinks’
with friends as my driver waits in the car not knowing what time I will appear.
I come out at the wee hours of the night with my chips-funga and head straight for my hotel room. I don’t go home to
my Runda bungalow because the wife is there.
Furthermore, I fly for a vacation overseas and tell my
‘employer’ that I am on official duty abroad. Of course all my expenses will be
catered for by I don’t know who. I then make sure that I harvest something out
of the trip to store in my foreign account. If the opposition side of my
political career threaten to subject me to a ‘vote of no confidence motion’ in
the house, my secret fat account will come in handy and the next day they are
holding political rallies across the country hailing the honorable me!
Then the doctors who are under my ministry threaten to
go o a strike and I give them a deaf ear. Since they are united together for
one course, they will be strengthened even better by what they are demanding
for; more money. When they shout slogans and head to my office, I call for
enough security from my ‘colleague’ in the other ministry and lock myself in my
office in wait for the men with ‘red heads’. Before they reach my office gate,
the peaceful doctors are descended on with rungus
and teargas as I watch through my 9th floor office window. Tomorrow
I tell my secretary to send an e-mail to my ‘employer’ telling ‘her’ of my
emergency trip upcountry and say he doesn’t know when I should be coming. After
that I book a flight to Mombasa
and merry myself at the beach for weeks. I would not really care about the
medics’ strike because it doesn’t affect me whatsoever. I, my wife and my kids
are medically insured and in case of a minor illness, I take them to one of
those expensive private hospitals in town. Guess who pays for all the expenses?
My ever expanding account somewhere in Britain !
Still on the doctors’ matter, if they take heart and go
on with the strike, I come out from my ‘emergency trip’ and promise them
something. They of course will not yield to my empty promises and insist on
holding discussions with me. Hearing of this, I smile and puff my cigarette as
I spin around on a 45,000/= chair. Immediately, the smile fades away, the cigar
I was holding drops and I am up on my feet angrily asking myself how an
honorable man like me could seat on a chair that cheap. Again I realize that I
need a laptop and not a P.C in on my working desk.
After some time of thinking,
I bit my lower lip and nod my head as if I had arrived at a solution. I then
call all my ‘men enough’ backbenchers for an urgent meeting. We arrange
ourselves efficiently enough as if headed for war and on Tuesday 9.00A.M, at
the floor of the house, the speaker announces that soon me and my fellow
members will be sitting on a 200,000/= chair with a laptop on each! Of course
that is not enough; my laptop will be connected to the internet! Just not to
contradict my colleague M. Sonko, I will be snoring and passing wind at my own
pleasure when I get bored with debates. When I am exhausted sleeping, I google
and chat on facebook with my friends in Britain ! What a fun!
This calls for a party with my colleagues. We party
ourselves for several days and the doctors’ issue is not even in my schedule. I
tell them to wait for ‘some days’ before we could meet again. Please don’t you
ask me who will be buying me this ‘cheap’ seat; The one who voted for me and
now lives in Kibera having sleepless nights fist-fighting with mosquitoes is
going to take responsibility of that! I know you are now boiling with rage and
regretting why you voted me in. But I am very sorry because this is just part
of the ‘small’ things I need in order to serve you better. But if you are
thinking of never voting for me again, you are mistaken. Why should you forget
that easily about my secret foreign account? Am sorry to say so but that automatically
is equivalent to my votes! And that is democracy.
This is exactly how those mheshimiwas of ours operate. How painful really. Kenyans let’s
please think big and see things in three dimension before sending wolves and
hyenas back to that honorable house in city. Good day.
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