The Demolitions Depublic of Denya

Please welcome the new republic in Africa with a befitting round of applause. A standing ovation should be in order too. Thank you.

The mutant of the Democratic Republic of Kenya, DDD as it is popularly known locally, has gone viral and in obedience to its fore name, it’s doing all the necessary and unnecessary demolition of houses, homes, and souls too. It’s their motto, more less their vision to ensure every little abode erected in suspect places is flattened with the powerful trunk of diesel-powered earth-movers.

The new nation will have a new president next year and the leader may as well not have a place to live because the State House may have been demolished by then.

In its Vision 2030, DDD, expects its citizens to have developed wings and more so build nests on top of trees by that year. Many others would be expected to endlessly fly around the world as the atmosphere will be their only abode.

The country is known to mutate and in line with this duty other mutants expected to come to life in the near future are Retirees for Raila Revolution, (RRR), Uhuru to Usurp power in Unison (UUU), Hague Hungry for Honey (HHH) and some few others. The later is thought to be pregnant with Ocampo Ornate Obduracy (OOO). All these are following the footsteps of the successful emergence and demise of the lead mutant KKK early this year. Though it died from eating itself after wholly consuming Kenya in obedience to its motto Kula Kenya Kabisa, its diehards say it reached the end of its life span.

The house-demolition came hot on the heels of another that has received global praise; the Operation Demolish Al Shabaab, in fairer words, Operation Linda Nchi, has gained lots of thumbs up at home and away as the terrorist group continues to receive heavy bombardments. However, the latest has attracted countable smiles. Not everyone has been excited by it and the trauma accompanying it stole the little sympathy from the people’s hearts. Now it has transformed to pure hatred towards the government, the estranged home destroyers and some menial county council with a boring name, Mavoko.

After these ongoing homes destruction, questions as to why the government is not pulling down skyscrapers peeping into the State House-a more important entity in the country than airports and air bases-would definitely arise.  Kenyans led by such big mouths like Okiya Omtata may lead protests centred on asking for the demolition of tall buildings such as those in Upper Hill, Nyayo House, farther KICC, and those other blue-chip skywards as I&M, Lonrho etc illegally ‘seeing’ the president’s house. You know, these may cause a serious scare to the head of state security much more than those shanties milled around airports, army-ports or such. Okiya may think and say: When will we see Nyayo House coming down like the Tower of Babel? By the way, when should we expect it to come down? Maybe when an earth-mover with an elongated trunk is invented so that it can reach the tip of the House before knocking it down floor by floor. Maybe.

'Mbrrrr' Sio Mbusi Hapa It’s Money

Mbrrrr is the word here; it's the word that everyone speaketh. In emphasis they mispronounce it and in doing so brings out that sound of Mbusi-that Kenyan radio presenter known for his word jocular and ‘hakuna mbrrrr’ which, according to him means no trouble-as in another way of saying Hakuna Matata.

Not in Ethiopia though. The word (m)brrr means something else. Something good. Anything life. Anything money. When you say that anyone with apt hearing sense definitely looks up in expectation of Ethiopian money-Birr-hugging the atmosphere. You know Birr is their fuel of life just like the sweet Kenyan shilling or American Dollar. So (m)birr is not a word to joke about here unless you are hawking, which might be a novel thing because it’s very rare in the streets. There’s no dawa ya mende 50 birr*5, or handukachif 1 birr or such money-minting business in this African city-Addis Ababa. This is a serious city with serious people-though I hear at night it turns its silver lining to a corrosive coating where prostitutes take over this cold city. 

Nonetheless, daytime it’s a wonderful place to live in but only if you learn to speak faster the popular language here-birr. Woe unto you if your only claim to fame is that you speak fluent Swahili which make the likes of Qfm’s Rashid Abdala shiver. That Rashid language is as useless as it’s raw here so your fame will be equally nought. You may try your broken English though because you’ll find a good home here. AmhaRic is the national language and that R, oh my, is like it opens a floodgate of R. The letter is emphasized in every worrrd. Everrrything they sayr herer hasr an R everrywhererr. 

If you are planning to shift base to herer you betterrr starrrt doing a goodr sessionr of Amharic in oner of the colleges in townr, if there is any. Kenyans, by the way, should learn Amharic, it’s one of the most spoken languages in Eastern Africa. You know it’s spoken by over 80 million East Africans who don’t care how fluent your Queen English is or how your Arabic-born Swahili sounds.

So when you’re subscribing for that French, Germany or Chinese class please think Amharic too. You don’t won’t 80 million people to gossip about you when you are with them. Do you?

Kenya’s XXX (X-Police, X-Bonoko, X-Kitu Kidogo)

Kenya’s police are back with a bang. Baaaang! They are here again. The people who instead of shoo...show...ing criminals the right way to court they often feed their bodies with bullets before collecting “rounds of ammunition” besides them. They are back though.One clap for them for redefining our table menus on their comeback. You know, now they can serve you a raw human brain. Pheeeeew! They are not even asking you to clean your good hands before dipping them in the brainy-plate but letting the gun-butt caress your head as your savour-or-whatever it. That man on TV said. 

Thank goodness.They have really gone ahead of the local eating culture. Don’t they deserve a real stomp that will make Kirk Franklin’s one insignificant for bringing a good relationship between the gun, brain and eating?  

Back to the touchy ongoing debate around the mind-boggling revelations by local TV, KTN, labelled ‘The Untouchables’ concerning the mis(behaviour) of the enforcers of law and order in as far as drugs are (peddled, consumed, sold)concerned.  An upright man-or so it seemed in the clip-said he was told to do a vulture-like act by being asked by the police to “kula hiyo ubongo Swahili for eat that brain” belonging to a bludgeoned lifeless friend, a police officer himself who was off duty.

Those who did so should be axed, not literally, or Xed if they must remain in the Force. And the police commissioner should, by now, have apologised to Kenyans for his men’s carnivorous tendency. Plus, of course, for making many nauseate and unnecessarily puke when that clip came fore.

What of those Bonokos ever cuddling gunned bodies? The police might be involved secretly too according to the Bonoko-guy pare Ngara. For starters, bonoko ni bunduki fake (a toy gun)-those ever found next to gun-ridden bodies of suspected carjackers, robbers, mungiki-suspects etc. They are ever suspects but never given a chance to confirm or deny if they are truly what they are thought-of. Real bullets find good way into them before they raise ‘their toys’ or placed next to them seconds later-ask Mr Bonoko for more info.

Those police officers who fear toy pistols or place them next to lifeless bodies, whichever comes first or last, should be axed or Xed if they must remain in the Force.

Finally, their fodder, their life, their oxygen, their job, their bribe...their gitu gidogo their...Can’t we order them to let go or else we will not pay taxes so they don’t get salaries? We can’t you know that. We may X-rate them, the Traffic Police, and if you can’t, give them fake notes like their fake bonokos. At your own risk, of course. 

Whose Sycophant are You?

If there’s another more fertile ground for the growth of sycophancy and its children across the globe than Kenya, then that place must be really inhaling and exhaling sycophants instead of oxygen. You know Kenya, in addition to its wealth of long-distance runners, the country also floats in another kind of richness; career-sycophants.

And this lot is not the kind which burns calories chasing another athlete, their calories are burnt up within their jaws by their ever vibrating tongue. This organ empties tanks of energy flattering the he/she who places a meal on their tables. And it does it perfectly to the extent even in the august house like a national parliament, it’s so spirited it refuses to hear what the mind sayeth to it to say.

When the meal-giver is accused of wrong-doing this lot rises up in lethal arms daring the accusers to go ahead with their dirt-smearing and face dire consequences. When they are seemingly defeated or headed for a fix, they boast and unashamedly say “I’m a sycophant and I have no apologies to make.” It’s understandable. Sycophants, which are self-seeking, servile flatterers; fawning parasites according to the dictionary, always mute their minds and increase their mouths’ volume. Take for example, Ms Millie Odhiambo, the nominated MP. Yesterday, she was sycophanting with fervour when good MPs were trying to weed out nonsense threatening to steal sense from a vital debate surrounding the Kazi Kwa Vijana programme. The Prime Minister, Raila Odinga did well to counter falsehoods with facts and excellently keep off a scandal that was closely hovering over his head. That’s what gentlemen do.

However, the day’s sycophants, including the self-confessed one in Millie-by the way did she have to declare it publicly? Thought Kenyans already knew whose sycophant she’s-almost ruined that excellence by the PM. They did not succeed though and sobriety carried the day, as it should always.

From that brilliant moment when Youth and Sports assistant minister, Kabando wa Kabando, hit the screw on the head about parliamentary sycophants-they were already on their feet then, he said-to the dark moment when Millie accepted the screw, there came a grotesque picture about Kenyans and how sycophantic they could get. It’s undoubted that most are enslaved in their minds by those above them and factually those they see as their kings and queens. Remember one top minister who said her nudity was going public if Uhuru Kenyatta was to be kept in jail at The Hague? You remember? What of those disoriented fellas who literally murdered the national anthem when they tried singing it in a foreign land? You know them? Those too who regurgitated it (sycophancy) in parliament yesterday. 

And many others. 

So who’s that person you are so sycophantic about? Or rather, who’s that person who robbed you of your mind and now you can’t think you talk, you only talk about them. You dream about them. You worship them. They are your lifeline, without them you are dead. On top you never see any bad in them. Who’s him or her? Tell us.