Steve Biko said, “…You are on your own…” I took it for a history class.
I think we are blessed to be in a country with the finest minds in the world, only dramatic. Which is sad because the dramatic part overwhelms the fineness part. If your mind is more fine than dramatic (of course it is), then you have realized that Kenya is taking the right steps towards implementing all its crystal-clear policies. Only that they are implemented at the wrong time. Anyway, we are in a free country, and the lockdown has been lifted. This July fits in the summer of 2020, so, go to the finest gazebos in Nairobi and rethink about the drama and the fine part of you. There will be a Nganya at Bluepost, with loud music and tout who exists from the window to cruise you to the suburbs of the city.
Do you remember the days when we registered the first positive case of COVID 19? Before that, we were loitering around with our government whispering to all streets that could hear how ready we were to fight the disease. We were not to let tension engulf us, after all, the ministry was busy preparing for all support that the citizens needed should the novel coronavirus invade our territory. The BBI reggae was seemingly sinking, its tone slowly dying from the mouths of our leaders. The county governments started waking up from their deep slumber, and pulled up their socks, just a little bit to buy chlorine and sanitizers. For instance, Nyeri Governor allegedly spent one million from the taxpayers’ money to brand the sanitizers his county had received as donations. I think is a good characteristic of a good leader if you know what selfish marketing strategies mean.
While some people advocated for an immediate lockdown after the first case, the government reassured us that our safety and medical health was guaranteed. Our state-of-the-art health facilities were so ready to get us through it all. Like the African chameleon, history has pegged on us, measures to stop international flights, restrict movement, and take mass precautions against the spread of the disease were slothfully embraced. We took to twitter, just like we always have, barked like the caged dogs we are not and went further to donate the money we had for the coronavirus emergency kitty. After all, what are good citizens for? Plus, the doctors needed four million for tea. And the C.S needed to print the reports using a Malaysian printer.
When things started getting sour, and that the twig our government hanged on was becoming too feeble to depend on, a curfew was put in place to slow down the movement of people. Like the virus would spread at night, the curfew was enforced more than necessary precautions were. Some of our elite forces, like some wise but short of sanity police officers, beat up our mothers and fathers for being in the streets past the curfew time. And like always, mums and dads were late in the streets to pay taxes and have them police officers paid. The less dramatic Kenyans knew it was the right measure, only implemented the wrong time and often in the wrong way.
The virus, not caring about the curfew, took to its heels and spread like bushfire. From the outskirts of Nairobi to the populated slums. From within to beyond borders and vice versa. Our good doctors kept doing what they can best do. Our police officers became more aggressive towards playing their role, and like the good Kenyans we are, we stopped our businesses and started drinking porridge from our last savings. All the same, the ministry and its partners kept drinking imported tea alongside expensive mandazi and we continued donating for the same.
The senate of the main control realized that the virus was wearing a night-vision lens and decided to enforce a partial lockdown since the curfew was not enough. Movement in and out of the heavily affected counties was restricted and officers with brandish AKs were stationed at the barriers. Even in slums like Eastleigh, where the virus had found itself an excellent breeding ground, movement in and out would cost you an arm. People in the locked places ate their stock to exhaustion, and inadequacy came ceremoniously without knocking the door. After barking about inadequate food, the good Kenyans we are donated the little we could, muttered in our sleep, took to twitter, and then went quiet because the senate at the control has the final say. And their final say is our say. And just like before, these were perfectly the perfect measures, only done when it was seemingly too late.
Our economy went down, like a Naivasha donkey that can’t take up more loads on its back, our wealth depreciated at small- and large-scale levels, and our businesses nosedived (as if they always thrived). We partly forgot about the plight of our own country and donated flowers to the UK (our colonizer) for we felt they were badly affected than we were. But we did not have enough funds to evacuate our siblings who were suffering in other countries, the only fuel we could afford was to fly flowers to London. We locked our borders after the virus had settled within, started fabricating masks locally, and finally, we took tea so we can properly eye the 2022 politics. The ruling party started whipping some of its members off their commentarial seats. The whipped few took to twitter and consoled their hearts. And the controversial BBI started raising its ugly head again. Not even the virus had good strings to stop the lyrics of its essence.
Our fellows from Kirinyaga county thought their boss was leading them to Hade and so they decided to bark to the senate. They spent nights consolidating evidence against their boss and finally presented it to the senate. From gross fund misappropriation, disrespect for the MCA’s, and tender malpractices, the allegations went on. The wisest and most impartial hands took the case and scrutinized it with absolute keenness, and just like since time immemorial, justice was served for the Kirinyaga people. The allegations against the boss were found not to be compelled by the law. The investigation was to continue, the meaning of the word gross mismanagement was to be revised, and the Chief finance officer in the county was to carry the cross for any fund-related allegation. Although some allegations were proved, they were too weak to result in impeachment. The committee was therefore praised for its universal impartiality and hard work.
Cases escalated, and fears of poor health elevated. A procedure of how to take care of a sick person from home was given and we anticipated what was coming. Some of us stopped listening to the Coronavirus updates and went ahead to make a cloze text from the daily speech made by C.S Mutahi. Hotels started opening because people were getting hungrier and the emergency kitty was quickly evaporating. The curfew was loosed and politics were given the front seat in the hall. After all, Kenya without politics is like music without a tone, you can never dance to it.
Now, we have seen we cannot survive under the restrictions anymore. Even when the spread of the virus is at its hallmark, we have gone ahead to implement the right measures, just at the wrong time. The county lockdown has been lifted so coronavirus can freely travel across Kenya. Please don’t misbehave because if you do, we will have our cities closed again and COVID-19 politely asked to leave. Our churches have been opened even though only 13-58 years of age are allowed to see the church door. If they get exposed or sick while worshipping and go back home, we hope their faith will save their children and the aged from getting infected.
I was riding on a motorbike with a stereo system that makes you feel like the Ghostrider in Honduras. The president’s speech, or let us say, bazuu’s speech caught up with me on the central corner that leads to William Holden Wildlife Foundation. We stopped for a while so we can carefully hear his excellency say the words. A Luo man called someone who I thought is his wife and promised to come home with a sack of maize flour. And just like before, we rushed to twitter to celebrate a war not won.
Take it easy, the government is ready to fight the disease. But this time, may the best immune system win.