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Where it all began?

I’ve refrained from posting for a while now, for most part because I’m a lazy deuce but seeing as the spark of impulsion flickers yet again… Having procured most of my post-election news from the blogosphere, it occurred to me that I should reciprocate especially for the sake of those who think this is ‘spur of the moment anarchy’.
I recently received an e-mail from a friend back home in which she recounted a history of Kenyan politics as told by her pastor:
Apparently, it is a pre-colonial feud.
Raila’s (leader of opposition) father Oginga formed an alliance with Tom Mboya (one of our freedom fighters) (note both are Luos). The alliance was known as KANU and it was made in 1960 to help negotiate terms for independence. The Kikuyus suffered alot during colonial times due to living in an area with rich fertile land so the British confiscated alot of their land for their homes and farms so the Kikuyus were forced to retreat to the forests aand hence started the MAUMAU movement to fight for independence.
Oginga and Tom Mboyas efforts paid off and the colonial government made an agreement to hand the power over to him but there were still issues with the Kikuyu so Oginga agreed to step down for Kenyatta our first president (and a Kikuyu) and gave him that power and Oginga became the Vice President in 1963. The problem started when they could not agree with the form of government; Oginga wanted Socialism, Kenyatta wanted Capitalism eventually they disagreed completely. Oginga was fired and placed under house arrest and Tom Mboya was assasinated (resulting in subsequent finger-pointing) hence the feud between Luos and Kikuyus. Recent events sparked it again when 5 yearsago Raila (Oginga’s son) stepped down for Kibaki (A kikuyu and our 3rd President) and the agreement they had made before winning elections (to make Raila Prime minister after changing the constitution) was dishonoured and recently the presidential election sent every one exploding with emotions.
As for the people of Rift Valley (Nakuru Eldoret etc) they are bitter because the colonial masters took away their fertile land and since they were pastoralists and not farmers they gave the Kikuyus the land to farm on thier behalf and sent the people of Rift Valley to dry lands when the colonialists went back home after independence they gave the title dees to the Kikuyus cause they are the ones who tilled the land but the people of Rift Valley were still bitter about it but nothing was ever donee till now when yoy hear of peoples homes being burnt down and people being killed it is the Kikuyu who are being persecuted most in those areas.
There is just alot of unsetteled anxiety.
I’m not sure about the accuracy of this history, but it does bring alot into light…but is it where it all began? Before Oginga, Dedan Kimathi and all the names you learned in GHC weren’t we getting along?(relatively) Yeh, some of us came from Congo , Sudan or wherever but at the end of the day, what nationality do you claim?
This bring to mind a question I heard an international student ask an American:
Which is worth more, an African life or an American one?
His response was, hesitant(probably due to my prescence) but he got to the point that the value of life in ‘3rd world countries’ is incomparable to the same in America. I could understand his perspective as he was trying to compare the statistics of epidemic against the experience of losing a loved on to cancer.
In the same way, (I believe) we Kenyans are labelling each other with a ‘hate’ carried over a generation, which has evolved into something sinister by attaching emotion to aspects of this ‘hate’ that we relate with. Children growing up are influenced to ‘hate’ their best friend because of their background or tribal affiliation. How does this differ from racism? Sexism? Classism? Religious discrimination?
I refuse the land I love to be torn apart because of overinflated-egos and misguided passion! *Fist clenched, deep breaths, fist unclenched* We have to deal with this issue on a personal level if change is going to occur.
In the words of black_knight:
“I am a Kenyan first…”
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It’s thanksgiving and the only thing i’m thinking about is what the hell is holiday about? I heard something about Yankees and Native Americans but still, is how? I’ve run it down to a scheduled time-out from jobo or whatever stress you dealin with…only, I’m not really stressed. So now nitado?

Money or the box? I chose the box. You have won a voyage with Captain Morgan!…and thus is my scheduled time-out from…whatever it is I’m supposed to be stressed out by. Don’t get me wrong, drama niko, but really, nothing a little pint and pleasure (PP)can’t fix. I just wonder why people escalate this vibe. A jama has a job above minimum wage, good hours(jobo and chuo), a scholarship and still complains about the chuo ripping him off…PP mzee!

Wow I miss TV from kitambo, OMO pick a box, Je, huu ni ungwana…Watchin the daily show n all this rubbish isn’t bambaing me, though I really want to watch this Cobra Squad vibe. If only Kenyan TV was online…

Mad props to the TED winners btw, though I wonder just how much they will really achieve.

On an unrelated note, Does anyone know how one can watch the 7s series from the states? Supersport is bila here.

I’m caught between writing what you want to read and whatever perambulates across my subconscious…kambla nizinduke, hii ni maendeleo.

Jazz

Wawero – Wawesh

Homesick Remix – Wawesh & KG

Sisikii

I’m doing a paper on Swahili culture at the moment; yeh I know it has nothing to do with my major, but I sounded interesting. I got to thinking about how Bantu languages have evolved over the years; what kyuk must have sounded like 100 years ago…I then thought about my relationship(or lack of) with my great-grandmother. It’s sad that we can’t communicate due to the fact that I don’t speak Kimbeere, and she doesn’t speak Swa. The look of disappointment I get every time she give me her words of wisdom, go hand in hand with the feeling of guilt that I, a ‘whole Mumbeere’ cannot speak my own language. As I shun away from this encounter, i come across this:

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/69

To see this happen in my own shags cuts me deep. So now, what is there to do?

Jazz

Malaika – Harry Belafonte & Miriam Makeba

Mashairi – Ukoo Flani Mau Mau

Negative influence

Since getting a clean bill of health from my friendly neighbourhood VCT clinic, I set out to live responsibly; cutting down drinking, smoking and…fornication.

Smoking has never been a problem. One down, then things get thick. I realised I couldn’t just go cold turkey, I mean really… So after much deliberation, and several ‘last drinks’, I let go of the bottle and signed up for Sir John’s Sojourn(trademark Milonare)

5 months into the B-Train (trademark Milonare), bottle in hand, and I’m losing sight of my goal. This had something to do with my body being the temple of God and pangs of regret as I reintroduced myself to the leftovers from last night’s takeaway. Ironically, these are always followed by comforting thoughts of the things I didn’t do…or at least I think i didn’t.

Enter the new, hypercritical me, featuring: Anti-coyote ugly syndrome, non-alcoholic, non-herbalist, banjukafied, 4.0 GPA guaranteed or your money back*

I really should have gotten the warranty. But hey, there’s always the keinyeji version, works well enough, spare parts cheap and available, and does more or less the same thing…more or less. Keinyeji has always seemed to work for me (apart from river road…if I ever get my hands on that *%$#@^>!…), modest and efficient. If only Toi had frequent customer cards…

I really don’t get how monks pull this off. Celibacy is probably the hardest thing since bottling darkness (brings back mono days?), but at least i’m getting somewhere. 155 days…about. Yet again I wonder, WHY? The answer is quite simple really. Just give me some time to figure it out, n I’ll get back to you.

JazzWho is to Blame – Eric Wainaina

Paper Planes – M.I.A

On & On

What a weekend…

I’m sober for one, perfectly healthy, not at a party/club, yet I can afford to rave.

It’s quite strange; I decided to go cold turkey on pint. Given the fact that I’m not an alcoholic, and the unavailability of good alcohol to a missing mono, this isn’t such a hard thing to do.

Why did I do it then?

Picture yourself relaxing on some beach/pub/whatever does it for you, holding a nice, cold tusker.

Now take that, and switch it with a warm one. Not kawa warm, coasto warm. Between that and soberity…

I had had a cold for the last 3 weeks…3 weeks! Now I’m not a doctor, but really? Kwani I’m njeve-intolerant ama?

Then these houseparties…they’re not bad. However, advice to all party throwers: Reconsider Beerpong. It’s great as a spontaneous pass time, but when every party has a pong table, and the same jamaas (I should start a prayer group) happen to win every time…Its like having a body-shot every time you rave…

And yeh, I’m not selling blood yet.

What a day…

I think I need a coffee, Dorman’s, Café Mocha…Beautiful. Fu*cough* Starbucks. What do I have to do to get a decent Mocha? I’ve never understood how, the Mocha, an American creation, is butchered at every coffee shop I’ve been to here. Thanks God the have ‘free’ WIFI…raping my tastebuds while I watch rudge. Drinking age is 21 so “no cold tusker for you kijana” replays in my head as I prepare my keinyeji Russian coffee. Well, at least the All Blacks are kicking ass! Some other vibes have also jazzed my life: Japan’s 90-metre try, Robinson’s sprain, Lima’s Tackle, the fala in the SA team who dropped the ball less than a metre from the try line…now for Ausi v England!

MAD fun!

Jazz

On & On – Erykah Badu

Cup of Water

    As I look at my cup, I’m not wondering if it’s half empty or half full, but “that’s a really nice cup”. Maybe I’ve just lost it,  asking myself questions I can’t answer, talking about losing ‘me’…but inevitably, does it matter?

I often think “Back home, *nostalgic babble*” only to realise I’m not home, this is not a dream, life goes on. How did I live my life back home, and why am I not doing that now? Culture shock? Laziness? Sexual frustration? (lol) Fear…back to square one. So what does one do to overcome fear? Face it head-on seems like the obvious choice, but why haven’t I done that yet? Discrimination probably, on my part.

Change, why are people so opposed to it? Why am I? Yet I claim to be liberal…

“Talk about beautiful things a little bit…”

Resounding in my mind, words of Bahamadia, invoking wisdom as is:

  • Play the fool only to realise you are the fool…
  •  People are most likely to resist change when they enjoy their current state. Obvious.
  •     Long term enjoyment of states is joy. Not so obvious
  •     Joy isn’t common. Disturbing
  •     Lack of joy leads to the pursuit of happiness.
  •     Happiness is only attainable in the short term.
  •     If anything, pursue joy. As you can always forgive the one you love, what centers you regardless of your situation?

That is what brings you joy.

  •     Anything that changes your perception has either given you joy, or taken it away.
  •     There is no variation of joy. It is what it is.

If the glass is half full or half empty empty is irrelevant, its effect on  you is what counts.

Will I lose…me?

    Independence by definition is separation from others. Liberalism is independence from conformity. So then, can one who is liberal have like-minded friends? Therefore, is liberalism attainable?

This ultimately brings up the question; who am I? I guess that’s what i’m in uni for…stereotypical eh? But then again, is it conformist to go to school? Watch TV? Wear clothes? What about speaking Swa?

I ask myself, why is it I feel inclined to vibe in Swa with Kenyans in uni, whereas I barely spoke Sheng back at home? Why is it I gravitate towards dark skinned people, barely noticing lighter skinned people I met just hours ago? Is this me being racist, or insecurity? conformity even?

Some time back I asked a friend why they put on an accent every time he talked to an American, to which he replied, “I’m tired of constantly being asked to repeat myself, and if I’m from Africa.” Instantly, I remember the tens of conversations I’d had in the last few hours, all of which centred around my pet lion who I advise in his kingly reign.

It was then I realised the purpose of conformity.

*I liked the way tHiNkEr’S rOoM (and everyone else) did this so…

Jazz

Jill Scott – Long Walk

Regina Spektor – Fidelity

Erykah Badu – Didn’t Cha Know