Kenya is defined by beautiful things. Bear with me. Our wildlife, even in the middle of a poaching frenzy, is beautiful. And I do not just mean the majestic elephants, the elegant giraffes, the regal lions, the lithe leopards, tigers and antelopes, or the imposing hippos and rhinos. Visit our marine parks, our nature trails and our beaches, and Kenyan wildlife is beautiful.
So too are our world-beating middle and long distance runners. How they kick butt on the international stage is a thing of beauty. We celebrate with them when they monopolise the podiums of the world and we commiserate with them when they are pipped to the finish line by new up and comers. Our flowers command the best prices at the Amsterdam Flower Auction and grace occasions on every continent. Our teas and coffees cannot be found anywhere else in the world. We are defined by beautiful things and we should be proud of this.
It has been so for a very long time. Even the 2007/2008 murder and mayhem did not alter how the world views us. The continuing ICC problems of the President and Deputy President did not either.
Until Westgate.
That was the tipping point. It was the point of no return. Terror attacks in Kenya had either targetted the United States or Israeli interests — or the poor and unknown. Westgate changed the narrative. Suddenly every hack with a press pass from the shadiest rags in the West is concerned about the deteriorating situation in Kenya. Suddenly every mzungu that is blown away inflates the statistics on the security problems Kenyan is facing. We are no longer defined by our beautiful wildlife, flowers beaches or athletes. We are defined by al Shabaab and secessionists and drug smugglers and other ugly things.
The hyenas have started to circle. Tanzania is suddenly targetting the tourists that visited Kenya. So too is South Africa. Amsterdam has suddenly found an environmental reason to question the quality and safety of our flowers. Several international organisations have suddenly discovered safer havens in the Horn of Africa for their operations. Western nations are reducing their diplomatic footprints in Kenya because of the perception of insecurity. The only bright spark is that Kenya has taken on huge international debt by selling a bond in Ireland for a price that is more attractive than other African nations have managed.
And yet we are doing precious little to restore things to the status quo ante, what was there before Westgate. We have doubled down on the stupid things that continually drive a wedge between our ambitions and our achievements. Policing continues to be mired in spectacular stupidity. Immigration control is unravelling speedily with revelations of cross-party corruption. Land reforms are stuck in the dark ages of claim and counter-claim.
Public confidence in the institutions of governance keeps dipping. Parliament is reviled; the Judiciary is increasingly losing credibility and legitimacy; and the Executive keeps shooting itself in the foot. In basic education, the Teachers' Service Commission and the Ministry are in a hell-for-leather battle with the teachers' unions, with neither covering themselves in glory but infamy. Our politicians have made us our own worst enemies and this is now reflected in the new Kenyan story.
We know what must be done to reverse things. We know we must make sacrifices. But our government seems to believe that sacrifices can only be made by the people and not their leaders. It is why the National Executive bends over backwards to mollify Senators this week, members of the national Assembly the next, governors the week after and councillors the week after that. (I refuse to call them members of county assemblies because they increasingly resemble councillors in their perfidy and avarice. I bet few of them can spell perfidy or avarice.)
If our leaders actually make sacrifices — give up the million-shilling-per-month package, give up the car-driver-bodyguard fetish, give up the gold-level health insurance, give up the genuflecting minions in their wake, and yank their hands out of the National Cookie Jar, maybe, just maybe, we will be willing to give up our privacy so that the intelligence services can listen in on our intimate phone calls.
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