Uta-do?!

Like they'd ask in the United States, "You and what army?!"

What exactly, do "they" mean by "the President should account for all his overseas visits?" It's not as if the President snuck out of the country like a truant fleeing the oppressive confines of StephJoy for the relative freedom of Kikuyu Town and its muratina dens. There is a ceremony to his departure: bemedalled, portly gentlemen of the securocracy, attended to by flunkies of unknown utility, looked upon by I-can't-believe-I'm-in-charge deputies or ministers, line up before the red carpet while he boards. He whispers into the ears of the seniormost securocrat - no doubt telling him on who to keep an eye and to report back immediately should the securocrat observe anything politically untoward.

The only departure from tradition is that he does not bound up the stairs and into the plane, the way Baba Moi used to. For a geriatric, that old fart was sprightly. Anyway, my President takes the stairs with haste but not too much haste. I always get the sense that he is hurrying to get as far away from the lot at the bottom of the stairs; they have managed to screw up his political and economic agenda that there is almost no hope that it will ever be revived.

Second, the list of his delegations is never secret; it might be controlled, but a little diligent digging and the men and women who coat-tail it to wherever the C-in-C is flying off to is never hard to find. Third, if it is the amount of money that the journey costs, again, a little diligent back-of-the-envelope calculations will give one a near-accurate guesstimate of the cost. To be honest, that day when State House fully complies with the rather naive requirements of Article 35 on access to information will be a Red Banner day; it will not happen. State House, like its mandarins will repeatedly remind you, is a very sensitive area, and they don't mean that its gonads are permanently tender to the slightest of touches.

I can sympathise with the transparency-and-accountability crowd; this happens to be a very secretive State House, but it is no more secretive than previous ones. Information is tightly controlled; when there is a leak, you can almost be sure that the leak is deliberate, a way of gauging the mood of the people before an unpopular decision is taken. In this State House, information control has Orwellian overtones because those are the only overtones State House mandarins know.

These demands for transparency or accountability are all well and good, but they are futile if they cannot be obtained by force. Making the futile demand simply exposes the weakness of the ones demanding access to that information, and reminds the people that despite constitutional progress, Kenya remains a highly, tightly policed country.

This phenomenon extends beyond State House; if you've driven past Harambee House or Parliament in recent months you will notice that a lane has been blocked on Harambee Avenue and Parliament Road. There is no explanation for this. There is no recourse to this unwarranted intrusion on the public commons. The only thing the securocrats will say is that Harambee House or Parliament is a very sensitive place.

Like some wag once asked, "Mta-do?!"