Our soul is dead.

Bob Marley, it is attributed by some, said that money can't buy you life. Politicians seem it can buy everything else, including honour. I can't seem to find in Kenya a credible argument against that presumption because I am watching things play out that would have been anathema even ten years ago, the go-go days of the Kibaki Era.

Seven years ago very bad things happened in Kenya because of a presidential election count that went awry, to put it very, very kindly. The reverberations of those bad things are still being felt today. The line between the bad, bad things and the Money-buys-Everything-but-Life philosophy goes through the International Criminal Court, where Kenya's soul went to die. You would thnk that the deaths of thousands of Kenyans because of a election would have killed Kenya's soul. You would be wrong.

You would think that when hundreds of Kenyans are mutilated, maimed, disfigured and gang raped, that when hundreds of thousands are pushed from their homes in the dead of night, dispossessed even of their underpants, watching as the last living thing on their farms is set on fire, including the bedbugs and the cockroaches - you would think all this would have killed Kenya's soul. You would be absolutely, tragically wrong.

It is, I am sad to report, the small, obscure indignities in faraway places that killed the soul of our nation. There was no fanfare to it. There was little publicity. Indeed, there are some who would deny that our soul is dead. They either are responsible for this murder - or they do not know where to look for proof.

I do not care whether the Ocampo Six were guilty or not. I do not care whether Ruto & Sang are guilty or not. I care very much that tens of thousands of Kenyans were violently dispossessed of their properties and essentially forbidden, including by their very own government, from ever reclaiming their property. The ones who did the dispossessing never saw the inside of a jail cell, let alone a criminal court room. There are tens of thousands of the mutilated, the maimed, the disfigured and the gang raped who must confront their attackers in silence because these are well-respected men and women of good standing in their communities. We have accepted, we have moved on. The "two communities" are at peace with each other.

But in that faraway court, Kenyans who bled, Kenyans who dies, Kenyans who lost everything, must watch as the big powers and the small powers play games while at home tokens - a billion here, a billion there - are strewn at their feet with casual take-it-or-leave-it arrogance. The faraway court made promises. It has kept none. It will keep none. Our soul is dead. It is not getting resurrected if the recent goings on are any indication.

It isn't enough to erase the victims from view. It isn't enough to erase the crimes against them from view. Now we are rewriting history. They say that the victor writes the story. That is surely truer and truer every day that it becomes a question of who fixed who and for how many pieces of silver. Our memories are scoffed at for their feebleness. The written record is sneered at as a fabrication. The video is one of River Road's finest productions - which isn't saying much. All those intelligence officers on the public payroll were on one side or the other of a political disagreement and they did not hear, they did not record what they purported to have heard or recorded. They are all lies!

How do we know all this? The man of God, the preacher with the silky-smooth voice, the casual misogyny, the sleek look and even sleeker Mercedes, the "congregation in America" and the mistress in Dubai - because this man and his brothers have said so. And if they have said so, so has Almighty God. And if Almighty God has said so, then your memories, your written records, your videos and your audio recordings are Satan's Lies. Yes! Our soul is dead!