Moral regeneration? Fix the family.

I

When I was ten, against my better judgment, I accepted my fathers diktat and took catechism at my church. I hated the catechism tutor. She was a joyless scold who snapped every time we failed to memorise one of her pet bible verses. It was one of the most dispiriting, irreligious experiences of my life. It is a wonder I did not up and quit the faith there and then. But despite that experience, I was inculcated with certain values and mores that I still hold fast to, despite my natural rebellious inclination: thrift, honesty, hard work, fidelity, humility, love and patience.

I don't think I ever pinched my mother's coins after I was baptised, with Uncle "Casper" standing as my godfather. I always made a point of telling her - after the fact, of course - that I had taken her coins and indulged myself in some those tooth-rotting candies that cost ten cents. She appreciated my honesty so much that instead of five strokes of the cane, she only gave me four.

The germane part of this personal history is that some of the values I hold fast to were instilled in me by my parents; some others by my church - Sunday school, really - and still some others by the frightening triumvirate of Mrs Mboya, Mrs Ogolla and Ms Jane at my school. It is possible that I am not holding fast enough to them, but even if my bosses were to launch a full-fledged forensic lifestyle audit, they would indict me for sure for not fiddling with my expense account, for not fudging my performance appraisal reports and definitely, for not claiming mileage - never mind I am yet to become a proud member of the motoring classes.

When I was ten, these institutions functioned to fashion me into a somewhat respected and valued member of my community. I will ignore the troubling manner in which some of my pastors fawned over Baba Moi whenever he attended service with us; when Unzele Methusellah Unzele preached, it reaffirmed everything I thought my church should be: welcoming, kind, accommodation, honest and true. 

Ms Jane is the only one who truly terrified me; Mrs Mboya only when she was at the end of her tether because of a natural mulishness regarding certain requirements; Mrs Ogolla the least of all because her massive hands were so spongy that when she slapped you on your back she didn't so much as cause you pain as drive the wind from your lungs. I loved them dearly and I miss the many moments when they taught me valuable life lessons.

II

Nowadays, the church - not mine, though - is not so much a market as a tenderpreneur's brothel with everyone, from the Bishop to the pickpocket lurking in the second-to-last pew, with their hand in someone's pocket. I will resist this terrible urge to demonstrate how that indictment mirrors the "prayer" rallies that have confirmed the sullied nature of the church. Schools have become dens of violence and vice, teachers too overworked to do for children what Mrs Ogolla, Mrs Mboya and Ms Jane did for me.

But it's the changes in the family and home that have had the most profound effect on an individual's moral compass. Most two-parent families are two-income families, with both parents working outside the home. They must compete against other two-parent families. Their children see them only briefly in the morning or in the evening; weekends and family holidays do not seem to make up for this. Unless parents are willing to part with a large share of their double-income, the chances that they will employ a qualified helper who, if not exactly love their children, will not resent them enough to sabotage their moral growth are slim. Couple with unsupervised hours in front of one kind of screen or another from which "entertainment" of doubtful value will be blasted at them, it is a wonder that not more children are getting arrested in bars or nightclubs.

If you want to regenerate the moral values of this nation, fix the family. Make it easier for parents to spend quality time with their children and in the institutions that their children come into contact with on a regular basis: the church and the school. We can attempt to censor the fare available to children, but if the parents are unavailable to their children to remind them what is right and what is not and to patiently explain the difference between the two, all is lost. Even in single-parent homes, the parent must have the opportunity to raise their child. But if you force parents into moral compromises on even mundane matters of little fiscal consequence, unless they have an iron constitution, sooner or later they will inculcate the art of moral relativism and their children will have the moral elasticity of Lucifer. Moral regeneration? Fix the family, fix the nation.