There are many things that give me pleasure. A good book and a nice cup of tea. An ice-cold glass of Indian Pale Ale and a Dunhill Red Master Blend. White sand and a warm sun. The Wiggle and the stems that make it so delectable. All these give me pleasure, some more than others.
Public service does not give me pleasure, though I am honour-bound to do my duty to the best of my ability. The opportunity for self-serving self-aggrandisement has presented itself countless times, but as Fred, my senior points out, government, as the Twelve Tribes demanded, is as organised in God's name. Despite my loyalty and fealty, I have no desire to stand in the agora and declaim with authority that I am without blemish. That, Fred reminds me, is up to the Almighty Himself when he reads from the Book of Life. So I have little inclination to listen to you, sir, as you thump your arrogant chest, declaiming with great hubris, I am clean!
Public service does not give me pleasure, though I am honour-bound to do my duty to the best of my ability. The opportunity for self-serving self-aggrandisement has presented itself countless times, but as Fred, my senior points out, government, as the Twelve Tribes demanded, is as organised in God's name. Despite my loyalty and fealty, I have no desire to stand in the agora and declaim with authority that I am without blemish. That, Fred reminds me, is up to the Almighty Himself when he reads from the Book of Life. So I have little inclination to listen to you, sir, as you thump your arrogant chest, declaiming with great hubris, I am clean!
In fat, sir, I don't think I will be casting my vote for you, or any of your friends for that matter, come August 2017. I would, quite literally, be sick to my stomach to cast my vote for you. I know that you don't get it, sir. But I would definitely be nauseated if I even contemplated building up you ego any greater than it is now by a vote cast in your favour. It is such an unpalatable thought that the thought of driving a rusty nail through my foot seems like the equivalent of a shiatsu massage.
You must be curious as to why an otherwise dedicated civil servant should express himself so about you. It isn't that difficult. Do you remember when doctors got so fed up about their terms and conditions of service that they abandoned their patients to die? Do you remember when nurses did so too? How many of my fellow citizens died because you would not bend? Do you remember that three years ago 64 Kenyans were murdered in cold blood and all that you did was make more promises you never had any intention of keeping? Do remember last year when 147 fellow-citizens were murdered and one of your colleagues promised to expose the networks that were accomplices in that mass murder and that you did nothing to make him tell the truth? You are a man of words—millions of words—that you don't mean and never will.
You have perfected the art of the forked tongue, like a serpent, and the manner you slither into situations is akin to that of a slithering serpent. You have no shame, the one device that we deploy to demonstrate that a thing is good or not. You even put the harlot to shame, the way you splay yourself for the pleasure of another. I doubt you have a conscience, for there are many Kenyans who have died because of you and your millions of words.
I will keep my head down. I will earn my keep. By the grace of God I shall retire to a rest that is untroubled. I will however, never, ever listen to you. I will not endorse your bestial ways. I would rather slather myself in lard, wear sackloth, douse myself in jet fuel, drive a rusty nail through both my feet, contort myself into a car-tyre, set myself on fire and then roll myself off a cliff. That would be preferable to voting for you and accepting that your odious claim that God has endorsed your leadership. He hasn't. Stop saying that He has.
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