On September 22, 2008, I argued in an opinion article in the Sunday Nation that Kenya’s development blueprint – popular as Vision 2030 – could turn out to be wishful thinking unless Kenyans were made to see it clearly.

I particularly tried to make a case for the need to educate young people about it so that they could appreciate their role in it for obvious reasons.

To illustrate my misgivings, I drew a parallel between how an average local youth and his or her counterpart in Singapore consumes the cell phone on public transport.

Chances are the one on a Nairobi matatu would be using his or her smart phone to upload or listen to music while the one on a Singapore bus would be transcribing computer software notes.

This, of course, is no way to comprehensively explain the development gap between Singapore, which is already a middle-income economy, and Kenya that is still dreaming.

But the ongoing public debate over which university degrees are relevant to Vision 2030 has done little to address my initial misgivings about the plan.

The general population appears ambivalent.

The prima donnas who have come out to offer their two cents worth in the media have displayed awful ignorance of the subject and unhelpful attitude, or allowed emotions to get the better of them.

Those who seem to know have given feeble and apologetic rebuttals, or kept off the controversy altogether.

Higher Education minister William Ruto, who sensationally started the debate with remarks suggesting that some degree courses were inferior to others, demonstrated why politicians should stay out of the Cabinet under the new Constitution.

As the good minister may have since discovered, it takes a little more intelligence and better communication skills to make an important policy pronouncement than to play cheap party or ethnic politics at a public rally.

Yet a case of lapse in judgment or reckless communication by one chest-thumping politician must not be used to blur the bigger picture of how Kenya plans to transform itself into a prosperous country in the next 20 years.

I can excuse university students marching to the Higher Education ministry offices at Jogoo House to vent their anger.

Not only is it their constitutional right, but Kenya’s repressive history has also taught us it is the best way to get the authority’s ear in the circumstances.

The Vision 2030 document doesn’t say that professionals in the arts and humanities have a less role to play in efforts to achieve it than those in the science and technology disciplines.

Clouded in the unreasonable fear South Africans have to makwerekweres (foreign migrant workers) are three stark reminders within Johannesburg of the country´s shameful historical episodes; the Constitution Hill, the Hector Pieterson Museum and the Apartheid Museum

Constitution Hill is an ancient fort built in the 19th century by Afrikaans in the middle of Johannesburg, initially intended as a prison for white males, but which over the years was transformed into a secretive torture chamber for holding black men and women opposed to the Apartheid regime.

David, the facility's tour guide, gives moving accounts of the humiliation meted on the anti-apartheid activists; including for instance how the women were denied any form of under-clothing which meant that the sanitary towels routinely fell off for those who couldn’t master the technique of holding them in place while walking.

Male prisoners on the other hand would be strapped on a triangular-shaped wooden frame from where lashes of the whip would be used to extract confessions on the activities of Umkhonto we Sizwe (or MK), translated as 'Spear of the Nation', the military wing of the African National Congress.

Nelson and Winnie Mandela are among former inmates at this former prison, as were many others whose only crime would have been walking on white neighbourhoods without passes.

The Hector Pierterson museum, located in Orlando west, Soweto, holds photographic reminders of the June 16, 1976 riots by school children who were protesting the use of the Afrikaan language as a mode of instructions in township schools.

Within its walls visitors interact with the raw courage that was displayed by the children, as well as the cruelty visited upon them by state agencies, all blended together to give the recipe that gave birth to the Rainbow nation.

Interviews, direct quotes and proficient skills of photography capture the moments, before and after, when the peaceful march turned into a bloody massacre of an estimated 500 people.

The Apartheid Museum goes a notch further. It traces the origin of South Africa´s liberation struggle, offers rare moments of one-on-one interviews with its leaders and depicts graphic images of the torture methods used to quash the ANC.

An array of large blown-up photographs, film footages, artefacts and text panels take visitors back in time to the 70´s and 80´s setting in the Soweto township and brings to life how the crowds dodged bullets, suffocated from tear cannisters and marched with the clenched fist to demand the release of Nelson Mandela.

In solidarity, any visitor joins the rhythm of toyi toyi, the dance of stomping feet, and spontaneously chant “Amanda" (Power), "Awethu" (Ours) to show defiance to Apartheid rule.

The museum gives particular recognition to liberation heroes who never lived to see the fruits of their sacrifice, most poignantly the iconic Bantu Steve Biko who died from injuries he incurred while in Police custody.

A large Police armoured vehicle, nicknamed “casspir“ and likened as the symbol of Police brutality during the Apartheid era, is also well preserved, standing in close proximity to dangling nooses used to hang political prisoners.

It is hard for a visitor to any of these three museums not to have a sense of comradeship with South Africa's liberation struggle. One shares the anguish and desperate thirst for freedom that the liberation heroes had.

Yet this sense of empathy quickly evaporates into disgust as one is bombarded by present-day accounts of rising xenophobia within the Rainbow Nation. Last week, a Zimbabwean was thrown off a moving train by a crowd, a Somali-owned shop was looted and gutted down and yet the official government response has been to dismiss such incidents as rumors.

Polite warning: If you are one of those people who still hold that democracy is the best system of government ever invented, you’ll probably find this blog a little offensive.

Well, like you I find the idea of a government of the people, by the people and for the people quite cool.

I have also learnt to live fairly well with the fact that in practice, good old democracy is chaotic and has too many pitfalls.

What I can’t bring myself to love particularly about Kenyan democracy is the fact that it tends to throw up on us all manner of bad things that plague society – including greedy and arrogant leaders who won’t pay tax until they raise their own pay.

And, worst of all, democracy has perpetuated a tyranny of the villagers.

Nothing illustrates the tyranny of the villagers better than the re-election of one Ali Chirau Mwakwere as Matuga MP in the Monday by-election.

Widely believed to be an infamous flop as Transport minister (from radio call-ins, newspaper reports and public rebuke by the Prime Minister) by the time a petition court nullified his election, Mwakwere went into this by-election almost a political outcast.

Lonely Figure

For much of the four months in the cold, he cut a lonely figure, shunned by some of his former colleagues in Cabinet and Parliament.

A handful of PNU party people only trooped to Mwakwere’s campaign in the later stages after it became apparent that the Matuga villagers were dancing to his tune.

So how did Mwakwere the political outcast overturn his fortunes to Mwakwere the hot property in just four months? It is because of one of those pitfalls of democracy: the majority have their way, and the villagers happen to be the majority voters in Kenya.

Democracy has put too much power in the hands of a privileged class of villagers to decide who rules us. The problem is that the villager often tends to use this power with disastrous consequences.

More than a century of formal education has certainly enlightened the village. But the ordinary villager will still cast their ballot for their tribesman, kinsman, or clansman.

With widespread poverty in rural Kenya, the school of life has also taught the man or woman in the village that it sometimes makes sense to vote with one’s stomach.

The curse of Kenyan politics, however, is that we are a nation of villagers.

Cheering on Gor Mahia has to be the latest lifestyle in Nairobi.

The green jersey of the football club named after the legendary Luo medicine man has become part of the city fashion, sported by young men and women with an attitude.

In the build-up to Gor’s floodlit match with Sofapaka on Wednesday, fans set Facebook alight with posts predicting the result or confirming their presence at Nyayo Stadium.

A Manchester United fan, apparently disappointed at the English soccer premier league giant’s recent poor show of form, wished Gor would relieve his pain.

On the pitch, the long-suffering Gor fans would be made to sit with their heart in the mouth, their team chasing shadows for much of the game.

But they still left the stadium believing this could be the year to end the trophy drought.

A hardly deserved point after a 1-1 draw meant they cling onto position two on the league table and keep their title hopes alive.

To be honest, this young Gor team is not even half as talented as my boyhood Invisibles of 1987, which went all the way to conquer Africa in the Cup Winners Cup, fondly referred to Mandela Cup.

But, more importantly, it is outscoring its more successful predecessor on the pitch as an agent of social change and ethnic integration in Kenya.

The multi-ethnic first eleven for the Wednesday match included a Kiplagat, a Makori, a Wekesa and a Nasio.

On the terraces where I sat close to a banner screaming, ‘Gor Mahia Facebook branch’, the young and fairly multi-ethnic crowd included a white man in a ‘J. Owino’ jersey and another man I had difficulty telling whether he was of Arab or Asian extraction.

There were also men in ties and women, including the damsel who made her way up in her man’s arms, holding a red rose and strutting her stuff.

Back in the day, when Gor was a symbol of Luo ethnic nationalism and foul-mouthed witchcraft-believing hooligans ruled the terraces, such fans would be at the stadium at their own risk.

The poor display on the pitch would have easily been blamed on the presence of the “women with their bad luck” or “the men in ties tying the team down”.

For now, five matches stand between Gor and the Premier League title.

A phone call from a colleague alerted me to a demonstration that had escalated into chaos… and was happening right outside Nation Centre at the centre of down town Nairobi! Of course you have to rush down and look.

Nothing like a bit of drama on a Friday afternoon! On pushing aside the knocking heads of workmates to get a glimpse of the action, your mind switches into movie mode as the picture comes into focus…

First you seek out the goodies and the baddies. But in this case it seems quite hard to tell which is which – it constantly kept switching.

The goodies are meant to be the ones in uniform with their big guns and shields – upholding civil rights and protecting property. But in this image something doesn’t appear quite right… The protestors seemed to be reacting to the aggressive stance the police are taking towards them rather than looking for violence.

Send message

Dialogue and allowing these protestors to send their message across was not on the menu and instead the pinging sound of tear gas and the haunting noise of gun shots filled the air.

However, I fully acknowledge that I may take this view because I missed the first couple of blows in the opening scenes – there may have been a reason for the police aggression… nevertheless I’m still waiting to hear a confirmation from other people, who also watched the drama unfold, as to who started the violence.

The roles, of antagonist and protagonist, switched again when I noticed that cars were starting to get smashed by the protestors. Rocks were being hurled at the police by the protestors with absolutely no regard for the cars of people who have no involvement with this situation at all! OK – so it’s maybe not the first thing you consider if you are protesting, but did we not all learn that non-violence was always more effective? Another thing was the mysterious appearance of these “rocks”.

A colleague pointed it out – where do you find rocks in the central business district of Nairobi? Ah… of course, the building sites that lined the roads. And if the “rock” is too big or is in fact a wall, the sensible thing to do is to smash it into your size of choice.

So, it appears that the police are once again upholding their moral duties by restraining from shooting at the protestors and doing all they can to try to not get drawn into a street fight. It was quite interesting watching 50 or so grown men in full combat get-up peeking around the corner of a building, the way a little child might do when waiting to shout boo at a parent they wish to scare.

Stone exchange

This stalemate was broken by the occasional rock, hurled by a protestor, when suddenly… again the roles are reversed. The police start hurling rocks back at the protestors. A woman is hit in the stone exchange and then we see an act of humanity. In a moment of lapsing individual consciousness as group think takes over – three of the protestors help the woman up and move her to a sheltered area.

It was fairly clear where ‘non-involved civilians’ (let’s call them NICs) stood in this whole affair. They were either crowding the streets in an effort to get front-row seats to the escalating entertainment or they were helping the police along by throwing the occasional rock before sprinting back behind the boys in blue for protection.

If anything, this shows you that safety was not something onlookers were that concerned about since they knew that neither side was out there to intentionally hurt them.

Watching my first protest “gone-bad” made me realise that through this whole affair and all this mêlée the only thing the protestors really put across was not a message but a few big “rocks”.

When I recently asked Philip Mwaniki, the Nation’s entertainment critic, for a quick review of the Club Galileo in Nairobi’s Westlands area, this is what he had to say: “It is upscale, but not high-end. You could say it’s patronised by upwardly mobile young professionals with about Sh5,000 to spare after paying their monthly house rent.”

Other restaurant reviews from Google effusively talked about its “charming atmosphere”, “fanciful ambience”, “welcoming décor” and “comfortable couches”.

So it was that after a long day in the newsroom last Saturday I ventured out into the Westlands nightlife to see and have a feel for myself.

Being no party animal myself, I was content to watch rather than join the men and women – many in their 20s and a few on the wrong side of 30 – do their thing on the dance floor.

In a week which started with news that some parents had gone to court to have a school allow their daughters the freedom to sport the hijab, I could hardly take my eyes off a group of five youths a few couches away.

The three women and two men struck me as people who on another day or in another place would have been in overflowing garments.

But here the women in tights and hot pants looked fairly comfortable in their skin.

The men, too, were unfettered in their sagging jeans and baggy T-shirts.

One of the women could easily have made it among the best dancers of the night.

Whether it was the acrobatic motions of the Bend Over song or the vigorous beats of Tobina, the Lingala gospel hit, she never put a foot wrong.

Afterwards the Club Galileo experience got me thinking.

A combination of factors – including a liberal Bill of Rights under the new Constitution, the government’s overzealous war on terrorism and immigration – makes it inevitable that Kenya will soon have to deal with cultural integration challenges similar to those the French or British society is currently facing. 

The challenges may take the form of a dual citizen asserting his constitutional right that a section of society considers alien or even radical, or a parent demanding that his or her child carries a religious symbol to a public school.

Luckily for us, we start from a relative position of advantage with the melting pot of the Nairobi nightlife already offering important lessons in cultural integration.

The World Food Programme reckons that Kenya is not experiencing famine.

But the agency has declared famine in Somalia catastrophic saying it requires Sh52.2 billion for effective intervention to secure more than three million people facing starvation.

According to the WFP, Kenya is facing “emergency food shortage” and high commodity prices which have gone up by 70 percent and  240 percent in Somalia.

The emergency in Kenya was caused by drought.

Drought, a prolonged period of abnormally low rainfall, can also result in famine.

But can the Kenyan situation be described as famine?

The WFP says drought is extreme, widespread scarcity that may lead to malnutrition and death through starvation.

For a condition of emergency food shortage to be classified as famine, it must be widespread and dire.

A WFP top relief official said on Monday that although the number of Kenyans in need of emergency food aid is continuing to grow, the country is not facing the threat of famine “at this moment.”

Ms Valerie Amos, the under-secretary general for humanitarian affairs,  however said there was famine in southern Somalia has led to the influx of refugees to Kenya.

The Famine Early Warning Systems Network (Fewsnet) describes the situation in Northern Kenya pastoral areas as a “food security emergency.”

The network says the next short rains are expected to begin at the end of October and food insecurity will likely deepen in the absence unless there is urgent intervention.

Besides natural causes such as rain failure, famine can be as a result of political and economic factors such as war.

Famine may also occur in a situation where food is available in the markets but at prices are too high for those in need. This was the case in the Welo Province famine of Ethiopia (1972–4), where food was available in the markets but at unaffordable rates.

According to the Fewsnet 3.5 million Kenyans suffer from food insecurity, an estimated 1.2 million people are at Emergency level and are unable to meet basic needs. An additional 2.0 million pastoralists and marginal agricultural farmers are in Crisis category while 300,000 people are Stressed.

It has not been easy being a Luo this past week.

Whichever way you turned, you met folks eager to remind you that the census results released on Tuesday showed that your tribe had since dropped to fourth on the population list behind the Kikuyu, the Luhyia and the Kalenjin.

This has also been the subject of cheap talk on FM radio.

“How could the Kalenjin overtake you after the Luhyia did the same in the last census?” one asked.

Population experts will try to give answers in the coming days.

But due to the sensitive nature of the question, they will find themselves constrained in how much detail they can offer publicly.

So I will attempt to read their minds here.

Among other things, I can see them pointing to the graves of my kinsmen who have died of complications related to HIV/Aids since 1984 when the first case was reported in Kenya.

Sad, but probably true. Don’t ask me for scientific evidence I don’t have. Neither does this justify the moronic notion that the pandemic only kills Luos.

All I know is that my own personal loss includes very close relatives and friends. And some died shortly after the spouse or boyfriend or girlfriend.

A primary school head teacher in Kisumu once told me how shocked she was to learn that half of her pupils were orphans.

In the early days of the pandemic, health experts reported high prevalence rates in the districts on our side of Nyanza in their surveys.

The reports suggested that – like everybody else – we were ill-prepared for an enemy which attacked where it hurt most and required people to defend themselves with unfamiliar weapons like condoms or abstinence.

But we appeared to be particularly defenceless for cultural reasons.

In the villages, people confused it for the Chira curse and wife inheritance helped spread the virus around.

FOOD
Suspects, lawyers, the lot: They all talk about ugali

Ugali or lack of it inevitably starts dominating conversation whenever a large gathering of Kenyans meets abroad and the situation has not been different for the journalists, lawyers, suspects, supporters and relatives spending time in The Hague.

This time, the conversation is not centred on the high price of maize flour  back home or the shortages necessitated by the drought back home. It is about lack of ugali.

Ugali seems to unite Kenyans when they are abroad.

One TV crew from Nairobi carried maize flour from home and since they are staying in an apartment the luxuries of proper Kenyan tea and real food can be enjoyed while the rest of the group survives on bread as a substitute for ugali.

Full disclosure as the courts would say... The writer traces his ancestry from western Kenya.

MEDIA
Two dozen Kenyan journalists dispatched from Nairobi
The media centre at the International Criminal Court has been turned into little Nairobi with Kiswahili the preferred lingua franca.

There are 25 journalists flown in from six media houses in Nairobi and many more crews from other media houses or reinforcements are expected in the next few days.

There are teams from Nation Media Group, The Standard Group, K24, the People, Kass TV and Royal Media from Nairobi.
The BBC has sent a crew from its Swahili service and Network Africa from London. A second team from a local London radio station has also been dispatched to The Hague for the case.

The media interest in the case is in sharp contrast to that shown in the other case involving suspects from the Democratic Republic of Congo and which has been going on for a long time at The Hague.

As an example, on Thursday morning, and with the DRC case progressing, the media centre was still dominated by journalists from Kenya and international media representatives covering the case.

A German TV documentary maker is in the Hague covering the massive interest in the Kenyan case by both Kenyan and international media.

Only two MPs? Why four months is a long time in Kenyan politics

In April when the six Ocampo suspects, Uhuru Kenyatta, William Ruto, Henry Kosgey, Francis Muthaura, Hussein Ali and Joshua Sang made their initial appearance before the ICC, they were escorted by 40 MPs who turned the area around the court into a little Kenyan parliament.

At that time, the National Anthem was sung by the MPs who waved miniature Kenyan flags and some wore T-shirts in the national colours to show their patriotism.

This time, the three suspects who are facing confirmation of charges hearings have been escorted by two MPs, Charles Keter and Zakayo Cheruiyot, who are more muted this time round.

There has been no singing of the National Anthem outside the court and the two men who carried placards denouncing the ICC at that time are mysteriously absent.

***
For the average Dutch whose city, The Hague, is hosting the court considering whether to commit the six Kenyan post-election violence suspects to full trial, events happening around them are strange.

For the better part of this month, Kenyans have been treated to a pressure-cooker referendum campaign with fisticuffs reported between supporters of the Greens and the Reds in some areas.

But the last leg of the campaign is evolving into a fairly light-hearted affair as the rival camps lock horns in the political version of ‘Mchongoano’, the hilarious Kenyan art form in which contestants try to outwit each other with words, not fists.

Americans call it ‘Yo Momma’ jokes.

Bifwoli Wakoli, the lands assistant minister who has publicly played clown a few times in the past, recently tickled a crowd in Eldoret when he wondered: “which man would want to marry me?”

That was in response to allegations by the ‘No’ campaign that the Proposed Constitution allows same-sex marriages.

Former president Moi, too, has given a good account of himself with quite some sharp tongue on the campaign platform.

Last week, Moi retorted to the popular reference to his former political allies as “Moi orphans” by questioning the wisdom of doing so as if “I am dead”.

Big Show

Well, all this has just been part of the curtain-raiser.

The big show is the clash of the presidents, and it is as mouthwatering as it can probably get.

It started on Tuesday when President Kibaki uncharacteristically gave his predecessor a tongue lashing while addressing a ‘Yes’ rally.

In typical casual Kibakispeak, the President aimed a jibe at “Wazee wengine (some old men)” moving around “wakisema katiba ni mbaya (claiming the Proposed Constitution is bad)”.

He rubbed it in by terming Moi’s behaviour “a shame” and sought to finish the former president off by suggesting that he (Moi) “deserved sympathy”.

If Kibaki appeared to land a heavy punch, he certainly fell short of a TKO.

Today, Moi is still in a fighting mood poking some fun of his own at President Kibaki as having failed to deliver on his lofty 2002 campaign promise to give Kenyans a new constitution within 100 days of assuming power.

The excursion by 42 Nation Media Group employees to scale Mt Kilimanjaro entered the final and hardest stretch Tuesday morning.

The team—which is hoping to raise at least Sh60 million to be invested in several famine eradication projects countrywide—spent spent their Monday night at Barranco Camp, over 4500 metres above sea level before embarking on the most treacherous climb through Barranco cliffs to Karanga camp.

At Barranco, temperatures have fallen below zero degrees celcius and most of the climbers are complaining of altitude sickness.

According to Tanari Trust Trustee Muhia Karianjahi, the team will spend Tuesday night at Karanga camp before proceeding to Barafu Camp as they prepare to summit on Wednesday night.

“So far, the team is coping. I am impressed by the performance” said Mr Karianjahi.

The team will reach the summit early Thursday morning –at Uhuru Point, Africa’s rooftop. The descent will take two days.

The climb was officially flagged off last Friday by the NMG human resources director Mwikali Muthiani at the group's headquarters at Nation Centre, Nairobi.

Ms Muthiani said the funds raised through the campaign will be put into longterm projects to alleviate hunger in drought hit areas.

Currently, over four million Kenyans are facing starvation due to food shortages as drought continues to ravage different parts of the country.

High food prices have only worsened the situation which has also hit the horn of Africa becoming the worst drought in 60 years.

While the government has put in place several initiatives to stem the famine, corporate are taking up similar supplementary projects.

Over the last two months, an initiative dubbed Kenyans for Kenya has raised close to Sh1 billion to help in food purchases in drought stricken areas.

The initiative was led by Kenya Red Cross and supported by the Media Owners Association and several corporate organisations.

The NMG employees have had to endure difficult terrain and wet weather conditions during the expedition, which is facilitated by Tanari Trust, an adventure programming firm.

Gordon Brown looks dour, humourless, and a tad too serious. His younger opponent, the Conservative Party’s David Cameroon, is the exact opposite. Flashy, media-savvy, a bit too slick Aside from the good looks and the flashing smile, there is gnawing suspicion he is more dash than substance.

Britain is now set to choose who between the two should be their prime minister. The date for the elections has now been set for May 6, just four short weeks away. It doesn’t speak well of the frivolity of today’s media-hyped politics that the guy with the dash may actually get voted in. But if Kenya and Africa were to join the voting, there would be no doubt whatsoever as to their preference.

Write Off

It was on a visit to Tanzania in 2005 when Mr Brown, then the Chancellor of Britain’s Exchequer, cancelled all of Tanzania’s bilateral debt to Britain and promised to do the same with the poorest of the world’s poor. His actual pledge was that he was ready to pay a whopping 10 per cent of the poor world’s debt bill. He wanted Britain’s fellow rich-world clubmates – the US, Japan, Germany and France – to promise the same. They have largely failed to do so.

Mr Brown’s upbringing in a family of devout Scottish Presbyterians forms the basis of his moral compass. It is this compass that explains his consistent political identification with the underdog and the poor. When Britain hosted the Gleneagles G-20 meeting in 2005, he pushed Prime Minister Tony Blair to make the drive against global poverty the centerpiece of the agenda.

Becoming prime minister in 2007, he did not relent on this crusade, though domestic politics and muted interest from fellow creditor countries have greatly hobbled his vision.

Of course, Mr Brown is not just a woolly-minded idealist. Prosperity in the Third World helps Britain to prosper too. That way she can sell more of her products there. It should be remembered that Britain relies on its ex-colonies’ markets to a degree countries like, say, the US or Germany don’t.

Has the yardstick for measuring what it takes to be a man changed? Is being a man in today's world easier than was the case previously?

These are just a few of the questions that a recent Lifestyle (Sunday Nation magazine) article by university don Tom Odhiambo triggers.

Odhiambo asks: "How do we define manhood in a society such as ours with competing cultural, racial, religious and educational backgrounds? Is manhood among the Maasai to be compared with manhood among the Iteso?"

Losing to Women

He argues that while it may be true that men are losing out to women in schools, the job market, offices, at home and in society in general, what exactly are they losing?: "Power? Wealth? Status? Image? Is losing these attributes really loss of manhood?"

Odhiambo also wonders whether a man who was born and brought up in Nairobi, educated in London and Singapore, is a Muslim, works for a multinational in Lagos and whose wife lives in Nairobi has the same sense of manhood as a Christian man born, bred, works and has lived all his life in Turkana?

What is your take on the whole concept of manhood in today's world?

As the leading economy in the region, Kenya is expected to be first in just about every matter. Its companies operate across the region and in some cases globally.

You may think the country's economy is a good example of a capitalist state, one of a perfect competition. Think Again. Kenya has a lopsided economy and its actually an oligarchy.

While we hear ‘Customer is King’ and such adages, the reality is Kenya is a seller’s market and not a buyer’s market. The person or the entity selling the good or service has an unfair advantage as the customer does not really have a choice. Think Kenya Power- who are more concerned about re branding budgets and shiny logos than supplying uninterrupted power to the country.

Nowhere in the world does a single telecom operator have a 60 per cent plus market share. To add to that a premium package for satellite television costs 100 USD per month! The market forces are such that new entrants are sniffed out by a coterie of politicians and industrialists. It’s a sad state of affairs as it is the ordinary Kenyans who have to pay high costs for mediocre services and commodities.

In the name of competition, existing players further cement their positions at the top and almost have a tight grip over what services to offer and pricing levels. This reminds me of Henry Ford- who said ‘You can have any colour as long as its black’

Also about 300 old Kenyan men control most of the senior positions in these organisations and it is such a tight circle that no one can enter it with the aim of serving the consumer!

The banking industry works as a cartel. There are not many countries in the world where you get paid two per cent for the money you deposit and the same money is loaned back to you at 25-30pc.

Its such a simple business model that it hardly requires any number crunching, yet the banks complain about regulations harming their businesses, yet they buy Sh50,000 a -plate-dinner for MP’s to postpone interest rate reviews.

It is appalling that they restrict the money supply in the market, which otherwise would mean young companies can have access to cheap capital to build new services and products and compete against the existing players.

Economists who argue for high interest rates claiming cheap capital will lead to inflation are mistaken as that is valid in economies in different maturity cycles (much larger GDP’s and more mature debt instruments). The same banks were borrowing from ‘discount windows’ and then reselling at market rates leading to the volatility of the shilling and losses of billions to the exchequer and ordinary citizens.

The government needs to understand that unemployment can only be reduced if there are enough companies creating jobs as giant monopolies are not going to create enough jobs to employ the hundreds of thousands looking for jobs. It is the small and medium size enterprises (SMEs) that will form the backbone of the country and create purchasing power.

Kenya is one of the very few countries in Africa where the service industry forms a high percent of GDP and by nipping entrepreneurs in the bud by not providing credit we are killing their ideas and ambitions.

Another short-sighted view taken by the government is high personal tax rates. I don’t see what the government needs my taxes for if I have to further pay my medical bills, buy clean drinking water, pay through my nose for affordable housing and schooling for my kids.

Tax revenue collection actually proves counter-productive and leads to corruption and creation inefficiency. The government should lower tax rates and introduce slab based rates based on the incomes.

Rich people should be taxed more and people with incomes of less than Sh50,000 per month should be exempt from all forms of taxes.

Kenya has recently discovered oil and a new oil revenue policy is on the way that will outline a roadmap on sharing revenue.

Yes, revenues are a good 6-8 years away as the entire process is a long drawn one and I am assuming here that it will happen. This is my humble submission to the Government of Kenya as to what should be done.

There are various ideas out there- invest in agriculture, infrastructure, tourism and some as radical as paying each citizen a fixed share via their mobile phone so they can decide what to do with their part of the national wealth.

I have a different opinion. 

Of all the revenues the GOK must allocate at least 60 per cent in building five world class educational institutes through which it should promote quality teaching and research , build entrepreneur cells that invest in ideas and companies spun from these institutes, research and development grants for student and teaching staff.

We should build a world class engineering university covering all aspects of engineering, a world class medical university covering most medical disciplines, a world class but African focused management university, a university on arts, culture and sport and finally a university for agricultural sciences.

The remaining part of the revenue – 20pc should go to the development of the Turkana region, its people, its facilities and surrounding areas for security and another 20pc should go towards building hospitals across towns in Kenya.

Why universities? It is probably the investment which will provide the highest rate of return and provides both tangible and intangible benefits and 3-4 generations down the line we will still be reaping benefits of this initiative.

Spending on infrastructure or any other initiative according to me will only sink in large costs and in the short term provide employment but risk becoming white elephant projects.

Such projects due to their huge outlay and scale attract leakage and host of other issues – like maintenance, proper contracting, evolving technology.

Instead of spending money on agriculture or tourism let's invest in developing potential of our people and not on already established industries where existing players already are pushing innovation or in areas where others have already taken giant steps.

These universities should have a standardised entrance test – a common entrance test open to students across Africa and admissions should be strictly on merit only. The cost of attending these universities should be kept to a bare minimum so fees and ‘education costs’ should not be a constraint for any one with ability. The university campuses must be spread across Kenya, so that there is no rush in the already crowded Nairobi and its surroundings.

A study done in 2009, shows that MIT- the world’s most famous technological institute- generated over two trillion US dollars in revenue via the companies its students set up. This fact says enough about the short and long term benefits these universities can provide.

Building world class educational institutes will empower our children to take their destiny in their own hands. There are no world class or world renowned universities in Africa ( we did have some in the 60’s and 70’s ).

Lack of expertise means Africa spends almost four billion USD annually in hiring expats ( 2008 estimate) and hundreds of thousands of students leave our shores for higher education every year taking with them valuable foreign exchange ( close to one billion USD annually).

The credibility of Parliament suffered on Thursday when deputy Speaker Farah Maalim made a contentious, even illogical, ruling.

From my vantage position at the Press gallery, it was clear that Mr Maalim was in a dilemma on the way forward after a mind-boggling disorder from the House Business Committee, which sets the parliamentary agenda.

It is a fact that the committee had scheduled the report - on the Sh1.18 billion affair - for debate that afternoon.

Somehow, at about 10am, a new Order Paper materialised. It had deleted the discussion of the report, instead leaving the Finance Bill, 2010 as the subject of discussion. Then in total breach of Standing Orders, Mr Maalim allowed the Clerk’s Office to distribute a Supplementary Order Paper when the sitting was in progress.

Now, Standing Order (House rule) 35(1) is very clear: “The Order Paper shall be placed in each Members’s pigeon hole, at least 12 hours before the House meets, but a Supplementary Order Paper shall be made available at least one hour before the House meets.”

That alone, makes me think, the deputy Speaker should have been wise to take seriously the Point of Order (an alert over breach of procedure) by Yatta MP Charles Kilonzo, that there were multiple Order Papers in the House. He didn’t.

Instead, he said, the matter should come later.

So when the embattled Foreign Affairs minister, Moses Wetang’ula, was asking him to stay debate on a report indicting him (Wetang’ula), he had no business entertaining such filibustering.

Mr Maalim had acted wisely when he asked Mr Wetang’ula to let the chairman of the House Committee on Defence and Foreign Relations to go ahead and move the motion. In his own words, he had insisted that the motion was properly before the House.

He even read to Mr Wetang’ula the provisions of S.O. 25, that, if he wished to postpone the debate, the rules allowed for it. For a moment, I thought he had settled the matter.

But Mr Wetang’ula persisted. He said he had not read the report and that the report was ‘personal’ and that his Ministry was the respondent. He told Parliament that he got the report --which was tabled on Tuesday-- that Thursday morning. I didn’t believe him.

Once reports are tabled, they are automatically available to MPs. Because his Ministry was the respondent, he definitely should have been much more interested in getting the report that Tuesday. Other MPs did.

Instead, he sat back and let Wednesday go by, then knowing that he had to attend the Cabinet meeting on Thursday, he comes forth with an excuse that he got the report at 9.30am and rushed to Cabinet.

I am sure his permanent secretary Thuita Mwangi was not in the Cabinet meeting. And I am also sure that he had read the report because he responded --through the media-- to the recommendations of the report.

So after the stubborn plea by the minister, the deputy Speaker is flustered and decides that it is the House Business Committee, which brought confusion.

October 10 would have been a public holiday if Kenyans had not decided in the August 4 referendum to erase 24 years of Moi’s misrule from their collective memory.

As a people, we should probably all bow our heads in shame for having wasted Kenya’s precious nation-building time by staying away from our places of work and trooping to public venues to celebrate what was called Moi Day.

I won’t be unkind to the people amongst us who hold that their man actually deserved to have a National Day named after him.

Indeed, Mr Moi did some good things and even passed off as a nice president sometimes.

He had a passion for building schools, went to church every Sunday, stepped out of his limousine to buy market women groceries and repeatedly sought to explain his not-so-apparent humility amid political provocation out of his love for women and children.

But this shouldn’t even be enough to earn him a mention in a patriotic song.

On his watch, officials looted the public granary and made millions of Kenyans poorer.

Kenya sank deeper into a police state, which detained and tortured its citizens.

And state-sponsored terror, baptised “tribal or land clashes”, killed or uprooted families from their homes in some parts of the country.

The mystery of Mr Moi, however, is how he became president in the first place.

History books seem to depict him as an insecure politician, who stood for nothing other than political resentment for the so-called “big tribes”, preferred independence delayed until Kenya was cut into ethnic pieces and imagined himself as the small king of the Rift Valley.

After the recent referendum, he has appeared to be hurting from the fact that there would no longer be an administrative unit of such a name.

History also casts Mr Moi as a political opportunist whose fortunes rose with his loyalty to Kenyatta, his being the constitutional heir apparent as VP and the scheming by the Kikuyu ethnic elite around Kenyatta known as Gatundu royal court to have the Constitution changed to stop Mr Moi.

Shariff Nassir, the late Cabinet minister, told Mr Moi’s biographer Andrew Morton that there might have been an outbreak of civil war had the anti-Moi plot succeeded.

Which just deepens the mystery: how could Kenyans contemplate war to save the career of a man whose presidency would gain notoriety for being Kenya’s wasted years?

It was with shock and sorrow that I and most Kenyans including those in the Diaspora received news of the death Musa Juma. Arguably Kenya’s biggest Benga maestro, Musa Juma passed away on Tuesday, March 15th, 2011 at 5pm in a Mombasa hospital and within an hour news had spread across the country like bush fire.

I first came in to contact with Musa Juma at a club in the heart of Dandora called Awendo in the early 2000 where he performed every weekend. Being a big fun of Rhumba and Lingala I got in to the club out of curiosity to see this ‘Zaire’ artist who was performing in a slum area.

I soon found myself returning to Awendo frequently. Thoroughly soothed, only later did I realise that the singer with a silver voice was actually Luo and not Congolese, and what he was singing was actually Luo and not Lingala. This set me on course to discovering the poetic Dholuo language and my interest grew from then on. My fall for his music was complete and overnight I became a diehard fan.

Much as I thought Awendo was dingy, soon I was to discover that my boss then frequented the place too. The Limpopo ballads drew people to follow Musa into the slum and wherever else he went.

Maselina

The crooner had a way with his lines that made one seek out the message in his songs. The first track I took to was ‘Siaya Kababa’ which means Siaya the place/land of my father, a song that for the longest of time struck me as a Rhumba import from Zaire. Soon my friends were to baptise me ‘Maselina’ after Musa’s track on the struggle between money and true love. I sing it word for word and even adding my own variations to convince Maselina how wealthy and significant a Jaluo I am…..

‘Nyoremo’ still does it for me up to date. I fly when I sing it and as much I understand not all the lines, I know that Nyar Gem K’Oremo is light and pretty.

Work once took me to Kisumu and I was all exhausted after a taxing day. Half-asleep on a cab ride to the hotel, I was jolted back to attention after chancing on a flyer advertising Musa Juma show. In the end the cab was diverted and it was not before six hours lapsed that I call back the cab and resumed my trip to the hotel. The cab driver wondered why I was so taken by songs whose messages I barely understood, but I sang along just as I would to Franco’s 'Chacun pour Zoi' or 'Francois'.

Musa had a way with the words and his voice was one to die for. It must has been in the genes, for even his late brother Omondi Tony too was a wonder.

Musa Juma played in a different league and no one can replace him or come close. I will remember him most for ‘Hera Mudho’, ‘Christina’, ‘Siaya Kababa’, ‘Freddy’, ‘Osiepe’, not forgetting his collabos with his late brother such as ‘Akinyi Judy’ and ‘Nyoremo’.

For now, I can only say that the Limpopo band is in heaven; the great combination of Musa Juma and Omondi Tony have taken the Limpopo band to where we will join them some day and enjoy the live band again. Goodbye MJ!

Several factors have come up recently that have made me question whether the direction we are going in is the right one.

We are constantly being encouraged to embrace development, both economically and socially, so why is it that this nostalgic tick keeps flashing across these ‘wondrous’ visions?

The loss of kiosks in ‘beautification’ projects, especially in the capital Nairobi, for one was a contradiction in itself.

It was really beautiful watching the destruction of so many people’s livelihoods as well as the personal relationships so many of us had formed with those vendors.

It’s bad enough they have to compete with giant supermarkets that spring up on every Nairobi corner but now let’s watch them make their livelihood as mobile as possible…because face it, you’ll have to move fast when that cop comes round the corner.

The smile between strangers has also become a rarity as we develop, progress, and become an increasingly modern society.

Could we attribute this to the sheer scale of inequality that has hit our society over the years (positive messages are not going to start radiating through society when you can see a brand new porshamercprado drive past an old lady carrying a bundle of wood on her back…up a hill) or perhaps the smile is losing the battle when individuals become more detached from each other and conditioned en masse by our new needs and desires.

Talking of new needs and desires…what happened to the days when beauty was natural and clothes a way of hiding the essentials?

I’m not talking about us going all ‘loin cloth’, but fashion has suddenly become a complex for many individuals and a need. Criticism of dress sense and encouragement to ‘get it right’ are getting more exposure in social and media conversations. It’s not much fun eavesdropping anymore when all people can talk about is their clothes, what happened to good old debate and gossip…

The CarMax opening in Langata is the most recent example of this. For Sh400 I can now get my car all squeaky clean…but what about the person that would come up to your car with that dodgy looking water and a sponge that leaves more dirt on your windscreen that you came with?

The enthusiastic determination to remove all the dirt would keep them running in circles around your bonnet. If not for the nostalgia of it…how about the humanity? Do we really want to replace workers with machines even if they could be more efficient and cost-effective?

‘Ah…the good ol’ days…’ and here I was thinking that was a phrase reserved for my father…

• Initiative in which woman took part seeks to raise Sh60 million that will be pumped into famine eradication projects in country

In the wee hours of Mashujaa Day, Ms Leah Chalo, 51, became Nation Media Group’s oldest employee to scale Africa’s tallest mountain.

Step by step, she took on the rocks of the alpine desert, with icy wind blowing across her face, parching her lips, cheeks and nose. Her goal was to reach Uhuru Peak at 5,895 metres above sea level.

Suddenly, she stopped. She turned to her guide, Mr Hosea Massoud, and told him that she could not go up.

“I am tired. I think I have done enough. Let me just go back to the camp,” she said, with her back on a huge rock along the steep trail on the treacherous terrain on the way from Barafu Camp to Stella Point. 

The guide refused.

He let her sip her water, then he passed her a sweet. She casually thrust the sweet into her mouth and sucked the sweetness out of it within minutes. She got the energy and began taking more steps up.

The journey from Barafu Camp to Stella Point (5,730 metres above sea level), the second largest peak at the top of Mt Kilimanjaro, is a seven-hour trek.

The hike is done at night so that come sunrise, the mountaineers are at the peak of the mountain and they can marvel at God’s creation as the sun lights the earth. It looks very intimidating during the day.

When Ms Chalo woke up at 10pm on Wednesday and sipped hot black tea and ate crunchy biscuits, all she had in her mind was how she would go up the mountain and conquer it.

“I wanted to do something for charity, something remarkable and that’s why I joined NMG’s Kiliclimb team,” Ms Chalo said.

Kiliclimb-Bridge the Gap is Nation Media Group’s initiative to raise Sh60 million and pump it into famine eradication projects. The fund-raising is ongoing and, according to NMG’s head of corporate affairs David Maingi, all those who had made pledges are asked to fulfil them while those keen to contribute are urged to do so.

Back to Ms Chalo. She trekked for two hours and asked for a break to sip her water. It was a freezing dark night. The moon came out of the horizon and peered through the clouds, shining light on the ground below, quietly staring at the hundreds of mountaineers making their way up alongside the Kiliclimb team.

On the ground, Ms Chalo and her colleagues took their baby steps. The cold was stinging. The sand, pebbles and boulders were a tricky platform to step on because they made every footstep an effort.

You could slide downhill at any moment. And with the sharp rocks awaiting your downfall, such an eventuality made the muscles tense.

Altitude sickness