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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Magical Day for Magical Kenya


Yesterday, July 28th 2010, was a monumental day for Kenya as, coincidentally it marked the official opening day for two historic events in the country, the World Scouts Moot and African Senior Athletics Championships. It's a first for Kenya on both events, and indeed the first ever World Scouts Moot to be held in Africa.

The President (and his escorts) had a busy day as he had to open both events whose opening ceremony was almost back to back. And he managed, arriving at the Nyayo Stadium still draped in his scouting gear (though he got rid of it before reaching the dais).

A proud day for Kenya indeed, which was duly crowned with the first Gold and Bronze medals in the men 10000m final.

We wish all athletes a wonderful five days, a spirit of African unity and a taste of magical Kenya.

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Wednesday, July 21, 2010

My Take-Off Nightmare

The plane made a bold rumbling and taxied off towards take-off point, then lifted lazily into the sky. I knew the drill. I had been here several times before. Still I tensed up – something I did during take-off without fail. It seemed to me these large Boeings ascended rather slowly for their size (not true, just perspective) and at times felt like they were losing power and needed a push upwards. Mh, not very comfy…

All I wanted was for this part to be over and to see the cabin crew unbelt and get busy, a sign that all was well and clear. And soon my wish was granted. We acquired the height where the crew is allowed to unbelt, and they busied themselves preparing to feed us something. But then suddenly, as if on cue, the plane seemed to lurch downwards before bouncing up again. This happened a few times and soon the environment inside the plane was positively troubled as it became obvious our flight had encountered an unforeseen problem. We heaved up and down almost uncontrollably, sometimes appearing to be headed right for the ground. Very unsettling when you consider we were supposed to be climbing, not going down!

‘Cabin crew, take your seats,’ came the announcement on the intercom. And now I was positively horrified. See, this had never happened to me on a flight before. Everyone knew the crew usually did not belt up again until the landing, unless the plane was in serious trouble and the Captain foresaw danger. So it was that my heart jumped to my mouth.

I knew exactly who to blame. (Satan, who obviously did not want me to see my beloved country again!) So I pleaded with God silently. I reminded Him of all our earlier negotiations and conversations. ‘God please no. This is not what we talked about. You know I’ve got things to go do back home. You’ve got to see us through this,’ I prayed frantically as the plane continued to heave up and down. Sometimes it seemed to fall 10 meters straight before coming up again as the pilot struggled to stabilize the troubled craft.

I wish I could say this happened quickly but it infact seemed to go on forever as we made our ascent headed across the English Channel. Eventually though it did calm down and the Captain came on the intercom again. ‘We apologize about that. The turbulence we encountered had not been forecast and we have been informed that the aircraft before us went through the same turbulence.’

Mh, comforting! I thought. Unforeseen, unforecast turbulence. Fancy that…! What other unforecast things were we likely to encounter?

Soon the cabin crew were able to take off their belts and get busy with the service, but the belt-up sign remained for the rest of us and, frankly, I doubt anyone was in a hurry to unbelt.

The lady next to me busied herself putting on her socks while her husband looked straight ahead with clenched jaw, obviously concerned about the turbulent take-off. ‘That was a rough turbulence huh?’ I said when I had found my voice. ‘What turbulence?’ came the incredulous answer from the lady next to me. ‘Did you not feel it?’ I asked. She had to be joking. ‘No, I did not feel a thing.’

Well, lucky her, I thought. How she could have missed that, or the Captain’s announcement to the crew, I’ll never know. But she was the better for it – the rest of us were a basketcase of nerves. The turbulence had now eased considerably, but it was a long while later, somewhere over the Mediterranean, before we experienced a truly smooth flight.

Now flying has never really been my cup of tea but it has to be done. Truth be told, after the take-off, which I always find excruciatingly nerve-racking, the rest of it is a smooth ride. And despite what they say about the dangers thereof, I really do enjoy the landing. It never bothers me and usually signifies my arrival. (Of course I’m not naive, I know how many accidents happen during landing, but still, perspective like I said. I have no problem with landing.)

Take-off for me however is one of those necessary evils. As soon as the wheels leave the ground, I know the only safe way down is to get to the desired altitude and destination. As soon as the process begins I go involuntarily very quiet inside. Talking to me at this juncture is futile as I don’t verbally respond, maybe just a vacant stare. (Mark you I’m not the only one. Several people can be observed with their eyes tightly shut.)

Once the cabin crew unbelts I relax just a little but not enough, till the Captain removes the belting sign for everyone. At this point I relax a little more but it’s not until about an hour into the flight that I am myself again. Due to the tension I usually can’t stand that first meal served immediately after take-off. It’s all I can do not to scream, ‘Leave me alone! How can you think about food at a time like this?’ I only pick at this meal and am usually very relieved when the crew finally clears it from my little table.

Looking at me though, you would probably never guess how tense I get inside the first hour of flying. This is because I react by going quiet and withdrawing into myself as opposed to heavy breathing or verbal panic. But it’s still there.

I guess had it not been for this scary experience, I would never have known what they mean by turbulence. All my flights had been hitherto in huge, comfortable crafts and stable weather. But it had to happen on my final journey back to Kenya. I shudder to think what could have happened had it been a smaller aircraft. There were times I genuinely wondered whether we were going to plummet right back to the ground. It very much felt like it and I was beginning to silently ask God why He would get me so excited about going back home only to end it in this way.

Well, it didn’t happen and I am safely back in this beautiful land, thank God, but I developed a new respect for flying. You can never take anything for granted, and indeed you must always be prepared.

They never should have grounded the Concorde. I know in its old age it did a couple of terrible accidents but by and large, due to its unbelievable speed I'm sure one never felt the pain of take-off, and before you could begin to fidget you were home and dry. I was kinda hoping to get rich enough to use the Concorde when suddenly they announced its demise without any foreseeable resurrection. Well, I still believe another supersonic craft will arise, and hopefully by then, I'll be able to afford it!

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Did You Know.....?

If you don't tell your story right, someone else will tell it wrong.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Good Systems our Lifeline


For any institution to thrive and excel, certain principles must be followed. There has to be that set of rules that keeps everyone functioning in a fairly set and predictable manner so that surprises are kept to a minimum. Indeed, surprises are not condoned unless they are pleasant ones.

Good organisations set systems in place because, just as humans must have a leader to achieve a common purpose, so must they have a system to drive and dictate the process. If you have ever tried to get a group of people to work together without an appointed leader of any definition, then you know how it would be like to try and get the same group to work together without a set system and rules.

It is an illusion that man (and woman), left to his own devices, will do good and maintain integrity out of the goodness of his soul. Indeed, he may be willing to do good, but given too much room and space to himself he begins to entertain thoughts, or rather evil begins to whisper to him on all the things he can do and get away with, things that would bring a certain amount of pleasure/comfort to his life and those close to him.

We mostly start as good, well-meaning people. We even have convictions and we don’t shy away from making them known. We swear by them and condemn anyone who dares to behave contrary to our righteous values. Yet, left unchecked, with no one to point out the wrong in our actions, or when immersed in an atmosphere of impunity where everyone does as they please with little or no consequences, we quickly adapt and grab what we can, conscience conveniently discarded with, to be removed from the drawer long after we have relished the delights of the forbidden fruit.

Systems help stop us in our tracks. You are deluded if you think the reason we stay away from many immoral deeds is because we loathe them and cannot be seen anywhere near them. Truth be told, some of them are quite delightful – at least in the short-term – and it’s all we can do to stay away or keep our minds from dwelling on them. The reason why most of us stay away (many don’t) is because there is a law, a system that says it’s wrong, that we are not allowed, and that there will be serious consequences should we succumb, consequences that may find us here or follow us to the afterlife. Often times we also stay away as we can’t bear the shame of being associated with those deeds if caught - so valued is our reputation in society.

We rave and marvel when people behave in a way we didn’t expect, when those in positions of authority disappoint us, when leaders exhibit behaviour that is akin to the animal kingdom in it’s selfishness and utter thoughtlessness. We especially shudder when they somehow get away with it. The fact is, this only happens when there are no proper systems in place. Systems that would, for the most part, check this kind of behaviour and, at the same time, be efficient enough to punish anyone who dares to flout the rules anyway.

Unless we create workable systems, we are expecting too much of our chosen and elected leaders. They are, after all, human, many of whom have had the unequal advantage of studying Political Science, a subject I have no knowledge of but suspect has a lot to do with our pain and misrule in many nations.

This begs the question though, ‘Who will create the system?’ Because, see, whether you like it or not, systems are created over time by the rulers of the day: The very leaders we are trying to contain. Hence the need for all to speak out, make our voices and desires known; hence the need for more and more men and women of integrity to aspire to leadership positions so that, eventually, however painstakingly, bad systems (or sheer lack of systems) will be replaced with systems created by conscientious human beings who fear God and respect their fellow man enough to pursue and want to pursue true justice.

And if anyone is listening, this is as good a time as any for our nation to start thinking systems and forget personalities. Personalities are simply people, full of weaknesses and failures, capable of doing us much harm. What we need are systems, as systems can tame even the worst of human beings and channel their energy only to productive uses. Persons may, if they so wish, expend their negative energy in private vices (which we don’t wish to know or hear about, thank you very much!) But when it comes to public service, we only want the straightjacket of clean and development conscious behaviour and activity. Indeed, should we learn of your secret vice and decide it’s interfering with public service, then we have every right to dispense with you. So important is honour and absolute purity in public service, and it’s time our leaders learnt and lived by that fact.

The sooner we get to the point where we run by systems and not persons, the quicker our civilization and democracy will mature. Excellence will find its place in our land, and the desert places will soon be transformed into the Garden of Eden. For when everyone pulls their weight in a predictable, predetermined manner, then we shall achieve results we have hitherto only dreamed of or seen in other countries.

We are tired of drama and negative surprises, corruption scandal after corruption scandal, violence, oppression, insecurity, poverty: We wish to pull together instead under the direction of set rules and systems, where we know the role and expected results of each person. We wish to channel all our energies according to the rules of the land and create a new and better Kenya. We do not wish to know you as a person. We only wish to know your work. Let your actions precede you and follow after you. Let them tell us who you are. We only wish to know your position on the wheel of our system, and what output is resulting from your input.

If we can work together as a nation within the system, then we can relegate private activities and alliances to private after work hours, where we can conduct our social, familial and religious activities, happy in the knowledge that we have all put in an honest day’s work, and that the wheel of our nation is turning as it should, and that we have enough to eat and to spare both now and for posterity.

That, my dear Kenyans, is what we should all be working towards.

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Friday, July 2, 2010

Beautiful Coast




As I sat on the shore looking out to sea, I noticed several figures who seemed to be walking a mile into the sea. ‘Is it me or do I see human figures walking inside the ocean?’

‘Yeah,’ the security guard replied. ‘Those are people doing the coral walk. Would you like to go there?’

‘Are you kidding me?’ I replied. ‘What would I do if the ocean came rushing back? I’d never make it to shore on time.’

‘The sea has regular times when the tide goes in and out. With a proper guide, anyone can go in there,’ he reassured, but I wasn’t buying any of it.

True to character though I found myself on the very walk two days later. My husband had negotiated with a beach guide and soon the arduous journey began. We had to be in shoes, or at least strong, well-covered sandals. Reason? Sea urchins - and all sorts of other creatures ready to sting your bare feet should you accidentally or otherwise step on them.

My sandals soon proved pretty useless for the walk and our guide kindly offered me his sports shoes (he was well prepared), and I promptly accepted, giving him my sandals instead. See, he was more experienced than I and could easily dodge any mischievous sea-creature.

The walk was incredibly slow - walking in water is no mean task, and there was so much to see. Beautiful seaweed and sea flowers; corals, numerous marine life including sea urchins, starfish, sea-gherkins (living creature that very much resembles the plant gherkin); crabs, and shells of all kinds used as shelter by various creatures.

If you had told me I could walk a mile into sea without being more than two-feet deep in water, I might have disagreed until now. It so happens that along the Mombasa North Coast is a natural barrier to the Indian Ocean in the form of Coral Reef. As such the deep sea does not really begin till you are at the Reef. Between the Reef and the shoreline though is the flatish expanse where the sea overflows to during high tide. At low tide it recedes leaving an area one can walk on, though still marshy at places. This ritual goes on every day, except at certain rare times when the sea is rough and the tide does not quite go back enough for people to make the walk.

Once you reach the Coral (barrier) Reef, you thank God you made the trip. For this really is where the sea begins, and the waves break constantly in wonderful yet awesome formations, providing that beautiful sea breeze and experience that gives the Coast its true name. You watch the deep blue waves suddenly break into sparkling, pure white foam, then wash gently against your feet as they pour onto the shallow side of the Reef. You get drawn by the sheer vastness of the abyss that is the blueness spreading out before you into oblivion, and it dawns on you you have no desire to attempt to cross the barrier without being on some high speed boat or motored craft.

This is where the forward walk must end for those on foot, so you begin to walk along the deep sea shoreline till you start the journey back, this time walking over live and dead coral, and dodging a colony of sea-urchins like you’ve never seen. At this point my skin literally crawled. The black, spiky creatures looked ready to strike at any moment, clearly visible by the dozens under the pristine water. It was a precarious journey through this section and the guide cautioned as much.

By and large it was an exciting and thrilling experience but not without its downside, for my husband did get stung even while wearing his sandals. He downplayed it though but I can just imagine the pain he endured for the remainder of the journey. Later when he asked me for a pin or needle I had no idea what it was for until he produced the little bit of a spike the sea-urchin had managed to plant into his foot… uuhgg!

I was glad when it was over. Glad that I had indeed done the walk – the view of the sea from the barrier reef is priceless; glad that we had made it back without a Tsunami sweeping us forever into the sea; delighted at all the precious and beautiful marine life we had feasted our eyes on; and definitely glad to be firmly back on dry land!

All that night I dreamt I was still doing the walk, or that I was swimming. That’s what a 2-hour walk in the water can do to you. My brain kept going long after my body had stopped… ha ha ha.

If the beach guide got stung under those useless sandals of mine, I’ll never know. He, like my husband, was a perfect gentleman and only worried about getting us through safely. His sports shoes were just what I needed. I never would have escaped otherwise.

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Simply Outrageous!

There can be no justification for the hefty pay hike our legislators have awarded themselves yet again, especially at a time when the so-called Akiwumi report was so awaited by Kenyans as we thought finally someone had brought sanity to the way our leaders are remunerated. My, were we wrong!

It’s an insult to Kenyans as the whole point was to not only review the salaries to make them reasonable and not burdensome to the country, but also to introduce taxation for the legislators allowances. And the report, together with the MPs, found a perfect solution for this – simply increase the salary, that way taxation will not matter, you’ll still take home much more than you’re taking now!

How long do our leaders think they can take Kenyans for granted and get away scotfree? Have they forgotten where we’ve come from, and how many obstacles we’ve so far overcome, and that, if they become an obstacle to Kenyans and the development of our nation, we will overcome them too?

There can be no justification for a ‘Developing economy’ to pay its legislators much more than those of ‘Developed economies’. Is that so hard to understand, to figure out? And if the reasoning is that they are working in hardship areas, then so are all Kenyans, so let’s go ahead and double the pay of every single Kenyan! Our legislators can argue and reason till they are blue in the face, but they know and so does everyone else that this is simply gross misuse of power and public funds. It is Parliamentary dictatorship, no less.

Sadly our politicians are not known to pay much attention to the cries and sentiments of the masses. So they’ll probably go ahead and enact the outrageous proposals. But it will not always be like that, and that’s a promise. If they don’t care, God, who listens to the cry of His people and comes to the rescue of the poor, will care, and act accordingly, and that, sooner rather than later.

The system has failed us. We must, as a nation, come up with a system that ensures this kind of thing never happens again. We must think of ways to deny the politicians the very unreasonable privilege of deciding their own paycheques... I mean who else does that, unless you run a sole proprietorship? and even then you must take into account income versus expenditure otherwise you bankrupt yourself....

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Tuesday, June 29, 2010

A Rare Jewel buried deep - Tharaka

Every so often you travel to a place where you feel so refreshed you wish you never had to go back to the hustle and bustle of the city, the noise of overpopulated areas. Yet at the same time you are also keenly aware this is not a place you can last longer than a week with your sanity intact, if you are used to noise and modern madness.

That was my experience the first and only time I travelled to Tharaka in 2009. I had heard a lot about the place already, and I had an idea what to expect. For instance I knew that once you exited the smooth and well-paved Meru Road at either Chuka or Nkubu, you braced yourself for the ride of a lifetime, where a distance which should with proper roads take half an hour to cover, now required no less than 3 hours, literally!

I had also been informed that the roads were now being worked on and therefore the journey would be much easier than one or two years earlier, when the ride would have been nothing short of hair-raising.

And so as we exited Meru road at Chuka, I braced myself for the worst, excited and tense at the same time, thrilled and expecting adventure. The first few miles were just fine, the road works had indeed started and loose ballast had been spread onto the road. A good step but itself dangerous as the ballast had not yet firmed up. We couldn’t speed up, but at least the road was good. We were full of praise at the efforts to construct the road.

Eventually though the ballasted area came to an end and we found ourselves negotiating the dusty, rocky, sometimes muddy road the rest of the way. At places the road seemed to vanish and it felt like we were finding our own way through the rough terrain. I discovered sometimes the road went through dry riverbeds and wondered what happened during the rainy season. Well, even here efforts were being made to construct some sort of bridges, but to be honest they were ridiculously low; as in if it rained the bridge-like structure would be fully submerged. (Indeed when my friends later on made a trip to the place during the rainy season they had to alight at these bridges and guide the driver across as the river had fully covered them).

Even being Kenyan and accustomed to bad roads, honestly I never thought the kind of roads I saw in Tharaka existed, except as short inroads to homes and private places. Even the dusty roads upcountry were often smoothed out by tractors and were fairly easy to use except in the rainy season. Furthermore my experience so far had been that dusty roads were no more than a few miles long, 20 minutes ride at most, joining the tarmac roads soon enough to link to other towns and cities in the country. But not so in Tharaka.

The rough road dragged on and on, painful mile after painful mile until, 3 hours later, we arrived at Marimanti. Now Marimanti, I’m told, is the District headquarters of Tharaka; another shocker as, as clean and beautiful as the place was, it’s really small and looks more like some of the shopping centres in my home area. Indeed quite a number of the shopping centres I know are larger than Marimanti, and more populated - much more.

Besides the preoccupation with the ride though, the scenery and the surroundings was amazing and calming to the mind and the senses. Tharaka opens up before you, a virgin, largely undisturbed land, with very few occupants, and you can just feel and smell nature in all its beauty, pristine almost to the point of being sacred. The quietness steals your soul and you fall in love, even though you know the love affair will have to be a long-distance one as only the locals and a very few others can bear the challenges for much longer. As you approach Marimanti you can’t miss the beautiful hills towering before you and getting closer and closer, engulfing the district in an embrace like some kind of natural frontier.

In the dry season, Tharaka looks like some kind of semi-arid area with the beauty associated with such places. However when it rains it’s transformed into a beautifully green agricultural land where grains like sorghum, green grams and millet grow in plenty. Beekeeping is a prime activity here and Tharaka honey is an experience you don’t want to miss.

The highlight of my visit was the delicious goat meat we had at the main restaurant. Suffice it to say meat has never tasted better, owing to the natural vegetation on which the herds and cattle here are reared. We enjoyed amazing hospitality from all the Tharaka people we met on this occasion.

Due to the lack of infrastructure, public transport is limited in Tharaka and as such one has to travel from very early in the morning and catch the bus back by midday from Chuka or Nkubu otherwise you’ve got to wait till the next day. It makes sense given it takes at least 3 hours to make the journey, longer on public vehicles as they have to stop to drop and pick up passengers along the way. Many people have resulted to using bicycles, including school children who sometimes have to travel long distances to school. When it rains certain sections of the roads become impassable and the only solution is for vehicles to wait for these to dry up. It is a real travel nightmare over there, and remember, it used to be worse!

When Tharaka opens up, however, as it is already doing with the construction of Chuka-Marimanti road, this will be the place to be in terms of development and commercial activity. Local tourism has a real chance of exploding here. Property prices will hit the roof, and even the peace and quiet of the place will not be spared as more and more people move into the area.

My journey back was not at all easier. We followed the Nkubu road as we were now headed for Meru town, and the stretch between Marimanti and Nkubu turned out to be even worse than the Chuka one. I kept asking how much longer to Nkubu and getting all sorts of non-consoling responses. Eventually though, now already dark though we had left Marimanti at around 3pm, we saw the delightful lights of Nkubu and the blessed sight of a tarmac road.

I was deeply gratified for two reasons: the horrid journey was behind me, and I had fulfilled the adventure of a lifetime by successfully travelling to Tharaka, a feat not many outside the District can lay claim to.

I would definitely love to go back to Tharaka. However NOT during the rainy season. What I’d love to hear more than anything though, is that the two major roads, from Chuka and Nkubu, are fully tarmacked and enjoining ones at least smoothed out. Tharaka deserves this much after so many years of marginalization. Furthermore this would be for the good of the whole country as we open up more areas full of development capability.

I can hardly wait for this beautiful jewel to rise to her full potential and show the world just what lies beneath that seemingly unattractive ore.

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