THE PECULIAR KENYAN RELOADED

By Munene Kilongi

 

We swung out of the club one muggy Nairobi night. Magnetic Hip Hop beats still bopping on our heads as we approached the dimly lit parking lot. My friend flashed out his car keys as we got nearer his parking slot. Then he paused a minute behind two cars and bent on his knees looking for something beneath both cars. His facial features on panic mode as his fat fingers disappeared into his brown leather jacket pockets, and then turned his trousers pockets inside out. Puzzled we asked what he was searching for.

“My car!” he said as he keenly rummaged inside his wallet. His car was stolen (though it was recovered two weeks later) but my disbelieving friend got me thinking on how the peculiar Kenyan responds to situations.

Flashback to the March 2013 Presidential elections. The Western press sent out press gangs to capture what was expected to be a bloodbath. The frontrunners were “well-armed” as CNN got fake “shots” of “warriors” performing their daily drills. In other parts of the country fingers were itching for action. Youths were armed with razor sharp machetes to neutralize unreasonable comments, shiny spears to poke holes, knobkerries to suppress misinformation, and poisoned arrows all set to foul their target with their viral content.  As soon as the results of the controversial elections were announced the tribal warriors went for each other’s jugular.

But the eager lenses of the Western press were in for a shock as the violence took an unexpected dimension that also left their hurried news editors — gleefully anticipating pornographic images of bloodshed from Africa — disappointed.  Kenya’s army of tech savvy digital warriors hurled digital spears, machetes, and arrows at each other while lampooning the poor foreign press who had no gory headlines to report. “Armed with a machete and spoons, Kenyan man destroys a plate of rice!” a witty twit suggested. The main victim of our ferocious post-election violence was our computer keyboards that were viciously battered by angry fingers. It’s a valuable lesson on how not to underestimate Africa’s most intelligent people, according to the Intelligent Community Forum which places Nairobi’s adrenaline-addled brains at top 21 globally.

With so many intelligent brains in one place there is bound to be problems. We are normally reserved, polite, and, conscientious, but on idle-mode the peculiar Kenyan is bound to turn into a rapacious and quarrelsome lot that is constantly grumbling and growling at each other over ethnic politics and corruption. Vices they will engage with gusto when enclosed in their tribal cocoons. In this frame of mind it takes an absent-minded entity crossing our path to sober us up to realize “We are One” beautiful family.

South Korea Airways first came calling. Praising our country in a promotional advertisement as a land blessed with “primitive energy.” Followed by the notorious CNN when they aired a bus station bombing with a huge alarmist graphic proclaiming “Violence in Kenya”. Then another ignorant Yankee, American preacher, Pat Robertson advised viewers planning to visit Kenya – on live TV – to be aware that our towels can transmit Aids.

Our battle-hardened keyboard warriors a.k.a Kenyans on Twitter (KOT), a bombastic and witty pack, attacked with such intensity that the hashtags trended globally wringing profuse apologies from the shocked entities completely surprised by the “intelligent” ambush from the “African bush.”

It is in such moments that we transcend our differences and declare loudly: “We-are-One!” But the definition of these rather beautiful words can be confusing. For instance, the past few years Al shabab terrorists have killed and injured scores of poor Kenyans and poorly paid cops in the remote northern Frontier districts that border Somalia. These cowardly acts are usually met by silent murmurs by ordinary Kenyans. Then Westgate, then the country’s most posh mall frequented by the country’s rich was attacked by Al shabab. Scores died. Ordinary Kenyans immediately went into “We-are-One” spirit and fundraised more than a million dollars to pay hospital bills for the wealthiest segment of society.

We love our poor brothers in the Somali border; it’s just that in this money-mad republic we tend to gleefully associate ourselves with anything that’s gold-coated. Blame it on the deep failures of capitalism. It is for these reasons that ordinary Kenyans punish good leaders by electing rich criminals to power then spend the next five years complaining about who has eaten the others goat. The nation is awash with money and it is the blind desire for this commodity that is flowering an abundance of poor geniuses and rich fools.

There are far too many billionaires cat-walking in the streets. Villas and opulent mansions are the new housing trend, increasing numbers of Porsches, Benzes, and jaguars glide in the super highways of this booming economy with shrinking jobs. Some people say we have become a country of 4 trillionaires, 40 billionaires, and 40 million thousandaires.

In this state of affairs there is nothing that tickles our fancy like free things. If a gas tanker tips on our roads the people will loot gas even when the madman-in-the-market threatens to light a fag. It does not mean we’re lazy in fact we are a nation of hardworking people with big dreams and lofty ideals. It’s the libertine hedonism surrounding us that is driving us crazy. We have even stopped dreaming of being rich. We now aspire to be filthy rich. Wet dreams have never been sweeter.

Now this dream has dilated our minds since we always elect leaders who make sure it remains a mirage. It is for this reason we are now under the tight grip of the seductive bosom of get-rich-quick schemes. The pop literature of get-rich-quick feeds the national juices. And it follows that motivational speakers a.k.a pastor, preacher, prophet, who have become hotter than the popular ugali are in high demand. Beer halls, disco halls, open-air market places, public transport, anywhere… has been turned to an arena of hope. Now preachers have conjured a way to make us realize our dreams faster — by turning them into magnificent castles in the air.

They tell the masses their dreams are valid but everyone must first “plant a seed.” Prosperity gospel is the buzz word and its lyrical allure is attracting bigger crowds than popular bands. The deaf hear, blind see, the lame walk, and spellbound crowds break into rapture as the preacherman tightly grips the neck of the microphone and growls like a 100 mad dogs. While the masses are speaking in tongues crying out to Jehovah Jire! Jehovah Sharma! Elohim! The cunning preacherman knows he’s only fulfilling a need. The need by the masses to believe they will miraculously stumble into great wealth. This days Churches even have VIP and premier stands. Mammon is god. Great lies have never had such an eager audience. Sorcery and witchcraft has never been more popular in this Christian nation.

Now our government which is blessed with an ice box for a heart has jumped into the fray and is currently legislating laws to control the Jesus Inc. industry.

Kenya being the cradle of mankind it’s natural that we are also the best runners in the world. But most of us will never have a stab at the international stage so we have created an organic and spontaneous phenomenon known as flash-running.  While on a stroll in Nairobi’s bustling city centre the normally harried sidewalks will occasionally break into waves of hundreds of men and women scampering at high speed while carrying heavy gunny bags and kids strapped on their backs. Relax. It’s the city council guards and street hawkers exercising their freedom to stretch limbs in a daily competition called: “Who’s faster now?”

At the other end of town in the teeming suburbs and market centers an afternoon walk in the sedate neighborhood shopping center might tickle your funny bone as a sudden burst of pure Kenyan legs shoot off the blocks. Some may be running zig zag, others in circles, and others on reverse. Relax. It’s our determined sods running from cops determined to enforce a daytime drinking ban. After flash-running the hawkers and the sods will return and continue with whatever business they were engaged in when the authorities retreat. It is in this small ways that one realizes we are a nation of go-getters.

With this kind of persistence and resilience foreign investors are falling over themselves and pouring money into Africa’s top investment destination. Richard Branson is among other global big shots who have been enchanted by the country as they come running looking for business opportunities while enjoying our nation’s addictive beauty. The warm smiles; the international standards service industry; the sparkling beaches at the coast; world class hotels; stunning landscapes that will take your breath away; and a wildlife safari paradise abundantly blessed by nature you’ll feel the only thing missing is a dinosaur.

As sub-Saharan Africa’s funkiest destination nothing beats a night out schmoozing in the vibrant Nairobi club scene, and sampling an amazing choice of up market restaurants and awesome cuisine. We work hard and also party hard. And nothing can beat the creative Nairobi crowd which always has a new trick.

In fact the latest dancehall craze is called the Mugabe dance. Conjured after the Zimbabwe strongman tripped on a carpet. You only need to strike a pose as if falling to the ground. And in that position shake what your mama gave ya.

 

Note: The Peculiar Kenyan is back from hibernation. Also a big thank you (bows) to the 20,000 peculiar fans from 56 countries who have been keeping it Peculiar Kenyan.

THE PECULIAR KENYAN RELOADED

By Munene Kilongi

We swung out of the club one muggy Nairobi night. Magnetic Hip Hop beats still bopping on our heads as we approached the dimly lit parking lot. My friend flashed out his car keys as we got nearer his parking slot. Then he paused a minute behind two cars and bent on his knees looking for something beneath both cars. His facial features on panic mode as his fat fingers disappeared into his brown leather jacket pockets, and then turned his trousers pockets inside out. Puzzled we asked what he was searching for.

“My car!” he said as he keenly rummaged inside his wallet. His car was stolen (though it was recovered two weeks later) but my disbelieving friend got me thinking on how the peculiar Kenyan responds to situations.

Flashback to the March 2013 Presidential elections. The Western press sent out press gangs to capture what was expected to be a bloodbath. The frontrunners were “well-armed” as CNN got fake “shots” of “warriors” performing their daily drills. In other parts of the country fingers were itching for action. Youths were armed with razor sharp machetes to neutralize unreasonable comments, shiny spears to poke holes, knobkerries to suppress misinformation, and poisoned arrows all set to foul their target with their viral content.  As soon as the results of the controversial elections were announced the tribal warriors went for each other’s jugular.

But the eager lenses of the Western press were in for a shock as the violence took an unexpected dimension that also left their hurried news editors — gleefully anticipating pornographic images of bloodshed from Africa — disappointed.

Kenya’s army of tech savvy digital warriors hurled digital spears, machetes, and arrows at each other while lampooning the poor foreign press who had no gory headlines to report. “Armed with a machete and spoons, Kenyan man destroys a plate of rice!” a witty twit suggested. The main victim of our ferocious post-election violence was our computer keyboards that were viciously battered by angry fingers. It’s a valuable lesson on how not to underestimate Africa’s most intelligent people, according to the Intelligent Community Forum which places Nairobi’s adrenaline-addled brains at top 21 globally.

With so many intelligent brains in one place there is bound to be problems. We are normally reserved, polite, and, conscientious, but on idle-mode the peculiar Kenyan is bound to turn into a rapacious and quarrelsome lot that is constantly grumbling and growling at each other over ethnic politics and corruption. Vices they will engage with gusto when enclosed in their tribal cocoons. In this frame of mind it takes an absent-minded entity crossing our path to sober us up to realize “We are One” beautiful family.

South Korea Airways first came calling. Praising our country in a promotional advertisement as a land blessed with “primitive energy.” Followed by the notorious CNN when they aired a bus station bombing with a huge alarmist graphic proclaiming “Violence in Kenya”. Then another ignorant Yankee, American preacher, Pat Robertson advised viewers planning to visit Kenya – on live TV – to be aware that our towels can transmit Aids.

Our battle-hardened keyboard warriors a.k.a Kenyans on Twitter (KOT), a bombastic and witty pack, attacked with such intensity that the hashtags trended globally wringing profuse apologies from the shocked entities completely surprised by the “intelligent” ambush from the “African bush.”

It is in such moments that we transcend our differences and declare loudly: “We-are-One!” But the definition of these rather beautiful words can be confusing. For instance, the past few years Al shabab terrorists have killed and injured scores of poor Kenyans and poorly paid cops in the remote northern Frontier districts that border Somalia. These cowardly acts are usually met by silent murmurs by ordinary Kenyans. Then Westgate, then the country’s most posh mall frequented by the country’s rich was attacked by Al shabab. Scores died. Ordinary Kenyans immediately went into “We-are-One” spirit and fundraised more than a million dollars to pay hospital bills for the wealthiest segment of society.

We love our poor brothers in the Somali border; it’s just that in this money-mad republic we tend to gleefully associate ourselves with anything that’s gold-coated. Blame it on the deep failures of capitalism. It is for these reasons that ordinary Kenyans punish good leaders by electing rich criminals to power then spend the next five years complaining about who has eaten the others goat. The nation is awash with money and it is the blind desire for this commodity that is flowering an abundance of poor geniuses and rich fools.

There are far too many billionaires cat-walking in the streets. Villas and opulent mansions are the new housing trend, increasing numbers of Porsches, Benzes, and jaguars glide in the super highways of this booming economy with shrinking jobs. Some people say we have become a country of 4 trillionaires, 40 billionaires, and 40 million thousandaires.

In this state of affairs there is nothing that tickles our fancy like free things. If a gas tanker tips on our roads the people will loot gas even when the madman-in-the-market threatens to light a fag. It does not mean we’re lazy in fact we are a nation of hardworking people with big dreams and lofty ideals. It’s the libertine hedonism surrounding us that is driving us crazy. We have even stopped dreaming of being rich. We now aspire to be filthy rich. Wet dreams have never been sweeter.

Now this dream has dilated our minds since we always elect leaders who make sure it remains a mirage. It is for this reason we are now under the tight grip of the seductive bosom of get-rich-quick schemes. The pop literature of get-rich-quick feeds the national juices. And it follows that motivational speakers a.k.a pastor, preacher, prophet, have become hotter than the popular ugali. Beer halls, disco halls, open-air market places, public transport, anywhere… has been turned to an arena of hope. Now preachers have conjured a way to make us realize our dreams faster — by turning them into magnificent castles in the air.

They tell the masses their dreams are valid but everyone must first “plant a seed.” Prosperity gospel is the buzz word and its lyrical allure is attracting bigger crowds than popular bands. The deaf hear, blind see, the lame walk, and spellbound crowds break into rapture as the preacherman tightly grips the neck of the microphone and growls like a 100 mad dogs. While the masses are speaking in tongues crying out to Jehovah Jire! Jehovah Sharma! Elohim! The cunning preacherman knows he’s only fulfilling a need. The need by the masses to believe they will miraculously stumble into great wealth. This days Churches even have VIP and premier stands. Mammon is god. Great lies have never had such an eager audience. Sorcery and witchcraft has never been more popular in this Christian nation.

Now our government which is blessed with an ice box for a heart has jumped into the fray and is currently legislating laws to control the Jesus Inc. industry.

Kenya being the cradle of mankind it’s natural that we are also the best runners in the world. But most of us will never have a stab at the international stage so we have created an organic and spontaneous phenomenon known as flash-running.  While on a stroll in Nairobi’s bustling city centre the normally harried sidewalks will occasionally break into waves of hundreds of men and women scampering at high speed while carrying heavy gunny bags and kids strapped on their backs. Relax. It’s the city council guards and street hawkers exercising their freedom to stretch limbs in a daily competition called: “Who’s faster now?”

At the other end of town in the teeming suburbs and market centers an afternoon walk in the sedate neighborhood shopping center might tickle your funny bone as a sudden burst of pure Kenyan legs shoot off the blocks. Some may be running zig zag, others in circles, and others on reverse. Relax. It’s our determined sods running from cops determined to enforce a daytime drinking ban. After flash-running, the hawkers and the sods will return back and continue with whatever business they were engaged in when the authorities finally retreat. It is in this small ways that one realizes we are a nation of go-getters.

With this kind of persistence and resilience foreign investors are falling over themselves and pouring money into Africa’s top investment destination. Richard Branson is among other global big shots who have been enchanted by the country as they come running looking for business opportunities while enjoying our nation’s addictive beauty. The warm smiles; the international standards service industry; the sparkling beaches at the coast; world class hotels; stunning landscapes that will take your breath away; and a wildlife safari paradise abundantly blessed by nature you’ll feel the only thing missing is a dinosaur.

As sub-Saharan Africa’s funkiest destination nothing beats a night out schmoozing in the vibrant Nairobi club scene, and sampling an amazing choice of up market restaurants and awesome cuisine. We work hard and also party hard. And nothing can beat the creative Nairobi crowd which always has a new trick.

In fact the latest dancehall craze is called the Mugabe dance. Conjured after the Zimbabwe strongman tripped on a carpet. You only need to strike a pose as if falling to the ground. And in that position shake what your mama gave ya.

Note: The Peculiar Kenyan is back from hibernation. A big Thank You (bows) goes out to  the 20,000 peculiar fans from 56 countries who have been keeping it Peculiar Kenyan.