POLITE NOTICE: KENYA WILL CLOSE DOWN FOR RENOVATIONS SOON

Sometime in August I was busy watching the Olympics games; most of the time asking myself why some of the games are even games in the first place. Well, I am not here to spoil for others knowing very well there are children being fed or taken to school with the proceeds. I was sort of distracted by something that I have taken long to comment about. And this very thing drew my mind back to recounts that I guess millennials reading this may not be able to comprehend or relate.

The year is 1990. I was around 7 years old then. On a typical afternoon you have just left school – those days we would leave school at 12 mid-day for good. We were so bright to want a whole day in school because we fed on our mothers’ milk and so we reasoned like humans and not cow milk for the opposite like is today, and again, remember we sang more than we read. Lunch was always something found within the homestead, say: boiled plantains, boiled arrow roots, boiled sweet potatoes or boiled cassava – everything was boiled which is why today I don’t want someone to bother me with those stories of avoid beef and fatty foods – my childhood carried along enough boiled food to last a life time. If conditions were very favorable you would have strong tea to go with the food – but this wasn’t a guarantee – and being children you would probably get half a cup and dare you complain!

After lunch, automatically you would start playing – just like a reflex. These were good old days – days when you would be around two years, you are playing and somehow something tells you to go and breastfeed, you would just listen to that thing and run to your mum, she would just understand that boob belongs to you and your dad and pull out one for you as she continued to pick vegetables and when you were done you would just leave it like that and run back to play and no one asked you.

During these games, hide and seek, tapo and many others, there would be that ka-girl who knew bad manners before all of you would even know other uses of your dudus. She would be obviously your first cousin or just any other cousin. While you are innocently hiding she would come where you are hiding and out of some wickedness that starts budding in females at such a young age, she would lift her little dress and show you her small panty with flowers all over and lace finishing on the waistline punctuated by a small heart with an arrow running through. Seeing this, first you would be confused and want to raise alarm but somehow there is something in a man however young they are that tells them, ‘you can handle the pressure’. So you just keep quiet and try to concentrate on hiding better. She will not stop. She will move close to you and something inside your little heart will ask you to move too – you will listen to this thing and move. The moment you are holding each other so close that there is nothing between you; not even air, the other kids will burst you guys!

You know that anxiety you feel when you see the sign of alco-blow on Lang’ata road, you feel the same, words fail you, your feeble hands tremble with your little fingers stretched out like branches on leafless trees, and your small prick down there immediately responds to the law of gravity and hangs loose like pods of ripe minji. You want to explain but what will you explain? The other kids are all laughing with tiny faces and huge eyes. Others dressed in loosely fitting t-shirts twice or thrice their size, coupling both as top and pants, some with huge navels sticking out of their torn clothes, others with 123 and ABCD written on their dry legs with a stick, others with red ink from a stolen biro as cutex on their little nails, others with their lips purple from bougainvillea flowers they just used as lipstick. They are all clicking their fingers and threatening to report you.

Usually, they would ask the ka-small girl ‘to give them’ also then they won’t say the two of you. She would agree. Each of them would have a turn and the other small girls would join. It would be a moment of silence and action. You would really look like you are making love but surely there was nothing serious until mum bursts you.

Back to paragraph one.

Whatever surprised me in August, as I was saying, is the court ruling that sex between cousins is now legal in this country. Finally, I got the reason why Hell’s Gate out of all the countries in Sub-Saharan Africa is found in Kenya. But somehow, if you passed through the experiences above, take heart son, your sins have been forgiven, in fact the law says you should be doing the same today without anyone bothering you. Now, Jesus, be real, if you are actually not coming soon as you said 2000 years ago, show us the way, the zealous ones like me can come instead of waiting longer or we just meet somewhere on the way. The court ruling is just a theatrical excursion into the decadence of human dealings – don’t ask me what I mean, I also don’t even know. 

My final plea to the government is that we close down this country for renovations first.

Meanwhile, if Donald Trump looses the election in the US, he can come and vie here with Shebesh or Margaret Wanjiru oh sorry Bishop Margaret as his running mate – they will win by 7am and ‘make Kenya great again!’