BEHIND THE SCENES: HAGUE EDITION

Whenever earth shattering news hits the airwaves, we always seem to remember where we were and what we were doing. We tend to sit down afterwards and go over those details. It happened with the assassination of JFK (I was still a glimmer in my parents eyes), September 11th (Random Tuesday in class eight), the 1998 bombings (ushago for a funeral) and the swearing in of Mike Sonko. (curled up on the bathroom floor crying.) So the events of 23rd January are bound to follow the same pattern. Where were you when the ICC judges announced their verdict? I was in the loo...doing errrr...loo-ey things.

The media has had their Christmas and New Year's parties all rolled up into one over the last week. It's been a pretty boring news cycle and even the sinking Italian cruise ship couldn't help.(I'm sure it was orchestrated by the Kenyan media to find something interesting to focus on.) So this was the moment we'd all been waiting for. That moment of anxiety that can only be rivaled by that moment when you take that first bite of ugali to figure kama imeiva.

So at 1.25 pm, the country was hurdled around radios and televisions. Joshua Arap Sang was hurdled around a newspaper. At the Hague, the judges were making their final decisions. It was tough in that little chamber. The wheels of justice were grinding along slowly. Ekaterina Trendafilova (I swear this chic is an escaped convict. There is no way that name is real. No parent can be that mean), tossed the final coin. Heads or tails? She looked at the coin, smiled and then wrote the final verdict. That short dark one is so screwed she mused.


Back in Kenya, yet another journalist fell off the roof of Ruto's house. He giggled. He was kinda getting tired of his meals being broadcast to the whole nation. Uhuru was going over his dad's speech from that Kapenguria six thing. Veve was being passed around Muthaura's house. He was pretty calm. The retired Major General kept polishing his gun. Sang was dozing off. He had lost track of how many times he'd seen himself on tv. And it was time for his afternoon nap. And finally Kosgei was trying to figure out how to import more cars. All six were accounted for.

ICC VERDICT:GFF TUMECHOKA!

Kenya has gone into another frenzy. Pangas are being sharpened and we are all sitting around our radios waiting for word. Our every waking moments...and even some sleepy ones are dedicated to these thoughts of the impending doom and gloom that are coming. Or at least that is what the media would have us think. It's been a full week of ICC previews. The headlines have been so imaginative to go along with this mood set up in the country. Sample some: GSU on Red Alert, Judgement Day, The Hour Of Reckoning and Escape From Transylvania.

Ok so maybe I made up the last one but the point has been made. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Citizen sent Alex Chamwada over to the Hague and the guy has been roaming around the streets trying to send us updates on something that isn't really happening. I can imagine him sitting on some random corner trying to figure out how to twist things so that it doesn't sound like the same drivel he told us the day before.

"Ummm....errrr....today the judges didn't make a ruling but tomorrow they might. Or they might not. And whether or not they do, we will be here ready to bring it to you LIVE!" he says with that self-satisfied smile on his face. In his head all he is thinking about is one more day away from Nairobi. I'd love to know how much Citizen is paying to keep him there. I'm sure he started out in a nice place and with everyday he is being downgraded and by now he must be living in hobo's SQ to save money.

ELECTIONS 2013: NOOOOOOOOO!

Get it? Huh? Huh?

The new and improved judiciary came out with a landmark ruling last week. It made it illegal for guys over 10 to wear supras and the ruling also allowed the cops to shoot individuals who contravene it on site. But the story that made it to the front pages of all the local dailies was this whole thing about the election date.So apparently the court, which is made up of sane people, ruled that we might have elections in 2013. Actually they said a whole lot of stuff that sounded pretty important but the bit that we took away was that we might go to the polls in 2013.

The country reacted in the normal fashion. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth as reporters went around the country seeking the opinions of 'the frontrunners' in the presidential race. They all said something about respecting the rule of law. Sorry I wasn't quite listening. oh and then the other MP's chimed in about how we should respect the constitution because they might get three extra months' salary before we send them back to work on their phot farms. (Think about it. Only stoned people would behave like that). Then that night, Primetime news featured opinion questions like: "2013?" "Tutaweza kweli?" or my personal favourite "WTF?" They picked a sample of the responses and the general reactions were "Tutavukaa border" and "GFF, woiye, acheni mchezo!"

But the realisation is slowly starting to sink in. Like that hot piece of ugali stuck in your throat scorching your gullet as it goes down, things are fiery and thick. But don't be afraid. Actually be a bit afraid. If we have another year to go before the next elections then there are a few things we will have to put up with. And that's where it all goes downhill. If we had a bunch of sober people housed in parliament, then maybe the ruling wouldn't be so bad. But as it is, here is the breakdown of why March 213 polls would cause Kenyans to jump in front of moving trains.

A KENYAN CANCER STORY

Who does this apply to?

I wasn't near a television last night so I missed the news. This morning I woke up to the Kenyan twitterverse bursting with news about Beth Mugo's visit to the United States for cancer treatment. On the bus ride to work I threw in my little barbs on the topic. The irony that the two ministers mandated to cater to the health a whole country had both been struck by cancerous misfortunes. To this point you may sympathize with the individuals. But the moment where that sympathy evaporates like dew in the morning sun is the point where both ministers had to seek treatment beyond our borders.

I'm tempted to throw a fit of righteous anger but then the story changes when I get to the office. On the phone is my colleague and friend. It's just another day in what has been an emotionally and financially draining journey. Her brother was diagnosed with cancer a while ago. I would not claim to understand all the details but he had a form of bone cancer which kept him up at night in pain. My colleague, lets call her G, would show up at work completely worn out from nights spent up to massage her brother's legs so he could catch a few moments of sleep.

In his early 20's, her brother was spending more and more of his time within hospital corridors. Instead of chasing after skirts and enjoying the freedom that comes with university, he was stuck in consultation rooms and going through chemotherapy. His life was being stolen. Then a couple of months ago, some good news came through. He was declared cancer free.G practically waltzed into the office. She was beaming. And what followed were days with her basically floating on air and facebook updates thanking God for the good fortune.

EXCLUSIVE: THE MIGUNA DOSSIER

It’s been an interesting political week. In so many ways we have been lucky because we have had so many distractions such that we have not been treated to the weekly drivel spewed by entities like PNU and ODM. In fact, I’m thinking one reason why the media so relentlessly followed the Nancy Baraza story was so that they wouldn’t have to find out which party William Ruto had migrated to that particular week. I was hoping the ‘gun incident’ would have been more dramatic. That way we would have missed the whole election and focused on whether or not the Deputy CJ should have worn a ski mask and also robbed the guard because she didn’t wanna be felt up.

 Ok so while we are on the topic, I figure the whole issue about having her resign is hogwash. We live in a free country. What kind of world are we in if a woman isn’t allowed to go gangsta on another woman for patting her? It would be chaos. Utter anarchy. I want my kids to grow up knowing it’s cool to put a toothpick in their mouth, turn a gun sideways, wear a durag, grab their crotch and rep their hood.(I’ve seen the CCTV footage. That’s how it went down)

But the man that managed to steal the spotlight from all this was one Miguna Miguna. The man so controversial you have to say his name twice. Statistics in the last week have shown that there were 3425 suicides among the luo community who watched the interview and didn’t feel arrogant enough to live. (Can we please have a moment of silence!...Shhh in the back.This isn’t funny!) The nation is in split about whether Raila took someone else to the prom after promising to go with Miguna or he slept with his date. Either way, there is a dossier and one of our moles got an advance copy. Yes. We have moles. And rats. And other rodents. Point is we have the scoop.

GUIDE TO SURVIVING JANUARY

My holiday season wasn't that great. (Thanks for asking). I spent it looking at a bottle of some very questionable liquid while singing along to the lyrics of songs only heard in serious chic flicks. *Cue the water works* (All by myselffffffff....don't wanna be all by myselffffff....anymore) *sniffs*. Suffice to say it was an odd time of the year for me. Don't be afraid though, I'm seeing a very qualified shrink who is also helping me with this really weird habit I've developed lately. I would tell you but then you would never look at me the same again. lets just say it involves squirrels and a ridiculous need for speed. And two French journalists. And tonnes of oil. I fear i have said too much.

Actual reenactment of me sitting in the office working!

Onwards though. I'm not a fan of the holidays. The genesis of this loathing began twelve years ago. I was thirty five, muscular and had just graduated from Arm Wrestling School. It was a time of happiness and big forearms.*dissolving into fuzzy flashback* Actually it's pretty simple. I grew up watching random kids shows that taught me that Santa only goes to visit good white kids because we don't have chimneys. From then on I vowed to track him down and kill him and his little elves. Anyway while I find Christmas totally pointless, the holiday that takes the cake has to be New Year.


For real. What's up with that? Yay! It's the first of January! Wow this feels like de javu. I wonder when this happened again.  Last freaking year. Same thing happened. This is exactly how my countdown went. It's an actual reenactment. So step back in case you are scared of blood.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six (Really hope the Mayans were right) five, four, three, two, one. Then I closed by eyes tight and started waiting for that tsunami from the movie 2012. Nothing. Then I noticed my watch was ten minutes fast. So while I was safely on the other side, I still had to wait for the stragglers to catch up. Trust Kenyans to be late for a year. The clock strikes midnight (again) and everyone starts going crazy. Kissing here. Hugging there. Groping the wrong butt. (Dude I saw you touch me) And then I'm like congratulations. It's January. You're all screwed!