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.
