The Real Hard Working Kenyans Who Never Complain!

The past four months have been quiet hard for ordinary Kenyans. A recent report released paint Kenya as the saddest place to live on earth. But so what? The economy, the appreciating dollar, the weakening shilling, the high fuel and food prices, constant strikes and demonstrations, the useless politicians et al have pushed families, as the journalist would say, to the edge of despair. How one can remain on that edge for five months without falling off is anyone’s guess.

So fuel prices have gone up? Those who own cars are not complaining. Food prices have skyrocketed? Still commodities literally fly off the shelves. Apparently everyone in Kenya is underpaid. Strikes have become the norm. Still the real hard working Kenyans are not complaining. City residents are not complaining!

I love Kenya. It is a beautiful country with hard working resilient people who despite the economic crunch still manage to survive. They live in gated communities with 24 hour security from the British owned G4S. They hear of insecurity when BBC or CNN reports of a series of carjacking in the country. Their vehicles are protected and satellite-monitored by Track It. They would sometimes read in the Daily Nation of killings and violence. On a normal afternoon, they usually enjoy the monsoon windy breeze from the second floor balcony of their homes sipping a scotch whisky imported from the UK. They are fully subscribed to the full bouquet of DSTV and they pay an annual subscription in dollars. The US presidential debates are never missed. If they are busy, they will have it recorded.

They import top of the range vehicles from Japan and don immaculate Imani suits from Turkey. Their women spot top designer dresses fresh from Milan or New York Fashion shows. They would have Christian Dior Fur coats, Jimmy Choos shoes, Gucci handbags and Channel sunglasses. They still attend high end parties at Cray Fish Camp in Naivasha and the older ones prefer conservative locations like Windsor. They still drink expensive 15 year old vintage drinks straight from Scottish cellars and wineries.

They own companies or are top dogs in the civil service. The titles from their business cards are CEO, CFO or COO. The lowly among the group would be GMs or EDs. Some work for the UN, Care International or World Vision. The flight mileage is impressive. Then there are the wealthy businessmen! They are the only group referred as such in the country. If you own a successful business and you are not of this group the press would refer to you as a city trader or a popular businessman. Never wealthy! That term was for the few

Their children attend international schools in Kenya. They have to be exposed to the international market they would say. Plus it gave them something to talk about and an opportunity to meet during school plays and art galleries. Notable schools would be Braeburn, Brookhouse and possibly Hillcrest. After such exposure they would never send their kids to Nairobi or Maseno University. Between the lecturer’s strike and students’ unrest chances of their children finishing university at the acceptable international age of 21 years are slim. The UK is the only chance of quality and competitive education. Notable institutions include the famous triad: Oxford, Cambridge or LSE where they too attended and are in the convocation team. For a countryside feel, University of Manchester is an option where an old friend is the MP or Leeds University where his brother emigrated immediately after the coup in 1982.

 During weekends, especially Saturdays, you will see men in shorts and open shoes, gold chains and rings  with Chanel sunglasses and car keys dangling from their hands at Olepolos in Ngong roasting goat meat watching Manchester United devour Arsenal. Along the dusty road an array of heavy machinery would be parked. From Range Rovers to Mark II’s, Mercedes Benz to Audis. An odd Subaru would be spotted but rare is the spectacle. Often times the Subaru would have a number plate without a letter after the numbers: KYY 321. A vintage they would call it. It was gift from the British colonial secretary to the grandfather whose will dictated it remains in the family. The dons would be spotted dropping in with choppers with news reporters in tow. Sometimes they would all troop to the coast and detoxify after a week of hard work building the nation. Of course they would never drive down to the coast. Fuel prices have skyrocketed. They would fly with Fly 540 where they have a stake. They would never fly with Jet Link. They lack a full bar onboard they say. International flights are of course KLM or Qatar Airways. Kenya Airways services are poor.

Tired of travelling out of town, they would all troop to the private members clubs or the golf resorts in the city. Never would you see them tee off at the greens, they would be in the study discussing a matter of national importance. Of course the appreciating shilling and how to mitigate that. The top bankers would be invited to shed light on the same: How to beat the system, how to make a kill and things like that. The banker is not part of the group, he is simply an invited guest and he would be too eager to please after being served drinks worth his suit. When spotted at the lawns, either the sun is beautiful and they need to bask or there is a championship organized by one of their companies and they had to make an appearance.

Women would be in more serene and peaceful suburbia like Karen or Muthaiga either attending a chama meeting or in spas and beauty parlors getting pimped for the week.  Massage, manicures, pedicures, facials and scrubbing would be the norm of course with wine tasting. They would take time to update themselves on their social circle. Like who flew to Dubai for shopping, who went to China on the Barclays Bank business trip, who was it who is having an affair with his gardener. Precious times they call it. It was a ritual actually. No one misses such gatherings at the spa which was owned by one of them. Even if they did not need a facial, they still came. Little children were left at the day care that charged 2, 500 an hour. The meetings at the spa took no less than 6 hours.

Their children, who had either finished masters in Cambridge or are awaiting admission, would be spotted in high end restaurants with top of the range vehicles. Mostly it would be a convertible sports car or a Hummer with loud music blaring. During the night, they would hang out in groups of course drinking either a Malibu or a J & B. The conservatives among them, those still in school, would be seen with a Blue Label or in the extreme cases a Scotch and Soda. At dawn, they would race back home. With no traffic, the need to practice rally driving become strong. Normally the city does not provide such opportunities and going upcountry is out of the question. There is school and yes the city. Sometimes they would cause an accident but normally it would be reported as a minor incident. In very rare cases they would get into a fight and maybe shoot each other. Daring acts can be drawing of a Persian sword 2,000 years old whose brightness alone can make you go blind.

Sometimes the boys would go out of town. In Malindi or Naivasha. They would go as usual in a group. In the middle of the night in Lake Naivasha, they would form a circle with their loud music blaring cars with the headlights on and dance while drinking. Normally they would be in the company of ladies beneath their social status. You will hear of a Shiro, Wamboi or Njeri. You will never see their sisters in that group. The girls are of course abroad studying or holidaying. Their families know each other; they can never date themselves unless it is marriage bound which is arranged of course.

On Sunday husband and wife will get into matching gears with small kids in tow, often a boy and girl, troop into the car and head to church. The older kids would not be in the company. They are either nursing hangovers or injuries or both. Normally the service would be along Valley Road. Conservatives would go to conservative churches. The Baptist Church along Ngong Road or the ACK. The message that day would be about spoiling yourself, because you deserve it, they would say. They never carry bibles, what for and iPads have bible applications. It was faster and efficient. With an iPad in hand, and for those who cannot afford, the projector would be live with bible verses, your work is to listen to the word. Thank God for the iPad, how would we have known where Habakkuk was in the bible? Is it in the New or Old Testament they would ask. Who cares, iPad rule.

In the afternoon they would visit each other to check on the family. Normally a calendar is drawn for that. One would know 2 months in advance that he would be hosting a Sunday get together. Chances are there are no relatives among the clan. Just friends who met in London while studying or in the civil service where they worked their way up. The younger generation present would be those who married within the clan because he was an Oxford surgeon and she was Harvard economist. Chances are they do not live in the country but just flew in for the afternoon meeting. The clan is important.

The conversation would be about the prime property in Kiambu that needs to be developed, the economic prospects of Uchumi supermarket and the court case surrounding the coastal land that a rogue Italian wants to erect a multibillion hotel. They would never allow it. Apparently the hotel would block the sun from accessing the Villa Park Resort that they own as a clan. They also claim it would block the view of the ocean from the balcony of the resort. The sitting judge for the case is the current chairperson for the clan and has a major stake in the resort through his companies of course.

After the meeting, they would troop back home for another week of nation building after promising to meet the next weekend.

Forget the striking doctors or lecturers who earn peanuts, these are the real hard working Kenyans who work tirelessly work for the nation and they never complain!

THE NIGHT BEFORE NEW YEAR

It was at 12:02 AM on the 1st of January 2011, seated with my brother Brian, his friend Victor and my friend Beverly at a private booth in Lisbon club in Kisii town I remember using my phone to write the resolutions for this year. Ok, they stole the phone 20 minutes later but I still remember the resolutions. The night had gone on well with Nyambane the popular comedian and now corporate honcho dropped by to say hello. We had met earlier and he had promised to ‘treat’ us. Treating he did, two chilled bottles of Drostdy Hof Merlot count as that. He was calling it a night, or morning, depending on whether you are an optimist or pessimist and he came to wish us well in the New Year. We thanked him for the ‘treat’ and promised to return the favor. He smiled, we did too. I think we all knew that it may never come to pass. If we bump into him this New Year again, he will still treat us, it’s been a year since we met.

It was my last year of college, actually my last semester. It was to be a different year for me. As an optimist, it looked promising. I had a trip to Tanzania to organize for our graduating class, I had a paper for a conference to write, I had a paper for a conference to present, I had a school to train for Drama Festivals, I had a training to attend in Equatorial Guinea, I had a conference to attend in Nairobi, I had…. OK not all of that was apparent at that wee hour of the morning, but most of it was. It was totally my year and I was going to rock it.

So for the first time, I broke away from the norm and made actual and practical resolutions. I never went for the classic resolutions: to write a book, climb a mountain, learn a foreign language, enjoy life more (what the hell!), and visit relatives’ bla bla bla. No, I chose to be philosophical, to be earthy, and to be me.
This is what I typed in that particular Nokia 2630 Classic which those goons helped themselves with. I like to think that phone was my New Year’s gift to them. It’s amazing, considering the time and place, I still remember all the resolutions... Ok most: Get a girlfriend; write her sweet notes, text her lovey dovey texts. This was important for my future political career. I knew it would pay off later. I promised to be nice to people, especially ladies. Again, for my political prospects I needed this. It was not that they were to be my support base or I was not nice at the moment; no I wanted to practice early in life.

This was my last year in college, I needed to study hard. I have been studying all along, but my people have a saying that the pot usually breaks at the door. I wanted a first class degree, because I wanted a car. I had made a pact with my parents, with my siblings being witnesses, that if I get a first class degree I am getting a new ride.

It isn’t cool, I wrote, not to have money in the pocket or at the bank. Ok HELB gave me some coins that were not enough by the way, I needed more. Despite the fact I never used that money to pay school or accommodation fees. Here is why: While I was about to sit my national examinations in 2005, I made a pact (again) with my parents. If I qualify to the university, they are paying for everything, including my semester shopping and the government loan was all mine to impress women and enjoy life. I held my end of the bargain, they did too. But my ambitions were higher. So in 2011, I promised myself to have at least 4 very close friends who can lend me an incredible amount of cash without having to know why I need it. It was business, I reasoned.

For my political career and safe survival once out of the university, I needed new and powerful contacts that would come to my rescue without having to call my parents. Reading Robert Greene’s ’48 Laws of Power’ taught me the power of the right people at the right time. I must know at least one of each of the following, and on very good and personal terms. A senior police officer, the local chief, a magistrate, a lawyer, a doctor, a proprietor of a good bar, someone who works for customs and or immigration. A police officer would come in handy if I get arrested most probably at night while out clubbing. Also if a close friend is in trouble. All politics is local, never underestimate the local chief. His services would come in handy during government activities. He is the man to watch. The magistrate was incase my lawyer friend fails to get me out of trouble. In politics you have to look at all angles. A good doctor is obvious and more so if I contract such ailments that my parents needed not to know. A bar owner was necessary if I am to treat my local boys with the usual and am low on cash. My book needed to be open. Someone in customs and immigration were necessary for reasons best left unsaid. This is Kenya and yes you have to do what you have to do.

Finally, I had to be true to myself. I can’t make everyone happy, I can’t live for anyone, not even Dad, Mum or my siblings. One final resolution: God is important. I won’t live forever. One day I will have to justify my life to Him. Well this last resolution has been constant in my annual resolutions for as long I can remember. And I have been doing well so far.

So on this chilly and drizzling evening seated at the counter of Tanagers restaurant chatting up the Chinese (or Thai, I can’t tell) owner, I look back at the year past. Indeed it has been a great year, totally my year. The highlights were the contacts I got and still retain.

I was friends and still am good friends with a very senior police officer. Funny story how we met. My elder was nabbed for ‘aimless loitering at ungodly hours’ and my Dad and I had gone to bail him out the next morning. Apparently the swoop was ordered by the Officer Commanding Station (OCS) and he supervised it himself never mind at such ungodly hours. He was new in town. So we had to go to his office. He ordered my Frank, my brother, to be brought to his office and started lecturing him on how irresponsible it is to walk at night. I thought he meant dangerous but I never dared ask. My Dad naturally sided with the officer and even suggested caning my brother. The officer asked who I was and if am in school. I told him Frank’s follower brother and am in the university. His face lit up and asked which university. Moi University, I said. He stood up smiling while asking which campus. I told him and the rest they say is history. Apparently his daughter had been admitted to my university and being new in town he wished to know someone who would guide he daughter in the harsh life that is the university. ‘Guiding’ her I did. We became friends since. I have never been arrested while at home and neither of my friends has. One time my younger brother’s friends were home and they got arrested. I was not home, I cannot remember where. Brian called me and told me of the situation. Being at night, I could not call the OCS but I called Linda, her daughter. As expected they were released in the morning. Let them have a jail experience for the night, father told daughter who told me. Every time I am home we meet over drinks. Despite my parent’s objection, he was the only ‘family friend’ who attended my graduation. I am serious about networks you know.

The local chief is always on my speed dial. How I met him I cannot recall. But we are friends.

I have several lawyer friends who double up as childhood or simply hood friends. But I was not too particular about them. I do not trust friends too much. Trust everyone only so much. Only get betrayed once, Daddy tells me always. So I have a few lawyers on my side. A very wise man once said good lawyers know the law but only great lawyers know the judge. I will be smarter if I knew a magistrate or too. I met the local magistrate at a party I was invited by the OCS in May. The officer’s eldest son was flying out of the country for further studies. Justice John Omondi was his name. A very dignified fellow. After the party, the seniors retreated to the local club for a few drinks. Since a magistrate was among them, how could I miss the opportunity? Justice Ochieng, I knew would be a great friend once we engaged in a conversation on the judicial system in Kenya. Plus he had my taste of drinks too: Gin and Tonic on the rocks and a dash of lemon. Let’s just say the good Justice liked to have a drink while engaging in an intellectual conversation. I supplied both, and still do. The lawyer and magistrate have not been useful so far. I have not been involved in any crime or felony. I am hoping not be in one but I feel secure knowing am covered.

I have a doctor friend and for obvious reasons. I am in the good books of a few local bar owners. They have both come in handy and so far so good.

I got a guy, actually guys, who worked in the customs and immigration during the Tanzania trip. It was not easy though. We arrived at the border at 11 am and we could have crossed had it not been for the fact that we did not have Yellow Fever certificates and it was a public holiday. I had mine, thanks to my doctor friend and a few of us had them but majority did not. The alternative was to sleep at the border and get the injection and certificate at 8 am in the morning, the guy behind the counter advised us. Hospitals do not open during holidays. We had to wait. At noon his shift ended and while preparing to leave we asked him of a nice pub we could hang out, drink a little, watch football reruns and maybe dance. We had the whole day and night at the border. His face lit up, probably thinking that he could get a few beers from college boys. He was right on that. He knew a great place, he said. He would take us. So we went and though it was not a great place, it was fine: cheap Tanzanian beer, great taraab music and bewitching beauties on the dance floor and during the day! My friends got enchanted by them and off they scurried to the dance floor. I had a resolution to accomplish. I ordered beer for all of us. It was 1500 Tanzanian shillings. That was 75 Kenyan shillings, half the price in Kenya. We actually reserved a waiter for our table. We had money after all we were Kenyans.
We drank beer, talked over things I cannot remember and danced. Benard, the customs guy, was a great talker and dancer too. Looking at him at the dance floor I imagined it must have been long since he danced. Well he was married, he had commitments I assumed. At around 2 pm, three guys with suits came into the bar and set next to us. Judging by their demeanor, they were Kenyans and were important people. They ordered Tusker, a Kenyan beer and I smiled to myself. I was seated with my back at them and being drunk I felt I needed to chat up the guys. I was Kenyan too. You should try Kilimanjaro, Tanzanian beer, I told them. It dances seductively in the mouth and has a crispy taste, I added intentionally. They smiled and the big one asked how much it was. Great start, I thought and told them the price. He chuckled. I called over our waiter and told her to bring these guys a round of Kilimanjaro on our tab and to cancel the other one they had placed. I expected them to object but they did not.

My friends came over and I introduced them to the men in suits. Then Benard came from the rest room and he froze when he saw the guys. He knew them but they did not obviously know him and he refused to sit down. He excused himself and left after I took his number. Then I had no idea why. The men did not even notice him and they liked the beer too so Benard was forgotten. The bigger one, and richer judging by his rotund face and gold ring on his finger, suggested we sit on the same table asked what we were doing in a bar. I explained our situation and they nodded and looked at themselves. Why you haven’t been vaccinated, the bald one asked. Yellow Fever is a serious ailment, he added. Actually we have been vaccinated but we do not have the certificates to show, I lied. No need to be honest about everything. How, the bigger one asked. Taking cue from my lie Joseph picked it up, as a University rule, we cannot be admitted without being vaccinated for Yellow Fever, Measles, Chicken Pox and all those. So yes we have been vaccinated but we have not been given the certificate, he finished. The bald guy nodded. That is true, he said, my son was admitted to Kenyatta University and he too was vaccinated in school. The bigger one just nodded. The other guy smiled and asked if we can verify that. We had a university doctor in our entourage, which was the rule too. They all nodded.

We ordered for more drinks and chatted over the Kenyan constitution, the politicians and the economy. They asked about why we like to stone cars whenever we strike and we told them we were extending the tradition they started. They laughed. The other guy who had remained silent all along laughed the more and said he remembers stoning a few cars himself. We laughed again and ordered more beer.

At around 4 pm the bigger guy asked if we have a place to sleep. We laughed. We are college students, we will sleep in the bus, I said. They laughed too, they have done it before. The bigger one asked if we knew who they were. We said no. Apparently they were senior immigration officials from Nairobi who were part of an advance team that was waiting for the Minister of Immigration who is to open a new office. I read that in the papers I told them. He asked if we would like to continue with our journey….

To cut a long story short, 30 minutes later, 3 short calls on their part, frantic calls on our part to locate the rest of the students, and 3 business cards in my wallet we were well on our way to Arusha drunk but happy. They picked our bills too. The bigger guy, Mr. Omondi is the Chief Immigration Officer, Mr. Koech the bald guy is the Assistant Chief Immigration Officer and Mr. Kazungu is the Principal Immigration Officer (East Africa Region). What more could a soon to be university graduate ask.Never mind we became instant heroes while in the bus.

So yes I have achieved most of my resolutions, some I did not through no fault of my own. Take the example of the pact I had with my folks. I held my end of the bargain and got a first class degree. Need I say my parents did not! Apparently the economy is not doing pretty well. So I do not have a car not because of my fault or my parent’s. It was because of the Government. I blame the government! Another example was my desire to get a girlfriend and shower her with little sweet notes and texts. I got a girlfriend all right, though it never worked out. For some reason, she thought the sweet notes were creepy and girly. Look at the irony. Here I was trying to be William Levy and all not because I believed it but because I had to accomplish my goal but she rebuffed me. At least I tried. I don’t blame myself, I blame her. She had me and she could not handle me. On the other goal of being nice to ladies, well the jury is still out. I am not saying am not popular with the opposite sex, au contraire. I was in the drama and music team in high school, which explains everything.

2011 is going down in 16 days time. I am to write new resolutions again. Hopefully I have 16 days to go. I want to spend these days to reflect on my past year.

Yes I have done crazy things, which had it not been for my friends I would never have done them. I do not regret for they made me smile. Like taking an acquaintance’s car and driving all night with friends while she was asleep (How she trusted us, gave us her car and requested us to drive her home because she was drunk I have no idea) and returning it in the morning; crashing into a wedding pretending we were the groom’s party just for the food; Harassing motorists while on a college outing; staying up all night drinking then calling random guys in the hostels with threatening messages. They were stupid but fun. One guy actually offered to send us money if we do not tell her girlfriend that he was cheating on her.

The year has been kind to me. God indeed has been good to me. I have no reason to complain. Oh well I do not have a car but what the f**k. Sorry God!

I will meet Nyambane again while writing my 2012 New Year resolutions while seated with my brother Brian, his friend Victor and my friend Beverly at a private booth in Lisbon club in Kisii town.

Eddie Ombagi

Thoughts of An Educated Fool: If Tomorrow Never Comes

People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learnt never to underestimate someone's capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each person when faced with death experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every person finds their peace before they departed though, every one of them.


When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.


2. I wish I didn't work so hard.

This comes from males mostly. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the females who say this had not been breadwinners. All of the men deeply regret spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.


3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

Many people suppress their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settle for a mediocre existence and never become who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.


4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.


5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

This is a surprisingly common one. Many do not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called 'comfort' of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.

When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.
My desire is to travel the world, live free, meet Chinua Achebe and simply smile at the sun and gaze at the sunset!.


Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, and choose honestly. Choose happiness.

Ed