Where are you From?
[Aside] Long post ahead grab a drink [/Aside]
I blogged about the myriads that graced the motherland this past holiday not too long ago. Well, this past weekend my boy T and I revisited the issue. On discussion this time around was his utter contempt and disgust at Kenyan tourists (KT’s) strutting their stuff in the motherland acting as if they were upper class hi-rollers while on the real the image they projected had absolutely and positively nothing to do with their lifestyle where they are “from”. He was particularly perturbed by (and for the sake of relevance here I am forced to name a certain lot) people from Boston. While drowning the good brew with friends he grew up with, a gent who makes his home in Boston had the audacity to introduce himself as “XXX from Boston”. According to T, who cares?
Surely the after-effects of a few tusker malt lagers had more to do with his agitation, he unblinkingly blurted out, “No you’re not, dude you’re from Thika, I know your old man, Boston is where you scoop poop out of old people’s homes for a living.” His satisfaction at seeing the individual scurry away couldn’t be more. He recalled an encounter whereby, while watching the pre-game ceremonies for a sporting event, the obligatory singing of the US national anthem elicited a remark from a gent across that “this was his national anthem and he didn’t even know the words”. According to him, this comment was meant to assure the rest of the people in the room that the dude was a US Citizen and not a Kenyan citizen. He got into a long diatribe about Kenyans, how most are loosely tied to their culture and are almost begging to abandon their roots. I have to say it was interesting.
A friend who works for Kenya Airways commented about this in a more subtle way, he recalled how his friends would fly back to the country, wallets full of dollars with reservations to Maasai Mara while their families continued to live in the same dilapidated housing projects they grew up in. “If they are such ballers, maybe they should improve the living conditions of their families, buy their old man a decent house instead of trying to impress us with trips to the Mara ” he pointed out, “it’s almost embarrassing, really”. I agree.
Unrelated musing: Kenyan Broad Based Organizations.
Kenyans present quite interesting points of view, in terms of how we view life. I spoke to a young Kenyan professor whose enthusiasm about Kenyans in the diaspora blew me away. He had just completed his PhD program at Duke University and accepted a position at Texas A&M University. His enthusiasm rubbed off on me, particularly so because he had assembled a group of other Kenyans and started a fund for college sponsorships for those unable to pay. He was willing to take on a problem which he indicated continues to fester yet is not being addressed by organizations such as the one he had formed this group under. This was about a year ago, the organization had barely gotten off the ground but plans were grand. There were 8 different committees and amongst them some subcommittees. Membership to this organization was $90 a year. A website was up and running, we submitted our information and waited to be contacted in order to sign up. I have not heard from them since. I was frowned upon when I suggested they reduce the size of the organization, an enthusiastic lady (who also offered to do my Taxes and readily handed me her business card) referred me to the chairman who dismissed my issue saying that this was a broad based organization and it needed to be big in order to deal with these issues. It dawned on me later that these organizations are being used as a political means to an end, that somehow the people who run these organizations look to gain from the exposure and ‘support’ from the diaspora and use them as stepping stones to a career in Kenyan politics down the road. Suffice it to say, the professor’s noble intentions were broadsided by political inclination of the few that head the organization. I come to the conclusion that Kenyans have no solidarity apart from when there is a promise of free beer and endless gallivanting.
Makeover
I have contemplated a makeover for this site for the longest time but I had trouble choosing a theme. This is largely because I needed to identify what this site is all about and what I want it to be. One would have thought a few years online and I should have figured it out but I still can’t. To me it has been a repository for ideas, music, musings and the odd joke. The other thing I had trouble selecting is color; I have developed a healthy liking for red but it seems a bit much. Since I wasn’t able to compromise on this, I settled on a theme that lets you, the reader, choose the background. By clicking on any one of the colored boxes at the top, you can change the background to suit (one of) your (many) needs. The color selections and wallpapers are good quality, so whatever floats your boat. 
Oh and Happy Valentines Baby girl.
Solutions
Rubik’s cube. The bane of my existence. I have attempted on numerous occasions to solve it yet I fail each time. Each attempt is a reminder that I am not as smart as I think and that smart people roam these very streets and I am not one of them. My problem has become so bad that I can no longer find it in me to even get the same color on one side. I am almost resigned to the fact that solving rubiks’s cube is not one of my ‘many talents’ but still I get myself trying to solve the dang thing. Futility or nirvana, the struggle continues.
These struggles with the cube seem to mirror my personal conflict on the philosophy of helping people. When is enough actually enough? Should we continue to help even though our help is a big part of the problem? Should you lend a hand each time in an attempt to solve a problem, thus you becoming part of it? My view is that problems exist and solutions abound, but not all solutions address the problem, rather they create a situation where resultant effects of these problems are not felt, but the same problems fester. Issues such as drug trafficking, murder, you name it – does incarceration really address the problem? How many second and third time offenders end up in the same cellblocks and jailhouses for these same crimes? How has the punishment (our solution), addressed the problem?
“Life Is Hard.”
Buddha
I understand there will be various arguments and points of views as to what society believes but sill the question continues. Picture a situation where an alcoholic is checked into a rehab facility, completes the program, goes back to the streets, relapses, you send them back to the rehab – completes another stint, relapses again and the cycle continues. I grapple with this – is the person who continually sends the alcoholic to rehab part of the solution? If the alcoholic cannot find it in him/her to check themselves into rehab and stick with the program, what good is the noble soul that continues to send this person to rehab doing? Are you not part of the problem? You making choices for him/her makes them relinquish their ability to do just that, thus they will never understand what it takes to make a concious life-changing decision. In essence you are a big part of the problem! That’s just how I see it. Have a great weekend!
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About
Magaidi.com is the journal of the African kid. A diary of sorts, a collection of musings and a discussion point on the way forward for the motherland.
