Of Judges and Green Aprons....

Since the new constitution was auspiciously promulgated, Kenya has been on a fever of change. For a long time Kenya had been run in a way that left a lot to be desired and finally the new constitution ushered an avenue for change and reforms to be nurtured. This long awaited constitution has inspired Kenyans hope more than any other occasion or ever done. It was quite a heartwarming moment when the old judicial guard started to pave way for a new command. It was especially captivating for Kenyans to watch candidates get grilled on Live television, this was a sign that accountability was starting to penetrate our systems. For the first time ever Kenyans were indulged in transparent public vetting and appointment, marvelous.

To many the old "Costume" was a vestigial remnant of the colonial heritage. Some members of the Justice system had rather unkind words for it...The most notable flaw is that it looked more like an apron, It lacked the stature and majestic appeal that should epitomize Judicial attire. To say the least, It was Hideous and embarrassing, I reckon the Judges should seek an embarrassment allowance for wearing those "green petticoats".

Finally after the rigorous process was concluded things settled down and Kenyans expected work. For a while things were a bit subliminal and the changes were imperceptible save for the new faces and different rhetoric. Then recently things started emerging and most notable was the new Judicial costume. For the longest while Kenyan Judges had worn the old and faithful wigs and red robes. These of course were inherited from the British. To many the old "Costume" was a vestigial remnant of the colonial heritage. Some members of the Justice system had rather unkind words for it. After a Judges colloquium in Mombasa the Chief Justice Willy Mutunga a 47 page paper titled "DRESSING AND ADDRESSING THE KENYAN JUDICIARY". This paper paved way for a panel to bring up a new Judicial attire.

In the first ever convening of the Supreme court Kenyans were introduced to the new Judicial attire. It was shock and awe and I am not saying it was spectacular, No! It was rather rudimentary. To begin with it was green and a rather dull green. Something Close to the AHS jersey green and as many Alliance high School students would agree, the AHS jerseys were not the most appealing item of dressing. The most notable flaw is that it looked more like an apron, It lacked the stature and majestic appeal that should epitomize Judicial attire. To say the least, It was Hideous and embarrassing, I reckon the Judges should seek an embarrassment allowance for wearing those "green petticoats".

All that aside I think that the attire issue was mistimed. The fact that the CJ could engage so thoroughly on a matter so fringe leaves a lot be desired. The truth is that there are more urgent Judicial issues to be addressed and a deep indulgence in cosmetics is just injudicious. There is more to change than aesthetics, The Judicial robes are not the problem in the Justice system. I feel the Judicial establishment should pursue efficiency rather than appearance, nothing more, Nothing less...

This is for the Fans...

This is a note of thanks, a portrait of appreciation and a testimony of endearment for the great debts many have lent to me. I never anticipated the success my blog has had, it isn't very big yet but its much more than I had expected. When I started my first blog it barely clocked 200 hits in the first month, this one has achieved as much 1,600 in a day and to me, that is a big deal.

I started writing almost by accident, I was not good at it, not at all. Since then I have come a very long way. I still have the pink A4 exercise book I scribbled my first stories on. I still read the awful stories I wrote then with numerous spelling mistakes and shallow vocabulary. I would not forget Daisy Wachira for taking her time to read and review the shamefully pathetic work I wrote then. If it wasn't for her encouragement back then I am sure I would not have thought much of writing. I am forever indebted to her for the encouragement even when I didn't deserve it.

Then came the sordid era of painfully offensive notes on facebook. I was more immature than I ought to have been, and I was forgiven much more than I ought to have been. I am forever indebted to the numerous friends Like Lewis Munene who was always gracious with me even when I deserved less, I shall not forget to acclaim his resilient patience with me even when my actions caused grief to his faith and beliefs. As a friend he has been much more than I could ever ask for and much more than I could ever deserve. Thank you, it means a lot to me.

When I started my first blog it barely clocked 200 hits in the first month, this one has achieved as much 1,600 in a day and to me, that is a big deal...I am forever indebted to her for the encouragement even when I didn't deserve it.... To everybody who supports me, Thank you, you have meant more than you would ever know and you have made a greater difference than you would ever see...

I have faced a lot of criticism because of my unorthodox ostentation and skewed perspective on things. I have always been Ying when everybody else was Yang, I have been on the odd side far often than I should have been and still many stood by my side even when I was on the wrong side. I don't think any friend has ever been more faithful and not many have ever been so tolerant of me, I am talking of no one else than David Mwaura. He has been my friend through the thick and the thin and no one else has influenced me more than he has. He accepted me and never expected me to change. He has encouraged me to be myself even when he would prefer I change. If David was the only friend I had, it would be enough.

Some people are ordained to come into our lives at a particular time, it is as if they were divinely appointed to come into our lives. How they ever got into our lives is a mystery only God can fathom. This could only be in reference to one person, Wendy Kodhiambo. This brilliant and remarkable lady has been nothing less than a strong encouragement and a big influence. She is the most prolific poet I have ever know and it was her aptitude and competence in her poetry that provoked me to get better. She made me aspire to be better, she made face the sky and confront my enormous potential, because of her influence I got better. I have to say that she is the person who guided me to higher levels of excellence, she gave me standards at a time I preferred mediocrity and for that she made a difference, the difference she made has left a mark and because of her I am better.

Time is always an open book, but it keeps its secrets so discretely like a lady's dress. Some things look obvious when they aren't, To say the truth I can't remember how we ever became friends, I am talking about Brenda Nyawara. Brenda is the person who dared to poke my bloated foolishness with a stick. I remember the first time she spoke to me, she called me and challenged me to explain why I wrote one of my painfully offensive facebook notes, Brenda has always been straight with me but always courteous, and always gentle. She influenced me to be more pragmatic in my expressions, she was the person who made me feel accountable for my ideas and perception. Unfortunately I am not the easiest person to deal with but she has always been a friend even when it was difficult and for that I am indebted.

Then there is silent influence in my life, a beacon of sobriety and maturity. I am talking of no one else but Charles Kariuki, the person who has watched and overseen my growth as a person over a range of years. He is the friend who is never critical, never judgmental but always supportive, He has been the most direct and possibly the biggest influence on my writing. He has always respected what I do even when he didn't agree, his generosity and kindness have meant a great deal. He has done much more than you could ever know and on his laptop most of my notes and blog posts have been typed, edited and reviewed.

She has been my number one fan and my biggest supporter. She has engaged me more than any other person. Her name is Bettie Ngungi, a lovely and remarkable person whose loyalty and friendship has had a bigger effect on me than she would ever know. She has encouraged me when no one else would, she has been a much better friend  to me than I have been to her. She has held me in the highest esteem despite my numerous and obvious short comings. She has always striven to keep me in touch with my "human" side, and she is the person who always reads and participates in my blog even when she doesn't have to. Thank you very much Bettie na usiringe!!

Then there is Frank Oenga, AKA Daktari Frank, a cherished friend from way back in the bush. Always sober always mature and a bit crazy. I always remember the day we were busted by Bwila for walking from Kiuks eating on the streets. As a friend he has been remarkable, he is the kind of friend everybody needs, noble and fun. Frank was the first person to ever comment on my blog and still one of the most active participants on this blog. Frank is the best even though he sometimes thinks "he is not a human being". He is the person who makes me feel like its OK to be crazy.

There are numerous people who support me and particularly this blog. I could not mention them all but I want to let them know I appreciate. I couldn't close without mentioning Wayne Orwa for sharing my links, I have to mention Kevin Arende Oriri for always participating and engaging me positively even when I wasn't responsive. Time has escaped me and there are many I ought to mention, but for now, Thank you all.

The Socks lost their “Virginity”…A day in Alliance High School…

My previous titles on Alliance high School have been popular hits, I started by thoroughly offending Alliance High School old boys with the post “My Miseries at Alliance High School”, this was found to be disgracefully offensive by most of the AHS alumni, its not that I am apologetic, No, far from it. AHS alumni are a painfully dull lot and nothing offends them more than fun. Nothing is more interesting than watch their “Bush Egos” loose fat on a work out of insolent retaliation, very refreshing… Then I captivated them with “Alliance High School 2030”, A humorous exploration of what AHS would look like in the future, interesting… Today, it’s a different story, I want to show you how life at Alliance High School was… let me give you a sample of an “interesting” day at Alliance High School. Good.

The day starts with an appointment to the punishment parade; I had surely woken up on the wrong side of the coffin…I had an appointment at 12.37pm, The Punishment parade. The Punishment Parade was the Place Alliance High School Boys would STRIP NAKED and receive damnation, Ruthless… Legend had it that some boys had gotten pregnant at the punishment parade; It was a good thing to carry a condom, protection…

The last hour of sleep is always the most interesting. Nothing is more interesting than sleeping in, I always remember the difficult choices I had to make in my bed at Arthur House dorm 16A, Every morning I faced the Dilemma of rocketing (going for early morning prep) or ‘planking’, of course being the “indolent and unfocussed” boy I always chose the easier choice, on this morning I did the same, in fact I pretended not to hear the Morning bell as usual, unfortunately this was the morning after people had risen (appointed prefects). All off a sudden, heavy footsteps and shrieks of terror as the fresh batch of Prefects descended on innocent commoners (Non prefects). I am instantly “arrested” and my details are demanded, being an Obstinate monkey (another term for non prefects coined by a former Dining hall captain) I bargain, I try to plead I was praying but it doesn’t work. The day starts with an appointment to the punishment parade; I had surely woken up on the wrong side of the coffin…

I ease from the shock and I prepare to go for morning work. I search through my locker for some fresh pair of socks, unfortunately the only clean pair is a bit of a “funnel” that kept sliding down my legs, and apparently the socks had lost their virginity as I had tried to wear them with my shoes on. So I walk into a Lifter’s (aspiring prefect) cube to see if I could find some rubber bands to suspend my “buggy condoms (socks)”. I attend to my morning work station to avoid an “exorcism” from Mr. Mutali…”Is STUPID! IS MUJINGA!! COW DUNG! COW DUNG IN THE HEAD!!” … That was Mr. Mutali’s trademark in the office, but Mr. Mutali was a Lovable character with a good heart, unlike YANS…

Finally its breakfast time! In Alliance High School nothing was more important than Breakfast, It was the only meal we enjoyed in that school, I especially Loved the porridge, but Breakfast was a scarce meal in that school, Often it was missed in that school. As a form one I sat on a gluttonous table called Table 6 of Aggrey House. On that Table there was a Dissolver (Hyena) called Kanae, how he never grew fat was a feat of Nature… After breakfast we would go to class for morning Registration and then parade. I rarely ever went for morning registration since I tended to get reported to my class teacher for Noise making, I was frequently summoned by Mrs. Isinta, on a few occasions a gawky boy called David would forward me for being an inconvenience to his life…

After registration there was the dreaded morning parade, parade was always an affair of me walking around to avoid prefects who were searching for Recyclers to book, don’t get me wrong, I was not a Filthy boy, I always wore my clothes once but the prefects always hunted me maliciously… I had certain magnetism for prefects, I don’t know if I “turned them on”, but they were always after me… It would have been easy to miss parade but I always looked forward to watching Mr. Khaemba address the school. Mr. Khaemba the principal was a very interesting speaker who staggered as he spoke, I always looked forward to seeing him fall off the parade, but he always stopped at the edge, of course that was a Joke, I never wished him ill…After parade we went to Chapel and I must say I loved the Hymns

Then there would be lunch at 12.35… Unfortunately it was not a smooth walk into the dinning hall to consume my ration… I had an appointment at 12.37pm, The Punishment parade. The Punishment Parade was the Place Alliance High School Boys would strip Naked and receive damnation, Ruthless… Legend had it that some boys had gotten pregnant at the punishment parade; It was a good thing to carry a condom, protection… TO BE CONTINUED ON “A NIGHT IN ALLIANCE HIGH SCHOOL”…

My struggles with "Insanity"...

That title sounds awkward, definitely. I am sure you are eager to know what I have come up with this time, obviously. There is no denying that I cut the image of a wild thinker, the intellect of the wilderness, I suppose I am some sort of ‘John the Baptist’. You must imagine I am a pariah, the one who never fits in. Maybe you think I am scatterbrained idiot with no friends, maybe to you I am a gawky boy who girls ignore and I ruminate on my ‘loneliness and bitterness’. Maybe you think am an ape that eats dry leaves and nuts, a talking ape. I don’t know what you think of me, of course assuming that you think about me.

Without doubt, I am unusual. I think about things that many wouldn’t, I say things that I possibly shouldn’t and I do things that many couldn’t. I have always felt different; I have always been on my own path of ostensible solitude. I have always stood out from the rest, sort like a sore thumb. I have always been ‘special’ and noticeably so. I am not being sardonic or condescending, no, not now. I mean that I have always been an outlander. I have always been the ‘odd one out’. I have always been the one who talked too much or the one who said nothing at all. I have always been the awkward one, the one who was always a noisemaker, the one who always attracted unwarranted stares and always the one who made people laugh or got laughed at. Many people try to be different, but I have always wanted to be like everybody else. Many say I am unique but deep down I know it’s just another way of saying you are different, you are an outsider, an alien and “an extraterrestrial”

...Maybe you think am an ape that eats dry leaves and nuts.... I think about things that many wouldn’t, I say things that I possibly shouldn’t and I do things that many couldn’t...

To many people, life is a straight line. To me it’s all spirals, always trying to find my place. I am always the coin among notes, the circle among squares, and the apple among bananas. I always feel as if my bus left, I think I was born in the wrong period and wrong place. I should have been born in the renaissance, maybe I would fit in as a hairless monk, and maybe I would an eccentric philosopher, who knows?

I try so hard to be normal. I try not to be the obvious misfit. I have tried sanity and I always fail. I have tried to be regular and it hasn’t worked. I try thinking straight and I always end up with convoluted thoughts. Sometimes I think my skull is full of intestines, every time I think I feel a tickling sensation… maybe my skull is full of termites, I always feel itchy inside my head, I try scratching I never reach it. Maybe that is God’s plan. I suppose God made me a misfit to demonstrate his cruel humour. I don’t know, I wish I could be like everybody else. If only I could be normal, even if it was just for ONE DAY.

God drives a Land Rover

It’s a testimony of British engineering, the only surviving aspect of British automotive competence. In the 1940s the British made and exported a lot of cars, today the British automotive industry is largely a corpse. British Leyland is gone, Rover is gone, Jensen is gone and the Morris as well. It is a sad story, in fact only Aston Martin remains British owned and until recently so was Land Rover.

...Land rovers are built for the man who doesn’t shave beards, he has a mane. The kind of man who doesn’t wear suits, the kind of man who doesn’t eat vegetables, just meat. Land rovers are for the man who has hairy legs and doesn’t wear trousers...

There are many land rovers, but I only acclaim one. It has been with us since the peak of the empire; it was dedicated to the crown and given to the Royal armed forces for the purpose of the Second World War. It was unveiled to the world 64 years ago as the Land Rover, today we call it the Land Rover Defender. It was the forerunner to all modern off road vehicles. It is 64 years of tradition, six decades of unquestioned pedigree and millions of miles or distinguished excellence.

For 64 years it has not changed a bit, it looks as it did back then when Colour had not yet reached television. They got it right the first time. It’s not beautiful, it’s handsome. It was only made with one thought, utility and nothing else. It was never made for the road, no, it was meant for the bush. It was built to go to places where roads hadn’t dared… I reckon God used a land rover during creation, I am sure Noah towed the arc with a land rover…It has proven its worth in peace and in war, No other vehicle has ever had such a long run of  tradition without compromise . No other vehicle has ever had such a distinguished appearance for so long. The Land Rover Defender is timeless, it’s been with us for us long as the moon but it’s as fresh as a spring. Other than the position of the spare tire, nothing has ever changed about the defender.

The land rover is built for a purpose, utility over looks, strength over comfort and tradition over image. Land rovers are built for a special kind of man. Land rovers are built for the man who doesn’t shave beards, he has a mane. The kind of man who doesn’t wear suits, the kind of man who doesn’t eat vegetables, just meat. Land rovers are for the man who has hairy legs and doesn’t wear trousers,just shorts... that is the kind of man who drives a Land rover, and I suspect God is that kind of man…

 The land rover is the last remaining piece of the old England, the England where everybody lived in Anna Hathaway’s cottage, the England where men were called William, the England where every boy dreamt of being a sailor. The Land rover helped run the empire, the empire is gone but the Land rover is the heritage, the legacy, a nostalgic memory of times more triumphant. To me the defender is special, its special because its old fashioned, the land rover is special because its simple, It reminds me of a less complicated time, its endearing because of its “Honest to God engineering”. Sadly we may be loosing it, land rover is owned by the Indians now and they don’t recognize pedigree. In recent times it has adopted the sophisticated ergonomics of the Land rover discovery, it has lost its “agricultural and rugged” interior, but that is not all, The Indians are bringing up an all new defender concept called the DC 100 and I hate it.