The Dull and Ignorant ( I am Getting Real Tired of Hearing Their Story)

Turns out Green Day was wrong... Silence is not the enemy...

If you've been following my blog you know that I just finished school...exactly one week ago, actually. As expected, I was starry eyed and full of dreams. All my life I have been prepared for this moment. For a person who didn't peak in primary school, high school or college; I figure the next few years will be my moment in the spotlight.

I have become quickly disenchanted. You see, as I said here, I have spent the last four years in the company of highly intelligent people and in a place where almost everything runs like clockwork. In other words, I have spent the last four years in a scenario that was nothing like the real Kenya. In fact, make that eight years. My high school had this antique feel to it that made it seem like a prep school. Now it's dawning upon me that most people are pettier, duller and generally more difficult to work with than I had imagined them to be.

I have to say it started with my attempt to get an ID at work. I literally had to sit the guy in charge of that down to get him to process it. Every time he'd ask me to come back later, I'd find him playing Candy Crush on Facebook or stalking Ole Lenku; said ID still unprocessed. With the patience I usually only reserve for my two year old nephew, I got him to sit and do the 15 minute job that had taken him two days to get done.

Even after that, my starry vision had not yet been dimmed. I wasn't going to let one uncooperative IT guy ruin my day. The hostel thing was what started to nag me. I needed to leave some luggage at the reception for Daddy dearest to pick up and the matron was unrelenting until she overheard me speak Kikuyu to my dad over the phone. Then she got all clansman and village-matey on me; let me leave my luggage and even forgave the fact that I lost my cutlery. You are probably wondering why I got worked up about some reverse tribalism when there are bigger problems in the nation. I'm not sure. I suppose it just triggered the knowledge that no matter how far I get, my name and mother tongue will always influence how people treat me. And even when that treatment is good, it will always leave me with a bitter taste.

What completely disenchanted me was the policeman who unleashed tear gas in Bus Station to a group of people queuing peacefully because a few women demanded that if the City Council askaris were going to arrest the women who were selling groceries, they should at least be allowed to take their children with them rather than leave them on the street. The pompous ass started firing bullet into the sky and threw tear gas canisters to the queuing passengers. I think a certain minimum level of intelligence should be ascertained before handing someone a gun and a can full of irritant gas. That's just the responsible thing to do. It is really no wonder that our national security is in shambles if these are the kind of people entrusted with it!

PS: On the bright side I got to buy a faux Luigi purse before the chaos begun...
Fake it till you make it...




 PPS: I will forever be a laptop activist. My respiratory system was not made to handle tear gas. And I didn't go to the obstacle course that is UoN, which would have hardened me to the terrors of this world!

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