Friday, 28 March 2014

My close encounter of the painful kind:

I froze and remembered the television show “1000 ways to die!”

I had just stepped out of the shower toweling myself dry naked as the day I was born my only item of modesty a pair of Bata slippers. I don’t know who was more shocked to see the other me or that thing as we stopped and eyeballed each other. I was considerably taller so I was looking down at this………..this thing that had crawled out from under something in my bedroom while it looked up at me unblinking in its steely gaze.

What to do now! In a state of nudity, very many things cross your mind when confronted by something staring at your nakedness and seemingly completely unfazed by what it sees. In my confusion I sidestepped and it did the same no one neither advancing nor retreating as would be expected when in a confrontation with something.

Then recognizing the advantage of my size and in a bid to finish this confrontation before it started I raised my leg in a bid to kick/squish/splatter the thing. It was however smarter than I had given it credit for and it easily sidestepped away from me with ninja fast reflexes. It was now going to get me for sure. More out of desperation and annoyance – in hindsight a bad combination when you are trying to aim a killer blow at something while in a total state of undress – then good tactics and planning, I struck out with everything that I had before my advantage was lost.

But my best wasn’t good enough as I tracked a zigzagged pattern all over the battle ground determined to crush this thing that had invaded my personal space, its lightning fast reflexes no match for my clumsy and feeble attempts to put my pair of Bata slippers to good use. Finally a crash, had I succeeded, before it was immediately followed by an excruciating pain on one of my toes which had in my impatient stampede across the room had in my zest and zeal inexplicably collided head on with a hard and immovable object, the dressing table stool in the bedroom!

Now what, I thought as I hopped around the room my nakedness forgotten, pain jangling on my every nerve wondering why I had brought pain and suffering to myself for trying to dispatch an intruder to the next life. The thing had surely got me and got me good but I would live to fight another day thoroughly chastised and beaten but wiser nonetheless!

And that my friends (with apologies to my niece whom I had used as an excuse too embarrassed to admit to my colleagues about my misadventure) is how I ended up limping for the better part of two days, wearing a pair of crocs with a painfully hurting and bandaged toe (and not the big toe but its immediate neighbor) all in my misguided attempts to stomp on the biggest cockroach I had ever seen in my life and failing miserably.

I tell you this thing was huge, the stuff of nightmares and probably a relative of one of those ginormous Madagascar hissing cockroaches and my encounter with it and the ensuing comical effort to annihilate it reminded me of those scenes on “1000 ways to Die” that we watch and laugh at how easy it is for one to dispatch himself to the next life in an overzealous act of plain stupidity or false bravado. In my case a near broken and painful toe was the souvenir that I took away but what if I had slipped during my war dance and hit my head on the corner of the dressing table then we would be talking of another matter altogether, as in death by cockroach!!

I plan to give that creature a wide berth the next time we encounter each other lest the outcome become more serious than it was memories of out last dual fresh in my mind….if I see it that is since I have not laid eyes on it in the intervening period!





Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Lessons learnt from History:

I am not a history buff since this was one of the few subjects that I had little interest in and did not do well in but I have come to learn that there is a lot to be learnt from history. Leon Uris was one of my favorite historical authors many years ago and his novels often based on true life experiences of the Jews during the 2nd world war were dear to me.

“The human being is the only animal in this universe capable of infinite sadism and cruelty to all other species of animal including his own” - a quote I came up with a few years back.

These words have been coming back to haunt me ever since I started watching a series on television called ‘Nazi Hunters’ that depicts the excesses of the Nazis under Hitler during the Third Reich. Medical experiments on women, men and children followed by killing through lethal injection, gassing and execution are well choreographed and depicted in the series though thankfully the gory details are spared. Starvation, overwork and other forms of torture also led to the death of hundreds of thousands of people.

The series focuses on specific high ranking individuals within the Nazi party hierarchy that were especially brutal against the Jews in Germany and other parts of German occupied Europe and who had specific responsibilities to devise the most barbaric and sadistic ways to exterminate a human being known to man as ‘the final solution to the Jewish problem’ and how these men were later hunted down, after occupied Europe was taken over the allied troops, either to be forcefully repatriated to stand trial or to be assassinated by an execution squad. Many of them were elderly people when they were caught or assassinated in their supposed safe havens in the capital cities of South America secure in the knowledge that their crimes against humanity would remain unpunished as they enjoyed their ill-gotten wealth in the sunset of their lives. If ever there was a case of abuse of office these Nazi officers were guilty of it even as they professed to be following orders from above.

The atrocities committed on the Jews was unimaginable often in squalid and inhumane camps and ghettos some specifically constructed as death/extermination camps while others still as concentration camps and where millions of men, women and children were tortured and/or summarily executed for no other crime than being a Jew! Treblinka, Sobibor, Auschwitz, Belzec, Bergen–Belsen, Dachau and other notorious camps are today shameful monuments to the Nazis misrule of Germany and their occupation of Europe. Many of the Nazi senior officers it was reported also became fabulously wealthy looting and stealing from the condemned Jew populace then reselling jewelry, gold teeth and other valuables on the black market. Talk of adding insult to injury!

This is why listening to President Uhuru Kenyatta declare war on corruption in government recently was like a breath of fresh air as was the case of Amos Kimunya a once powerful and untouchable Finance Minister being hauled before a judge to answer to charges of corruption and abuse of office. Whether this campaign will be sustainable and non-partisan in who is caught up and prosecuted for corruption, abuse of office, and…………….dare I say it……………… crimes against humanity!

How many more corrupt untouchables who have devised devious, barbaric and sadistic ways to perfect their corrupt ways will this latest onslaught by the current government haul before the courts? How many more scandals arising out of corruption and abuse of office shall see the light of day before the whip is cracked on these people? Why is corruption allowed to thrive yet this is the cancer (pun intended) that sees young children dying unable to access medical facilities and life giving drugs in our public hospitals thanks to a cabal of corrupt courtiers in bed with the government officers in charge of procurement? How could these shameless cartels have been able to infiltrate the laptop project, the presidents very own pet project with wanton abandon if they do not enjoy the protection of someone high up in the pecking order?

Is there really a difference between the current Kenyan corruption cartels and the Nazi high command during World War II who did not have a care in the world stealing, murdering, pillaging, executing and assassinating all who stood in their way and consigning those too poor to do anything to a life of misery in squalid camps and ghettos and to a life of survival for the fittest because of their wanton excesses. Our very own Treblinka, Sobibor, Auschwitz and other camps (slums) abound across the country where the victims of corruption reside in abject squalor and hardships surviving on little more than hope and a prayer shameful monuments to a corrupt and uncaring regime!

Will our “Nazi Hunters” through the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission have the gumption and tenacity to hunt down and take down and disassemble these Nazi cartels in our midst enjoying the fruits (or is it lemons) of their ill-gotten wealth secure in the knowledge that they are above arrest and prosecution?

Only time will tell but the lesson from history is that where there is a will there is a way however long it takes as was demonstrated in the hunt for the Nazis after World War II many of whom were caught up with 15 to 25 years after their atrocities were exposed!




Wednesday, 12 March 2014

Don’t complain when the house help gets it wrong:

My wife is perennially getting cheesed of when her apparently simple instructions to the house help or gardener are not carried out to her satisfaction. What is so difficult with cleaning windows, sweeping under the bed, folding clothes, arranging the pantry she constantly wonders? What is so difficult with measuring out the salt that you put in the food, in using the condiments that she spends a fortune on in cooking, in using the fabric softener when doing the laundry, in correctly ironing the clothes after they are dry or even in knowing when to change the bed sheets she fumes?

Imagine for a moment that there was a shortage of trained lab technicians. Being a senior scientist, you naturally do not want to get your hands dirty on mundane things so that you may focus on the strategic technical and scientific developments that you are highly trained to do. So what do you do since you want someone to do the spade work for you carrying and arranging the pipettes, Bunsen burners, droppers, evaporating dishes, petri dishes, microscopes, beakers, flat bottomed and round bottomed flasks and whatnots and mixing chemicals and gases in exact proportions and at specific temperatures as well as taking due care and ensuring that all the safety issues associated with a laboratory that will make it remain a safe environment to work in are taken care of. You obviously look for someone to do what you expect them to do and with a modicum of intelligence that means that you will instruct them once and given their own skills and technical knowledge including the relativity table they should be able to carry out that task effortlessly and leave you to the difficult job of scientific development.

But I had mentioned that there was a shortage of these trained lab techs so what next? Naturally being a busy man you spread the word that you are looking for someone with certain skills and expertise to assist you in your work and voila someone who knows someone’s cousin is looking for a job tells you that they can get someone for you. After a few harried and testy questions (remember you are a busy man) you hire yourself a lab technician. Being the busy man that you are, the business of vetting and obtaining references and recommendations takes a back seat and you get to work.

Despite being busy, for the first few days you are patient with your new found lab tech and he seems to be catching up always eager to ask questions and understand your methodologies and is mixing chemicals in the right proportions and concentrations and arranging for you the required equipment with few if any mistakes. However you will never know that when left alone and unsupervised that lab tech you hired is a klutz of the worst kind, unschooled and unaware of the most basic of safety rules while in a laboratory and worse still prone to periods of myopia when he is nursing a hangover and therefore a danger not only to himself but to other around him.........until something dramatic, fatal or injurious to property or life happens!!

That my friends and senior scientists is how we hire those that we entrust with our children and our most prized possessions in our homes to cook for us and wash for us and wash up after us. We are patient with them the first few days as they get to learn the ropes but leave them to their own designs thereafter and complain when they get it wrong or do not live up to the mark. We forget that we are dealing with an ill-trained human being desperate to get a job and willing to try anything to get a salary at the end of the month even if it means lying to us. We forget that we need to vet these people and take references and do our homework to ensure that what they profess to be proficient in is actually backed up with a reference somewhere. We end up hiring drunks, rapists, thieves and assorted dregs of society simply because we are too busy to take time and do what is necessary to ensure that safety issues are well demonstrated and a semblance of common sense is apparent in those that we hire. Many of the expensive gadgets that we have in our homes are also alien to them and unless they are trained in how to use them they will just remain just that, expensive gadgets instead of the time saving conveniences the manufacturer intended!

So when in a moment of inattention you give your gardener clear instructions to bring you the three newspapers or when you tell him to wash up an oil spill in your garage until it is as clean as the rest of the garage floor, don’t be surprised when he brings you three Daily Nations (as happened to a friend recently and with all due respect to him) or he gets some acid from god knows where and then proceeds to almost burn a hole in the garage floor in his efforts to ensure that he fulfills your instructions don’t get upset.

Instead empathize with them!




Monday, 10 March 2014

Could ‘alcoblow’ be an additional taxation measure?

The message server on my phone beeped early Sunday morning. It was a message from one of my friends which began rather cryptically, “Just had me first meal courtesy of GOK at Muthaiga!”

What the hell! My friend in his usual laid back manner was reporting that he had been busted the previous night at Sarit Centre in Nairobi by the ‘alcoblow’ cops for driving under the influence (DUI) while over the legal limit of 0.35 units (of god knows what and this measure changes with whoever has been a victim) and had spent the night in the lock up at Muthaiga Police Station with a motley of similar men and women in varying degrees of inebriation and they would get their date in court the next Monday.

These are difficult times for all of us and the fact that the 0.35 units has not been defined in a measure that we can all understand (such as two bottles of Tusker or three bottles of malt lager or a double whiskey on the rocks or two glasses of dry red wine or even a large serving of fermented porridge) means that all who partake of alcohol are losers from the word go simply because they have no way of knowing if they are over the legal limit while indulging in their favorite tipple……………or porridge! Surely there must be a way that this measure of 0.35 units can be defined so that the poor driver out there is not scared stiff after partaking of one Tusker with a friend as he waits for the notorious Nairobi traffic to thin out before heading home? Surely………………!

I have my serious misgiving about how the authorities are going about this drink driving business but I do not question the intent behind ‘alcoblow’ as it is very noble and has reportedly resulted in a significant reduction in accidents caused by drunk driving. I personally think that the implementation has been done in an overly enthusiastic and sadistic manner and is open to abuse by the NTSA which seems to be the body mandated to ensure that drunk drivers are kept of Kenyan roads at whatever cost. How else but sadistic would you describe having “random” road blocks/testing points outside some of the most well frequented pubs in middle class Nairobi where you are bound to score by nabbing a whole bar load of drunks?

The application of this ‘alcoblow’ testing from where I sit seems to be skewed and, particularly in Nairobi, seems centred around the more affluent areas of the city and on the highways into and out of the city. Imbibers of the frothy stuff and other more expensive single malt whiskies, cognacs, aperitifs and assorted expensive liqueurs will easily afford the ‘alcoblow’ fines would seem to be the conventional thinking. This to me is also informed by the fact that those caught driving under the influence in Nairobi are incarcerated at Muthaiga Police Station with some of the more comfortable (or so I am told) police cells in Nairobi at present wherever in the city one is arrested!

So is this ‘alcoblow’ thing then a ploy to generate more revenue by way of fines for a government burdened with an insanely huge wage bill that saw the entire cabinet a week ago agree to a pay cut and other government expenditures occasioned by devolution? I would tend to think so given the enthusiasm and the tenacity of the authorities to rein in the time honored Kenyan pastime of over indulgence in alcohol including naming and shaming through expensive newspaper adverts those who did not appear in court to answer to charges of driving while under the influence as well as now setting up their sting operations even during the day.






Tuesday, 4 March 2014

The boob encounter as the hunt continues

The hunt for a suitable suitor in Nanyuki continues. I have been searching for many months possibly a few years and have not found anything suitable. I have seen some tall ones and some short ones, some small ones and some big ones. I have seen them in the morning as the sun is rising and at dusk when the sun is setting. I have seen them silhouetted against the great mountain and as their shadows stretch out into the plains.

I have seen them dirty and unkempt waiting for someone to give them a make-over and I have been there when they change their make-up. I have once got in through the back door but mostly through the front door. But pray stop ogling and get your head out of the gutter because I am talking about the hunt ………………………………………for a suitable space for a branch of the bank!!

On another note, where is one supposed to look when a lady starts breastfeeding her crying baby in your office as you are giving her details of how to apply for a vehicle loan and what interest rates you are paying on fixed deposits? No kidding, it happened to me earlier today and being in Nyeri I dared not complain lest I get the ‘kichapo ya mbwa’ that Nyeri women are famous for. Do you look at her, at the baby, at the boob or elsewhere?

The problem really is that so long as you are looking at her or at the baby she thinks you are looking at her boob. And if you look at the boob she will know you are looking at the boob. If you look away she will wonder why you are not looking at the boob so you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. In retrospect, she probably and urgently needed the privacy of my office to whip out her mammaries to feed her baby which I guess is pretty much with the same sense of urgency as someone with diarrhea looking for a loo when the urge to go comes and knowing that you have precious little time before the s*** embarrasses you in public! The milk production in lactating mothers (or so I hear) is often similarly triggered by the baby’s hunger cry so what better place to breastfeed than the Bank Manager’s office before the milk gushes out!

You are probably wondering where I looked because after all this was a business opportunity and as she pushed her boob back into place the hungry baby somewhat satiated and she seemingly satisfied with my answers to her questions (possibly just relief that the embarrassing moment had been averted), I had been busy writing down what we required for her to qualify for a loan as well as other useless information that was not really necessary but which I nonetheless wrote down! So if you thought I was looking at her boob I took the easy way out by writing down what I would have ideally have been telling her verbatim just to keep my hands and eyes busy and to afford a potential client a bit of privacy.

So next time you are faced with a boob wielding lady in your office be it in Nyeri or wherever else you will now know what to do. Just pretend that you have a sudden urge to write a long love letter to someone!