Let The Dead Bury The Dead!

*I have lacked the ability to write this article for most of the past month. However, I now find myself overtaken by the state of events in the country - just recently we lost Governor Joyce Laboso to cancer; she was preceded by MP Ken Okoth just a few days prior. I wish their families and those affected by their deaths my full condolences and God's comfort in their lives.

To start with, I'd have to clarify my title: this is Matthew 8:22, Jesus at probably one of his more provocative moments. The Lord was certainly blunt and went straight to the point, but the context of the conversation is sometimes difficult to understand; a remnant of some cultural practices that we may not experience in this day and age. A priest once clarified it for me: when the young man slated to be a disciple (Matthew 8:21) asked to be allowed to go and bury his father, it is never implied that his father is actually dead; rather, he wants to return home to live out however long his father has left on this earth, and then after his (father's) eventual death turn towards serving the Lord. Jesus was very categorical that God's kingdom and all things entailed within it would not play second fiddle to the temporal fleeting activities of this world.

This verse has resonated with me lately because our politicians (Members of Parliament to be exact) are at it again! I have really tried to avoid watching the evening news since the latter part of 2017 when everything really all focused on the elections. Even after the disastrous election, and its re-run, election euphoria never really went way; and, sadly, even now politicians have already revamped themselves in campaigning for the distant 2022 election as if nothing else matter in between. The news cycle is just a rehash of campaigning, scandals and intrigues that are mind-numbingly tiring to listen to or tolerate at this point.

Lately, however, as if on cue, our parliamentarians have started clamouring for an increase of their allowances.The stunner was a sh. 250,000 house allowance (backdated to late last year), but there was more: there are plans in place to increase their car grants, sitting allowances, and perhaps a potential "night allowance" for when their seating extends into the night time past the normal hours of business. I personally have never understood why people who are some of the best-salaried in the world are paid "sitting allowances" to show up at their places of work: Sh. 5,000 and at times double if you sit on certain committees. That is a level of ridiculousness that needs a different time and place to answer.

As usual, the MPs have come out in force to address the usual uproar that arises with such blatant greed; and of course the usual arguments will be made, but one specific argument has consistently been touted: the need to cater for funerals for their constituents. On the rare occasion that I recently watched the evening news, I saw 2 MPs talk about how they are invited to so many funerals, and the mourners expect them to donate money towards funding funeral logistics like transport, food, etc. I was boiling inside, but the kicker came when one randomly separately interviewed constituent remarked that the MPs  deserved to have their emoluments increased simply because they provide money at funerals.

Kenya certainly has a strange relationship with death and funerals, which certainly makes us worthy of the descriptor "Peculiar". People may be reviled or neglected during the time that they are alive, but suddenly upon their deaths they become saints whose influence on our life cannot be overstated, and suddenly we realize that they will leave big gaps that cannot be filled.

1. I remember one patient who (during the course of my internship) sat in our female ward neglected for many weeks. Till today I don't understand why she was in a Gynaecology Ward because her symptoms seemed to suggest that she had a Liver/Bile Duct malignancy. In any case, I don't remember seeing any relatives visit, and there was no way to progress with her testing because that needed a lot of external tests, and expensive in-house tests that required cash upfront. Eventually, she succumbed to her illness; strangely, the very next day the family arrived wailing, cleared her hospital bill in one fell swoop, and took her "home".
   
2. I recall some events concerning the planning of my paternal grandfather's funeral. My mother had gone out into the town (Katito) to hire some chairs for the occasion. Some random young gentleman with political ambitions decided that he'd pay for the chairs so that he could have the chance to address the mourners; this didn't sit well with my mother who firmly turned him down and paid for the chairs out-of-pocket (as she had always intended).
   
   I remember that he still had the gall to show up at the funeral, and took to the podium to address the mourners. Since I do not understand my mother-tongue, everything he said basically went over my head; but disrespect is a cultural universal that anyone can understand, and to this day I still get angry thinking about that foolish man.
3.  Early this past July, there was furor raised by a bunch of politicians at the funeral of Pastor Shem Ngoko of the SDA Church; this was merely because they were not allowed to address the mourners during the ceremony. Even despite the express orders of the church, the politicians sought to insinuate themselves into the church proceedings where they would undoubtedly have uttered useless political rubbish.

Our politicians display a plethora of similar experiences to these mentioned above. Their main goal, however, is their need to get a cheap and readily available audience for them to practice their "snake-oil salesman" act. Some of the most ludicrous statements in the recent past have mostly been uttered at funerals. I don't know when we embraced the idea that it is acceptable to turn funerals into political rallies. The day is chiefly meant for family and those close to the deceased person to give them a dignified "send-off". The immediate family of the departed individual is accepted to be the party that requires the condoling and whose needs are prime.

Additionally, neither do I know when we started turning funerals into opulent occasions. Why would anyone feel the need to "keep up with the Joneses." There is not a hint of added dignity in the act of burying someone in a bulletproof gold casket, in the slaughter of a herd of cattle, or in the printing of t-shirts and keepsakes containing the deceased's image. We all acknowledge that we came from dust and to the dust we shall return, therefore we just need to do enough to honour one that has passed on; this should, however, never involve driving their kinfolk to lengths of desperation that will see them spending vast sums of money on something as transient as a funeral.

There are 2 simple lessons on offer here:

1. Politicians need to aim higher and stop lusting after "low-hanging" fruit. Why seek to endear yourselves to crowds of mourners at a funeral yet watch as children under your sphere of influence learn under trees, hospitals remain dilapidated and people continue to suffer from joblessness and hopelessness. If they lack the willpower to say "no", take a few lessons on how to say no nicely. 
2. People need to learn to live within their means, and this is especially relevant the less you have. The begging bowl mentality we espouse at the top in needlessly borrowing money to fund everything under the sun has worked its way down to the bottom. We as a people need to be disciplined and stop selling our civic rights to individuals for a pittance. Perhaps if we held our leaders to a higher standard at the grassroots level, they would be forced to prove themselves at the country and international level.

So to bring things full circle, Let the Dead bury the Dead! We need our politicians committed to the task of improving the general livelihood of all Kenyans, and preparing us to deal with the challenges posed by the 21st Century. Let them desist from this foolishness of lame excuses and utter greed, and let them do the task for which they were chosen. History will deal with them unkindly if they choose anything else.

God Bless

The Huduma Number Fiasco

You can obviously tell that I'm already peeved about this Huduma Number registration exercise. Just the manner in which it has been rolled out amid mystery and mistrust, and the immediate threats that have followed is an immediate cause for concern. However, before you go on to condemn me as some unpatriotic critic whose only intent is to curtail development, let me give you some reference for my misgivings.

Let's take it back to my medical internship, circa mid 2014. The government had suddenly become overwhelmed by its "ghost worker" problem, so they had decided that they would conduct a biometric registration program of its civil servants to fix the issue. So summarily, they decide that within a small window of time (~2 weeks in my recollection), all civil servants would have to be registered, or run the threat of not getting their salaries.

In my mind I'm thinking "what the hell is this?" I had been posted to Kisii Hospital in May that year, reported on June 1st, received my paperwork that I needed to present to the Ministry of Health (at Afya House) on June 2nd; after making all the submission of the required data, I had reported back to my work station on June 8th and started working. So they basically had all my fresh data,  but now we were going to add biometrics. Well, when threats abound, you just make your peace with the situation and try to find time in your schedule for such things.

This registration turned out to be a little tricky. The hospital served as a registration centre for some days (not given out in advance), then there was the functionality of the biometric registration kits (questionable), and the speed of the exercise. I remember that the most convenient time for me to register fell on the morning right after I had been on the night shift during my surgical rotation; hence, I made up my mind to show up for the registration early the next morning before I departed for home. Morning rolls in and I get down to the designated area (close to the cafeteria), and I find a large line has formed. There are some clinical and other hospital staff in the queue, but, surprisingly, the bulk of the people in line are other county workers from Lord knows where.

The registration workers arrive and the exercise starts. It moves slowly: only 2 of the 3 biometric registration kits are working. Then the usual tomfoolery ensues with grown men and women just cutting in line or being mysteriously moved ahead of others unceremoniously. By 12pm, I still wasn't any closer to being registered, and I was basically running on fumes from a busy night shift. I cut my losses and decided to head on home, and try my luck on a different day. The rest of the day turned out to be a similar nightmare: lights went out, meaning I couldn't charge my phone which also dabbled as my alarm; I thus overslept past my reporting time of 8pm, waking up to multiple missed calls from fellow interns once I eventually plugged in and charged my phone. (In retrospect, this might be one of the reasons that I had supplementary weeks added to my surgical rotation).

I eventually had to get myself registered at the county offices some time later (as usual, the date for the exercise had had to be extended), and life went on as it should...but I was pretty sure that the ghost worker issue would rear its ugly head again

All of a sudden, in 2019, we apparently have ghost workers in the Police Force. I'm not exactly sure if Police count as civil servants, and neither am I sure whether they were expected to be registered during that last (eventful) program of 2014, which was of course run under this same Jubilee Administration. This all boils down to the same thing: we have a mediocre set of systems that have been set up to manage us. A proper management system would register employees, make regular updates to cater for changes in their status/upgrades, and lastly account for attrition in the work force, occurring through resignation, dismissal or retirement. The fact that we have ghost workers masquerading in the system merely means that the system is not being regularly updated (to weed out past employees), or someone with a higher level clearance is introducing bogus data into the system. Needless to say, the majority of the good hardworking people will suffer for problems originating from levels that are "way above our pay grades."

So now we have the Huduma Number, our Saviour-du-jour. As with all things of this generation, we are first reminded that it is digital and biometric; in addition, it is meant to bring together all disparate data and numbers that are essentially tied to each Kenyan, and basically make life easier. This isn't really anything new. I remember that some time before the most recent elections, some government spokesperson had shown up on TV and spoken of the need for a new card (and number) to oversee our other numbers. And even then I had still thought it was a ridiculous idea.


I actually managed to get my hands on one of the forms in advance, and I was able to start filling it out, but the only details I was missing were the expiry date of my passport and my driving license number. Looking at the form is simply infuriating because it just makes you realize that you've already filled in these details on multiple prior occasions when registering for your NSSF, NHIF, KRA and even driving license. And here's the kicker: you needed your ID card to register for all those other cards!

Anyway, filling out the form was easy enough, with the exception of these administrative divisions (county, sub-county et al.) which are pretty much a foreign concept to me. After it's all filled out, you have to sit and wait in line for your turn to be registered using the biometric capturing kits. Fortunately, I was being registered at my place of work and did not have to face the prospect of standing in a ridiculously long queue. Understand that the time it's taking for people to be registered is more along the average mark of 15 minutes, and there are some outliers that are even exceeding 30 minutes. That means that for every 4 people ahead of you in line, you should expect to wait about 1 hour if only one registration officer is working, or 30 minutes if you have 2 registration officers on duty. And that's hoping that the machines work the way they are supposed to! Rumours abound of the biometric kits being unable to capture biometric data if their battery charge dips below the 40% mark. Forget about that ease of registration display they show you when they register the President and other high ranking politicians. That is the demo version. You, on the other hand, are guaranteed to have a more tedious and nerve-racking time when you settle down for the process.

However, since this is Kenya, more frustration abounds when people fail to show common courtesy. How on earth do people grow up to be full blown adults and never ever learn to queue properly? People are already on edge because of the length of time the whole process takes, and the usual bunch of hiccups that ensue. Nothing grates the nerves more than seeing someone mosey up to the front of the line like they're entitled royalty. At our registration centre, someone had the foresight to draw up a register to keep track of people's order of arrival. This came in handy because we ended up switching to a larger room, and that kept things from devolving into free-for-all chaos.

The process itself merely consists of having everything transferred from the form to the Biometric kit, having your picture and finger prints taken, and also having pictures taken of some of the documents that you bring along with you. I think it only took 10 minutes to have my stuff over and done with. I can attest that my registration officer was a pretty stand-up guy...but then they did show up at 8.30 am instead of the previously stated 7.00 am.

Anyway, I have a little acknowledgment slip as proof that I've actually gone through the process. It still doesn't change my misgiving about the whole process. I don't really think this will improve anything. Sure there's all that talk of improved service delivery and rooting out ghost workers, but if this was something that was meant to be taken seriously they'd have started out with some civic education. Some people might try to explain it as the Kenyan citizenry being propelled into the future with a new digital number; this will basically save us the hustle of needing a whole bunch of other cards and numbers that are currently part and parcel of our daily lives. In theory, that would seem intelligent...if it weren't for the fact that our ID cards are already a key field item: they are basically the singular item tying us to our passports, KRA pins, NSSF and NHIF cards, and even our driving licenses. Someone may argue that the IDs may not be digital, but then the simpler solution would be for them to issue a New Generation ID card, and make sure that this time it is machine-readable. (the last generation ID card already included capturing of biometric parameters).

The common mwananchi is even more confused about what this new number will be able to do. Thanks to threats from government allied officials, people basically think that they won't be able to get bank cards, or perhaps that they may lose their cell phone numbers, or that they won't be able to register for things like passports (my personal fear). Sometimes in this country, unfounded fears can be something you should really consider seriously. I'm just thinking of the government clerks who will unduly frustrate people using this Huduma number as some sort of sifting criteria. These Hudumu Number cards won't even be ready for the next foreseeable couple of months (at least 3 - 6), and we will still need to use our IDs for most things, but one should never assume government offices are places where sound reason abides.

It's business as usual in this country. We haven't even passed legislation that's guaranteed to protect our data and honour our privacy. The politicians wrongly think that this matter is handled with as much carelessness as they form their political vehicles of the day: come up with the party first, then eventually tack some sort of manifesto and meaning much later on. Too much politics and tenderpreneurship has seen us sacrifice the soul of this nation for the vested interest of a few individuals. Politicians the world over are more likely to implement something new (affording them the chance to attend lavish ceremonies with ribbon-cutting theatrics) rather than retooling or fixing an old FUNCTIONAL system. The wisdom of the old saying still stands:

It is better to measure ten times and cut once than to measure once and cut 10 times

Any sort of critical thinking would convince anyone that this operation is half-baked; why else would they need to resort to the lowest form of manipulation  - intimidation - to get this pushed through? Kenyans are not an abrasive bunch of folk who merely routinely oppose the government for kicks - we can be reasoned with. The courts have tried to protect us from this hasty government decree, but this current government is renowned for ignoring court orders and bulldozing their way forward. The likelihood is that reason and justice will not prevail here.

However, there just might be some light at the end of the tunnel. I believe that the veracity of the data can be maintained beyond this exercise. This Huduma Number can eventually be written out of our collective consciousness, and we can get the ideal ID card we've been longing for. Fundamental to all this would be the fact that we build up a foundation of institutions and systems of integrity that will safeguard the dignity of the people of Kenya, and root out all the "conflict of interest" that is sucking our lifeblood dry. The land and people of Kenya will outlive the prevailing politics and trends of the day, and thus, we owe them something congruent to that. The glow and trappings of new technology will not be our saviour: a culture of integrity and respect for justice is all we really need, and something we will eventually get.

God Bless

 

Driving Peeves

Driving in Kenya really isn't for the faint of the heart. Between the roads, motorized vehicles and pedestrians, circumstances conspire to give you an enraging experience on a regular basis. Matatus are obviously top on my list in terms of irritants with their devious ways, but it seems like everyone and anything can ultimately surprise you at any time. Here's just a list of some of my current peeves

1. Matatus stopping on the road
   This literally just happened to me today: I'd just made it up a precipitous hill, and was balancing my car as I waited for my chance to branch right onto the road. A matatu driver pulls off to my side of the road to drop people, blocking my view of oncoming traffic! It's hard enough trying to balance a manual car up a hill that steep, and be able to get enough thrust to gun it; however, doing this without a clear view of oncoming traffic (sometimes very fast approaching) is insane!
   
   Somewhere along the line, it became acceptable for matatus to just stop in the middle of the road, park on the side road preventing you from merging onto a road, or even just pull off ever slightly off the road but have enough of the vehicle jutting onto the road to cause some concern (or even an impending accident).
2. Grandfather with wheelbarrow on the road
   This particular entry is so specific, I just had to highlight it. The other day as I was driving to Kiserian, this (perhaps senile) old man was just standing square on the edge of tarmac in my lane, and he was just totally oblivious. There was an oncoming car in the opposite lane, and I'm pretty sure if I'd driven on I would've hit the man. I actually had to come to a complete standstill, wait for the other vehicle to pass, then maneuver past the idiot. I pray that he learns better road etiquette or he won't have many more days on this earth with that kind of behaviour.
3. Pedestrians crossing at idiotic places
   I have previously been accused of being very hard on pedestrians, perhaps signifying that I am a vehicle-snob. Granted, most of Kenya is a walking-nation (I would actively eschew driving for a walk or a decent bus ride), but none of that excuses rank idiocy on the roads. I once drove through Kawangware (hopefully never again), and it was a nerve-racking experience trying to steer clear of pedestrians who'd invade the road any chance they got.
   
   The sheer lunacy from pedestrians is mind-boggling. Some people have gotten into the habit of pointing their open palms at you to stop as if they're the police; others simply walk so slowly once they plant their feet onto the tarmac, it's as if they assume they have bragging rights to the road. I once saw a man walk directly into a roundabout (with freely flowing traffic mind you) in much the same way that a car would!
   
   Some of these pedestrians are just begging to get hit. Sad reality is that people think that if you hit them you owe them a ride to the hospital, and a responsibility to pay for all their medical procedures. If only people really understood the amount of convalescence and rehab associated with ghastly road accidents (in addition to expenses and lost productivity time), they might try to be more careful on the roads. I feel sad for all the children who have to learn to cross roads from these obviously deficient adults, because they'll end up making the same mistakes
4. Poorly marked/maintained roads
   It always astounds me how many bodies are charged with taking care of our roads, but then they seemingly can't get some simple things fixed. It's already a nightmare driving on roads with people from oncoming traffic veering into your lane on occasion, but this is magnified further by failing to mark roads with the occasional fresh coat of paint.
   
   Then there are those times when you encounter massive potholes that are literally craters. Sometimes you just find yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop, because in the back of your mind you're pretty sure that the pothole will undoubtedly end up being a "widow-maker". Don't the employees of these road maintenance bodies drive through these very roads everyday?
   
   With all the money we pay in form of taxes (particularly those tacked onto already inflated fuel prices), you'd think that we could get well marked and maintained roads. This isn't brain surgery!
5. Non-standardized bumps
   I remember that while I was learning to drive in the US, when it came to something like honking/hooting/beeping it was understood that it was something you did to warn people; thus it need not be used punitively. I imagine the same principle stands for putting bumps on the road. I can't understand why for the life of me some of the bumps on the road are erected so tall; there are some bumps so high, that they scrape the base of your car on the regular. Then there are those irritating bumps which you have to slow down to a measly 8 km/h to climb them, or face the prospect of a jolt in your ride.
   
   This, however, isn't the norm; there are some elegantly designed sections of road (both old and new) that get their bumps right. As a plus, they actually mark them so that you can be aware of the bumps much earlier. Can't we just aim for the best standards in our roads instead of playing russian roulette with quality?
6. People not using their turn signals appropriately
   Sometimes I wonder how many people actually passed their driving tests without having to pay a bribe to get the requisite pass. According to the way some people drive, you'd think that turn signals are just an unnecessary accessory on their vehicles. Many a time, I've had to employ defensive driving because someone randomly just slows to a complete standstill without any warning; there is nothing more insulting than seeing them then turn on their turn signal, as if that was enough prior warning that you required. Worse still, there are people who would never make any indication at all
7. People driving on unpaved shoulders
   Save for the few rains that have quenched the scorched earth in most of the country, it has been really hot and dusty outside. Of course I'd like to keep my windows open and soak up the breeze, but that becomes impossible when matatus, bike riders and cars resort to using unpaved shoulders to beat traffic. They kick up so much dust that is immediately suffocating, but ultimately also a nuisance because they make my car interior and exterior look like I've taken a drive through the Sahara.
8. Impatient idiots
   Sunny Bindra once remarked that Kenyans talk so much about (traffic) jams that you'd assume that it was our staple food! Granted, we do spend a lot of time sitting in traffic jams, but nothing stirs up my gall more than watching drivers jump onto the oncoming traffic lane to avoid the jam. Sometimes they even end up making the situation worse. It's as if they think they're better or more intelligent than everyone else.
   
   You can add self-important politicians and like-minded individuals to the list. I long for the days long gone of President Moi when there were minimal motorcades on the road. Nowadays you could even see run-of-the-mill diplomats with chase cars, and they're driving on the wrong side of the road. If our politicians don't have the decency to fix the underlying causes of the traffic jams (very well within their domain of responsibility), then by God they should have the decency to sit in traffic jams like the rest of us.
9. Roundabouts
   Lord knows I didn't get much experience with roundabouts during driving lessons, but with a little practice and attention to the rules it's a skill that you can easily acquire. I do have an issue with the people that don't understand that you can't use the 1st lane (right outermost lane) to make a 270 or 360 Degree turn about the roundabout. I almost had my car T-boned by someone as I was basically driving straight through the 2nd lane; similarly, my mother almost found herself between a rock and a hard place when her car was almost sandwiched between a lorry making such a maneuver in the 1st lane, and a bus in the 3rd lane. 
10. Motorcycle (boda boda) riders riding aggressively
    As if it wasn't bad enough that a huge number of motorcycle riders are unlicensed and poorly taught, they have the gusto to ride extra aggressive on the roads. I recall that once I was driving in Kileleshwa, and this lorry driver gave me way so that I could merge onto his lane. Would you believe that NOT one, BUT two motorcycles (with passengers in tow) came up from behind me, and without slowing down squeezed into the small gap between myself and the lorry. If I hadn't slammed on the brakes, I'm pretty sure I would have crushed those people to death.
    
    Now I've been around an orthopaedic ward or two, and could regale you with the variations of fractures and soft tissue injuries that I've come across when it comes to boda boda riders. The worst thing about these injured riders is that their friends visit them while they're in hospital, see the horrific injuries, dastardly surgeries and long recovery times that their colleagues undergo, but learn nothing from the experience, and go on to perpetuate the carelessness.

I'm pretty sure there's more I haven't highlighted, but that's enough for now. Just better make sure you say your prayers before getting on these roads because it's the rule of the jungle on these streets.

Stay safe.