“Cooker!”
That is what I call my small bro, he is one of them; these Nairobi kids in their early twenties- who put on ‘pencils’ are savvy, always have ear phones dangling from the ears and street smart. He is a nice lad, and our moments together are usually spent on the terraces of Nyayo stadium, cheering, jeering- screaming our voices hoarse at AFC Leopards as they play Gor Mahia- K’ogalo. We argue and debate over who will win; I always lose. Then he tells me to bet on Sports Pesa, and I often get livid about that prospect of littering my hard earned cash in the stinking alleys of imagined luck; something Cooker calls the Jackpot. I have never betted and will never bet!
“ Tutaenda gadaa saa ngapi, ama tukate ticket kwanza?” Cooker always asks.
It is a very predictable game, we will usually assemble outside KENCOM, with a noisy procession and deft, sinewy fingers rhythmically smashing drums with accompanying songs and a mass display of hysteria, as we sing off key the way Ingwe (The leopard) will maul the opposition K’Ogalo in Kenya’s most hyped football game. The presumed Luhya’s in the fanfare call this musical distraction Gadaa, I think a third of the fellas in that mix are high like kites.
There will be light, friendly banter with Gor fans who will mill around Tom Mboya’s statue, we will mingle, slap hi- fives and largely inconvenience traffic as we take over Uhuru Highway, walking, jogging to an accompanying drumbeat. We will look forward to a largely entertaining encounter, with superhuman drills and dribbles, drop kicks and bicycle kicks. An orgasmic display of football that will have us helpless, surging forward in the ‘Ooh’s and Aah’s’ of near goals and fired blanks.
A random Gor fan will say “ Aki semeji leo tunakula gweno,” and gesture with arms flapping like a bird about to take to flight, I will just ogle and say nothing.
Cooker will often ask
“ Umeonaje hiyo.?” ( Did you see that?”)
I will often tell him in jest . “Sijaona!” ( Haven’t seen a damn thing!”)
Then the game will start, and in the 65th minute, the game will abruptly end when a dubious penalty in awarded (ok, depending on which team you support), the fans will have none of it, and they will demand the referee goes. They will not trust the referee to officiate the rest of the match.
It will start as a roar of disapproval, then anger and rage will set in- then words, hot ones will surge forth from wagging tongues, people will rise from their seats- people will start throwing tantrums, then proceed to throwing things. I have no idea where the stones come from, its like there’s a farm within Nyayo stadium, or a goat that breeds stones.
They will be pelted,
“ Huyo referee aende, Mbwa yeye!” (Dog, what did the dog ever do to always be dragged into human rage). They will utter expletives and the fighting among fans will start.
It will be Us against Them, Luo’s against Lunjes, would be the presupposition, and we will confront each other with bloody fury, along blurry ethnic lines. Never mind like the 47 or so tribes in Kenya could still be well represented in the stadium. The Luos will call Lunjes stupid gluttons whose predominant obsession is a poshomill, while the Lunjes will call the Luo’s uncurmsised dimwits.
The police will try to intervene only to be pelted by all manner and form of projectiles. They will call for re-enforcements, and they will come, with a major dose of teargas
Cooker and myself will look for the nearest exit in the chaos, and run like our lives depended on it. We will sure live to tell the story.
I hear the same referee is being accused of bias, this time the game has been switched to University way, and its not between Gor and AFC.
It’s a derby called #IEBCMustGo
The Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission must go; shit, it is a biased referee. It ate chicken and the feathers clouded its vision
I never understand why we never seem to get it in this country, there is no such thing as a ‘peaceful demo’ when political overtones are on play, they will never be in a country reeling under primitive energy vested in idle youth keen at taking any opportunity to vent.
The politicians seem to have mastered this, for any planned demo- they have long realized that there will be willing participants, youth suffocating under dashed hopes and frustration; a group that has nothing to lose. Infact a demo situation has the lucrative appeal of robbing and vandalizing other civilians minding their own business for this group.
Demonstrations in this country take other dimensions, as avenues of mass mischief. Some Idiots becoming a law unto themselves without fear of reprisal. It’s like they imagine that they have suddenly acquired invincible capacities, to throw stones, smash windows harass motorists, smack women’s behinds and aggravate that with other inappropriate gropes. They glide in the tide and cloud of demonstrations which offer a convenient camouflage to engage in lethargic lawlessleness.
They are bold and courageous, their CV’s must boast of teargas immunity.
This madness is leaking into the universities, however the disgraceful incidents of May 17, 2016 will keep recurring, and myopic folks will fire salvos at the police for using excessive force.
While I am not for the idea of extreme brutality and use of excessive force (there is no justification) on the part of the police. I remain at crossroads as to how police should treat a surging crowd baying for blood and bent on maximizing damage. I am left at a loss as to how the police should act. Hug the protestors perhaps? Tell them:
“ Boss, eeei, na unajua kurusha mawe. Ushawahi fikiria kuwa kama YouTube Yego?kuja tukunywe kachai kwanza, ndo uendelee kurusha hi mawe baadaye.”
It’s a shame that most of the folk who end up getting beaten are caught up in the circumstances, if the muggers don’t do you. You are lucky if you escape from the police.
I will not downplay the serious allegations against the IEBC, maybe they can be validated and indeed it could be justified to hound the commission out of office, I worry about the nature and dimension of the demonstrations. I worry about the pronouncements, I live and work away from home. Sucks when a colleague keeps asking:
” Dude what is happening in Kenya, when do you guys go into elections; you think people will fight again?”
When I hear authorities talk about the fact that the police have acquired new equipment, and are raring to test the crowd control weapons during protests it makes my head spin.
See, I have been caught up in several stampedes, in demos that I had nothing to do with and chanced to be at the wrong place at the right time; it’s a nasty scene. Mostly women, tumbling over, losing their weaves and shedding their heels to give them mobility as they literally run nowhere. What is this thing about grabbing and clinging unto the next equally petrified guy in dangerous situations?
The police seem possessed then, as they mete out horrid punishment to any human they prowl on and manage to corner. Teargas chokes and suffocates, you die a few times.
May sanity prevail, I see these #IEBCMustGo debacle quickly evolving into #IGMustGo or #KimaiyoMustGo.
We have on occasions demanding national dialogue buried our reasonable selves, the masks we wear of dignity have been shelved in the vaults and we have recalled the raw energy to rally behind our tribal doyens, and pour vitriol on social media. It really is no longer about the IEBC, it really is Us against Them.
At the rate stuff is happening, someone will die again in the streets next Monday, like I hear someone died yesterday. Peaceful protests are allowed in the constitution but they remain a mirage. Revolutions have started in the streets, but at what price?
BwanaSagala 