Hey, people, it’s either I’m hallucinating or I’ve lost my mind. Did we at any point in time rebase our economy when Jubilee came to power?  Were we not declared by a legitimate international body like the IMF or World Bank that we are a middle-income economy?

Did we not receive a stamp of approval that our country had safely flown past the dangerous waters of 3rd world status into a middle-income economy? Well, it’s either that our wings broke and we fell right back into the murky waters of a 3rd world status or our president when he spoke in Naivasha was under the influence of a strong substance.

Here I was, bragging to my friends from the land of Magufuli how they can never catch up with us. “We lead, others follow,” I would proudly chant. Yet I was simply counting my eggs before they hatched. How did we go back to a 3rd world status that fast? I had mastered this line with the laser beam precision, “We are one of the biggest service driven economy in the East African region yet we are the biggest,” without batting an eyelid.

Little did I know that we share the same fate as the region? We not only share borders, we also share the unfortunate reality that we cannot feed our people. The only thing that ties us together, in one common yet the unfortunate narrative is the fact that we can’t provide basic services to enable our people to live a dignified life.

With all our SGR etc, the same challenges that the war-torn country of Somalia faces are the ones we face.

We outrun other countries in the marathons including the Ethiopians, yet the only thing we have never outrun is our passion for looting. We have actually won many trophies in this sector. We should introduce a national cabinet where we will be lining up every single trophy of shame that we bag abroad.

Yes, our reputation has been soiled thoroughly. That we are a nation of looters is a reputation stuck on us like a tick on a cow.

We are firmly ahead of the world. The only baton that we have safely passed without dropping from one president to the other is a legacy of inequality, corruption and mismanagement.

Over fifty years after independence, our people are still dying of hunger.

Over fifty years after independence, we have acquired a dubious reputation like that of a skunk, that we are a nation whose leadership is driven by one’s accent. We would rather install a dog to lead us, as long it is coming from the right region.

Yes, 50 years after independence, our people still dig water from dry riverbeds. It’s like all the advancements in our country haven’t trickled down to the common mwananchi who battles the same demons his great grandfather fought; ignorance, disease and poverty.

Dedan Kimathi must surely be rolling in his grave. Oginga Odinga must surely be cursing the years he spent fighting for the deliverance of this country.

As a nation, we have great comedians. Yes, the gods aren’t crazy, we are. All of us, the over 40 Million of us deserves to be locked in Mathari. Together with the people who tried to escape when the doctor’s strike started. How then would you explain a nation, riddled in irony, woven together with contradictions and wrapped in a shawl of misfortune?

It’s too hard being Kenyan. When you have finally put your head high up like the horn of a unicorn, when you beat your chest with pride to your neighbors who are 3rd world, when we finally have something to smile about, then we are slapped into reality that it was only a dream; a dream that has since turned into a gory nightmare.

Yes, we are like the people who joyfully sang while preparing their beds with thorns only for them to realise that they couldn’t lay on it. We are the people, having built bridges that were meant to usher us into a land of milk and honey, savagely cut it off because Egypt had far much more fruits, and we are vegetarians.

Living in Kenya is hard; harder than milking water from a rock and riskier than milking a buffalo. You constantly bargain the pros and cons. Though you didn’t attend any accounting class, the conditions in this country have turned us into Return on Investment (ROI) experts. You must ask yourself, should I milk the buffalo and risk my intestines and all other internal organs being scattered into the four winds of the earth or should I safely stay away and live longer?

Your heart is constantly stabbed, abused and hemorrhaged by a plethora of issues. As you try to pull out the dagger of a famine that has given our nation the ‘skinny Kenyans’ tag, your government stabs the wound of the doctor’s strike that had just been plastered by accepting food donation from a country that is a desert. It is a hard task to live in this country.

Even Solomon with all his wisdom would have given up on this country. Even Martin Luther King would have given an “I have a nightmare” speech in this country.

Because the moment you finally manage to pick yourself up from a dubious salary increment from members of parliament, like a suppressed volcano, with all violence, a double-edged samurai sword of Laikipia conflict is driven into your heart. You wonder why the Government has certainly made it a priority yet for months; Kenyans have been killing themselves in that part of the country. Oh, I’ve forgotten. Why was I expecting much yet the black skin of a poor person in this country cannot move the ‘immortals?’ Why would they waste their precious time responding while the bourgeoisies haven’t been touched yet?

It only becomes an issue when the sacred white skin of a ranch owner is touched and the international media picks the story. Woe unto you Kenyans. You poor hoi polloi, scum of the earth and the manifestation of the gods must be crazy. How dare you expect anything from your Government? How dare you raise your hopes of salvation from a rich man’s parlor?

Fellow Kenyans, I don’t know how we have survived the 50 years of independence. To me, living and loving this country is like being in an abusive relationship. Have you ever been thoroughly wrecked emotionally by someone you love? Have you ever given your heart, fully trusting that the one who takes it will preserve it yet right in your face, they crush it like fine powder and blow it away? Not when you are gone, right in your face, while they are ignoring your pleas of “please stop.” It takes a frozen heart to survive living in this country. While you have made up your mind to stay faithful, yet your partner keeps on stealing glances of other behinds and beautiful chest as they pass by. You hope that this too shall pass because as you have been told, all men are born polygamous. As you wait for him to change, you catch him in the act as he moans from pleasure from stolen waters.

This country has become adulterers. We flirt with the west during the day yet at night, we are comfortable in bed with the Chinese. As they advance us loans, with no strings attached, you realise that the only thing you own in this relationship is your body that is being depreciated by the Asian thrust at a fast speed without being given a chance to catch a breath.

Kenya is like that abusive boyfriend who knows too well that you love him yet because of his own internal inadequacies, he turns you into a punching bag. Your eyes are red like a ripe tomato. Your scars are evident for the world to see yet you try in vain to cover it with a deep layer of ‘Gaborone road’ makeup.

Kenya my country, what must I do to deliver you from the hands of your abusers?

Kenya is that man who knows her worth yet he doesn’t have the balls to go for it. Every day he trades his birthright for a cheap bowl of diluted soup. Like Esau, he is more concerned about his short-term needs of winning the next elections without thinking of the next generation. Therefore he trades his place at the table of men, to feed the pigs and occasionally indulge in their delicacies. He would rather pay those who steal from him humongous amounts of money in salaries, allowances, benefits and car grants but deny the engine of the nation their much-needed pay.

Yes, we are a country that slaps the doctors. We are a country that has exalted buffoonery over reason. We are firmly behind the madmen of our markets.

My only worry is that as we throw our country to the hands of the dogs, will it be in a state that the dogs would deem worthy?

Loved the piece? Follow the writer on twitter @dannishodongo and like his page Dannish Odongo. He is a journalist and a political commentator. For any enquiries, you can reach him on +254720348865.

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Politics & International Affairs
Author: Dannish Odongo

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