By Mugambi Nandi
A couple of days ago, sections of the media reported that the waheshimiwa in our National Assembly had meekly beaten a hasty retreat and accepted the peanuts offered by the stingy Ms Sarah Serem. The next day they reported that the waheshimiwa had triumphantly sprinted (their collective weight notwithstanding) to their respective banks, to draw their seven-figure salary, no doubt the reward for much labour and sweat in the service of the nation. Although I am yet to establish which of the two reports was accurate, the sudden calm and serenity around Parliamentary square, would seem to suggest that their battle with Mrs Serem was not in vain.
Either way, the manner in which the agitation for higher pay was undertaken was so dramatic and full of menaces as to leave no space and time for honour. It was with this in mind that the evil - I beg your pardon - civil, society christened the waheshimiwa ‘MPigs’. I agree with my friend Andrea Bohnstedt (who is probably unaware of this relationship) that the analogy is unfair to the pigs. Firstly, the pigs have not made any unreasonable demands.
They are easily satisfied with left-overs, and the occasional mud-bath. Surely we cannot begrudge the creatures their little pleasure, especially if it improves the quality of pork. Secondly, Sir Winston Churchill must have thought long and hard before uttering these words: “I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.”
Taking their cue from the waheshimiwa, teachers and nurses have threatened dire consequences if their pay is not increased at once, again. If they have been getting what they have been demanding over the years, it is safe to assume that their salaries are now the envy of many.
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I suspect the weathermen might have contemplated joining the chorus at some point, although he might take time to learn the melody.
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It is said that numbers do not lie. Those numbers, I am reliably informed, state that Kenya’s human capital is one of the best in Africa, and among the top 50 in the world. I must confess that I am not a numbers person. I was not particularly fond of my Math teacher (now he knows). Be that as it may, I set out on an expedition to look for evidence of this potent human capital. I started off on our roads, which is where all expeditions must begin. The chaos and the madness I saw did not support the numbers. I then passed by the civil service, before calling on City Hall, Lands Office, Kenyatta National Hospital, Kenya Oil Refineries, Kenya Meat Commission, and a host of other paragons of excellence. As my boss back in my banking days used to say, there is noise in the numbers.
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It is no laughing matter, and I shall not make light of it. I am referring to the small matter of a deportation, whose unintended consequence seems to be a closely related phenomenon called detention. Generalisations are generally not good; therefore I shall not make any. Permit me, if you will, to just say that only Nigerians are capable of doing some things. Let us hope Ambassador Amina and her Cabinet colleague Lenku will resolve this matter speedily, and that there will be no egg on our face at the end of it.
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Every so often, a new word or phrase catches on Kenyans. The first word that comes to mind is “peculiar”, which we would never have known were it not for one Michael Joseph. Mr Joseph is said to have referred to Kenyans’ ‘peculiar calling habits’, in relation to their making phone calls at exactly eight o’clock when, as the dominant mobile service provider, he would magnanimously commence low off-peak calling rates. Next up was “stepping aside”, the mantra among the political class and bureaucrats who were facing some form of investigation or other, involving abuse of office or corruption, or both. When you stepped aside it meant that you received all the benefits of your office for months without having to show up at work. We then promulgated a new Constitution, and the word promulgation hit social media like a tsunami.
But before it did, Speaker Marende had bequeathed to us the phrase “sufficiently philanthropic”, in describing the patriotic feelings that make us pay our taxes even before they are due. We shall skip the debate around who is and who is not “middle class” as it is divisive and unnecessary.
The latest entrant is “croissant”, thanks to a little incident in one of the classy eateries in the leafy suburbs of Nairobi. There has been much debate on social media as to the pronunciation of the word, and the recipe for the product, including a lively debate as to what sort of beverage it might be, and why advance orders have to be placed.
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Checkmate defined: You tell your wife that you saw a lady who looked exactly like her. She asks whether the lady was beautiful.
You cannot say no, and you dare not say yes. I don’t know who takes the credit for that bit of wisdom. I don’t.