It has been an interesting season of serious awakening in Kenya, a time of confusion by powers that be, a week of little birds flying out of their nests; a week of removing respect where it is not due and giving respect where it is due.
I belong to generation-X, the one notorious for sitting on its high horses and looking down on other generations, especially the one they birthed – generation-Z. To us, they are the spoilt generation with little hope of survival, and forget the little fact that by labelling them as spoilt, we are admitting to failure of good parenthood.
We viewed them as the people whose most important thing in life is a smartphone and Wifi. If you have a generation-Z in the house, and I have two of them, you know the only thing with ability to disrupt their lives is the absence of Wifi. We have used it as a tool of negotiation and it works better than the threat of starving them – yet they love their food a lot.
They spend too much time on TikTok watching content that raises our blood pressures. We accuse them of having no ambition that goes beyond trending on social media. When we are completely frustrated with them, we call them brain dead, even though we are the same people who have bought them those phones and paid for the Wifi.
The accusations are mostly true. The only problem is that, we, the enablers, act like what is happening has nothing to do with us. We shamelessly side-eye them. We like to pretend that we do not check out those same videos that excite them.
The only difference is that, they are happy to confess to what they love. And as this week has demonstrated, they are equally comfortable to confessing to what they do not like.
Generation-Z has humbled the whole country. First, they shocked us when they left their cocoons and secure Wifi to have running battles with riot police. We were shocked, because we did not know that they were capable of realities beyond their phones and computer games. Generation-Z has, in so many words, told us that they have been watching us make grave mistakes with our selection of leaders, and they are here to correct those mistakes. Generation-Z has shown us that you can fight as viciously not with throwing stones to the police and the leaders, but by throwing lethal words.
That to be heard, you do not have to use violence – words are as effective. I was in one of those demonstrations, and I spent more time watching the young people than demonstrating. They are focused. They are fearless. They are informed.
They are apolitical. They are educated, they are not afraid of research thus they have read the contentious bill, discussed it amongst themselves, like they do with assignments. They know what they want. Change.
I am from a generation borne by parents whose solution to everything was violence; you answered back at them, they beat you. You refused to respond, they beat you. It was no wonder then, that our demonstrations were all about violence.
Then we gave birth, and we were intentional on doing things differently. Instead of beating our children, we spoke to them, even literally went down to their level to speak about issues. We listened to their grievances. We compromised.
We rewarded them. We let them know that their opinions mattered. Now they are young adults, but the leadership style is archaic and dictatorial, and they cannot identify. Generation-Z does not understand how they are not being listened to. The leaders, some of who have been around for three generations, are confused, because they are not used to this energy, being publicly disrespected and questioned. There is a stalemate, but if there is one thing I am sure of is that generation-Z is not going to blink first. They have the energy, and the means, and they do not care about tribal pride, political affiliations or class wars.
Change is inevitable, and it is here.
This piece is dedicated to the two young men who lost their lives during the demonstrations. Rex Masai and Evans Kiratu, I speak your names. May your deaths not be in vain.
thevillager254@gmail.com
