Tribute to our Loving Dad

Dad, who could love us more that you?

Who could be as selfless as you?

Oh, who could hug as warmly as you?

Only you Dad

Only you who did not care who was watching

 

Dad, who could measure up to your humility?

Who could come down to our level?

Oh, who could be so firm yet so kind?

Only you Dad,

Only you did not care about what you owned

 

Dad, who could be as patient with us as you?

Who could answer all the myriad funny questions?

Who could stop a car that many times for potty break?

Only you Dad

Only you who was never tired of us

 

Dad, who could muster that much attention?

Who could listen that attentively to all our childhood chatter?

Who could take everything that seriously from us?

Only you Dad,

Only you who gave us your undivided attention

 

Dad, who could make us laugh the way you did?

Who could work a joke the way you did?

Who could have such a humorous way of looking at everything?

Only you Dad

Only you who could make us laugh at ourselves

 

Dad, who could teach as well as you?

Who could break down information for young minds like you did?

Who could make the most complex concepts look easy?

Only you Dad

Only you who taught us the power of saving

 

Dad, who can describe you on a piece of paper?

Who can mention every sweet thing you ever did or said?

Who can explain you, an enigma?

Only you Dad

Only you who was more than a father to us, you who was and always will be our best friend

We can’t say a true good bye, because you will always live in our hearts.

 

Joining the “Walking Class”

As I reported last week, I am back in the city. I am now working as a driver which is why I had a bone to pick with arrogant pedestrians. Today am not complaining because I feel much better after getting it off my chest. I am enjoying my time in the city and this time, I have decided not to stay in the village. I have settled down among the real Kenyans.

For those who are curious as to the abode of the Layman, I will share on condition that you don’t start stalking me. I board matatu or bus number 46 which goes to Kawangare. I do not go up to Kawangare itself. I alight at a bus stop known as Amboseli road because that is the road I take to go to my house. Amboseli road is lined on both sides by posh houses with spacious compounds and mature gardens. It is what you would correctly refer to as a leafy suburb.

As you can now tell, my neighbours on Amboseli road are well to do. You can tell this by the nice cars they drive (the kind with factory-tinted windows and electric sunroofs). You can also tell by the well-fed guards who open the gates. Now before you start congratulating me on my newfound affluence, I don’t live on this part of Amboseli road. The first one kilometre is tarmacked and that is the part I have just described.

Amboseli road continues long after the tarmac ends. It is this part where the Layman has his den. It is not tarmacked and in the few days I have been there, I have experienced suffocating dust and slippery mud. You can count the number of trees in this area but you can’t count any flowers because there are none. We are practical people. We only grow what we need. Whenever you hear about the people of Amboseli road, be assured this is the group being discussed.

I know I have described the bus number you need to take to reach Amboseli road. However, a lot of my neigbours (myself included) rarely take the bus. We take “route 11” (which is another Kenyan name for walking). When my rich Amboseli road neighbours walk, they do it in their ‘Nike’ walking shoes and designer track suits. They do it in a leisurely fashion and pace, probably as a result of threats by their personal physicians.

When people from my side of Amboseli road walk, we do it purposefully. We have no special attire so we do it in our work clothes. We also don’t walk at a leisurely pace because that would mean getting late for work. We walk purposefully like soldiers in a marching drill. We don’t know each other so we don’t talk. We take one direction in the morning and the opposite one in the evening. We walk at the same speed so there is usually no need for overtaking. We are happy because we have a job even though we can’t always afford fare in one of the dingy No. 46 matatus.

I live in a plot with at least 200 single rooms on three levels; in several haphazardly arranged blocks. I don’t know anybody yet but I have observed single people, and families with children living in the 11 foot square rooms. My immediate neighbour on one side is a man with a wife and 4 young children. The room on the other side is shared by two men (I don’t know if they have families upcountry). In all the blocks, I find children playing in the narrow verandas but all is usually quiet after 8 p.m.

The working class is usually classified into white collar and blue collar. In Amboseli road however, we all belong to one class. We are the “Walking Class”. We are also the true working class because you will need us to drive your car, do your dishes, walk your dog, and guard you while you sleep. You will also need us to take care of your baby as you go out to make that money that we all need so much. I know Marslow will probably disagree with me when I say that it is us who have achieved self-actualisation but this is the truth. If the happy moments I hear through the wall as the kids welcome their father home in the evening is anything to go by, then I believe I am living among the right people.

Walking Licences for Pedestrians

I am back in the big city after several years away in mashambani. I am now the true Layman in that I am having to learn everything afresh. This shamba la mawe (concrete jungle) is so different from when I roamed this city; young, wild, and free. Everything has now been changed so as to intimidate me, or so it seems. I have to consciously think of where am going because it is now easier than ever to get lost. The fact that am coming back as a driver does not help matters. I am having to learn on the job. I am a work in progress.

We don’t have to admire big roads in the movies. The movies have come to us, in the form of super highways and bypasses in the places where there used to be footpaths back in the day. While I could always brag about my knowledge in how to read traffic lights to my fellow Laymen in Eldoret, I have seen a new concept which I had not left in Nairobi. The traffic lights now have countdown clocks. They make me feel like an astronaut about to lift off in a rocket. The only thing remaining is to have a loud speaker reading the countdown out loud.

I am impressed by Nairobi drivers because they are very compliant with all the myriad rules. I however have a problem with pedestrians. They seem to have acquired a rare kind of confidence which borders on arrogance. Like the drivers, pedestrians also have their own lights – complete with a countdown clock. For the life of me however, I cannot tell why they don’t use them.

When you are driving, you patiently wait for the lights to go green as you quietly whisper the seconds as they countdown. Then, just as you are allowed to go, the proud Nairobi pedestrians step off the kerb and waddle onto the road with the gait of peacocks. However narrow the road is, this pack of self-righteous pedestrians will make sure that they use as much time as it takes for the lights to go red before they reach the other side. By now you are fuming and these folks on foot will sneer back at you as if to say “Utado?!” (What’s the worst you can do?).

If you ask me, someone is out to punish those who are rich enough to afford cars. What he forgets (whoever he is) is that not everyone who is driving on the road owns a car. Some of us are just employees who use the cars during the day and walk home in the evening. If you thought you are punishing a rich man, you are wrong. I am your fellow hustler. Spare a thought for poor drivers who have to accomplish their daily work quotas even with your spirit of non-cooperation on the road.

In order for me to qualify to drive a car on the road, I had to undergo lessons and pass a test. To get a driving job, I had to undergo a rigorous interview process where among other things, I had to prove that I could drive a car safely. I also have to undergo serious vetting every time a traffic policeman stops me. I therefore find it ironic that one only needs to be able to put one foot in front of another to walk in Nairobi. This is somebody who has to use the same road and follow the same rules as me who is a full professional driver. It is for this reason that I recommend a Walker’s License especially for those who intend to conduct that dangerous activity in our beautiful city.

With such a license, a proper curriculum could be developed and comprehensive training carried out before testing and issuance of a license. Random police checks could then be carried out on people arriving in Nairobi on public transport, and those deemed unqualified to walk our streets sent back home on the same matatus they came in. This would definitely increase the respect between drivers and pedestrians because it would be a case of one professional beholding another. There would be less accidents involving pedestrians and definitely less traffic jams. Walking would cease to be the most dangerous form of transport. But then, that’s just me; and am only a Layman!

P.S. Did you know that (theoretically at least) you could have set off the gridlock traffic jam during your lunch break that will delay your reaching home in the evening? It is all to do with your running the pedestrians’ red light just outside your office.

 

Junk Food should be Categorised as a Narcotic

A narcotic is defined as a drug or other substance affecting mood or behaviour and sold for non-medical purposes, especially an illegal one. I know from the definition that most of you are almost signing out because you don't think your beloved junk food should appear in the same sentence as drugs. Before you go, I beg that you hear me out so that you may make an informed decision.

Junk food is defined as food of low nutritional value that is typically produced in the form of packaged snacks needing little or no preparation. From the definition, it sounds very innocent. However, once you get to know the effects of junk food on your body, you will realise it's not as safe as it sounds.

Processed Food
Almost all food getting to our tables today is processed in some way. People no longer go to their kitchen garden to get their fresh produce. Instead, they visit the supermarket where they get even their vegetables pre-packed. Grain food such as maize and wheat is rarely sold in it's basic unprocessed form. Most is shelled and fine-ground with most of the components removed, save for the starchy part. This means that even your beloved ugali or chapatti is highly processed even before you cook it.

Addictive Designer Food
I have seen the labels on potato crisps packets. They use such words as "perfectly salted" or, "one is never enough". This means that someone has sat down and designed the food all the way from the way it tastes, to the way it "melts" in your mouth. You will never forget the first bite. Once you eat this food, you are "hooked" for life. You will always find yourself craving for more and you will never have enough of it.

Negative Health Effects of Junk Food
I will not be saying anything new if I talk about the profound negative effects of junk food. The only reason I have for repeating the lesson is the apparent ignorance of most people on what their eating habits are doing to them.

Obesity is on the rise due to an increased intake of junk food. It is unfortunate that this is afflicting even young children who are often weaned on a diet of junk food. Obesity by itself would not be so bad if it didn't come with so many other health implications. The main ones that come to mind are hypertension, type 2 diabetes, and joint problems.

High cholesterol levels may not always be connected to obesity but are closely connected. An intake of foods high in cholesterol (especially bad cholesterol, found in junk food), leads to a build-up of the same with the accompanying problems such as constricted arteries.

Extensive Advertisement
It is now illegal to advertise cigarettes due to the harm they cause to users' health. Narcotic drugs are illegal and so even the issue of advertising does not arise. There are calls to ban the advertisement of alcohol. The advertisement of junk food however, continues unabated. This is in spite of the strain they are putting on health services in managing the resultant conditions from their use.

Call to Re-Categorise Junk Food
I think that junk food causes the same (if not more) harm as drugs. I therefore think something should be done to discourage people from eating it. If that is not possible, then it should be taken in moderation (like a controlled drug). If this is not done, we are going to have a health crisis. That is my take, but then, am just a Layman. Who takes me seriously?