Why I will no longer complain about our economy

Fellow Kenyans, it is back to business. Well, 2019 was a tough year on many fronts, at least for me. I am not gifted in deception, or putting up appearances. So I’m usually honest about both my experiences and predicaments, no matter how ugly.

The main problem facing most Kenyans, not just in 2019 but for the last few years, is financial dismemberment. From blue chip companies on the stock market, to the mama mboga in the estate, it is all about the money. That is, the lack of it. 

Indeed, one wonders, who is making money in this economy? I see multinational companies constructing multi-million-dollar hospitality facilities and ask myself; who are these guys?

Apparently, whoever we contracted to do our international public relations has delivered beyond what we had bargained for. Otherwise, I do not see the moral basis of investing humongous finances in opulence, amidst squalor and utter hopelessness.

Just like the real estate bubble, I pity these African investment newbies who, sooner or later, might be forced to sell off these prime properties for a song, or tremendously scale down their long term financial projections.

I’m a cynic, of course. That is what being a realistic Kenyan is all about, unless you are also on the sleaze train. Things are bad and it does not matter on which side your bread is buttered. Soon, there will be no butter for anyone!   

I thought  King Kaka’s hit Wajinga Nyinyi would finally jolt us to some real righteous anger against the deepening rot. Sadly, as we are wont to, we simply discussed the tirade viciously on the media, and moved on with our misery.

We quickly returned our heads in the sand, unable to sacrifice our cheap comforts for more long-lasting happiness. Indeed, we are damned fools. That is why the political class and economic hoodlums are literally peeing and vomiting on our feet.

But my anger has gone full circle. I have decided to let it go. There is no need to beat one’s head against the wall, or keep strumming a guitar to goats. Until the time when we all agree we have hit rock bottom, one will be mistaken for being the mad man in the market for howling alone.

A popular saying in my community says that at least the owner of a burning house warms himself as it is being razed down by fire. Therefore, my New Year resolution is to have “parte after parte”, by partaking in the spoils of national disintegration.

Why should I be the one who can see the invisible, and able to read between the lines? It is a pity that in this side of the world, we still live like Neanderthals, in an age where great nations are competing on who can explore furthest around earth.  

May be it is not that serious, after all. I wish you a blast in 2020.

—The writer is a communication expert, and public policy analyst. [email protected]