Brain Drain

A journalist was interviewing an economist on matters trade and out of curiosity, I decided to listen in. I am not particularly well versed with matters international let alone trade, but this guy seemed to explain everything so simply that it seemed interesting to learn a thing or two. The economist was explaining a point about international trade and how this thing called “fair trade” among nations is nonexistent. He said there is nothing fair in trade and trading nations are not benign. So when I looked up the meaning of the word benign I was shocked to find out that our trading partners can never be kind or gentle in their dealings. Then I remembered the common phrase “trade wars” that we use all the time. During the interview the focus of my mind shifted to an incident a few years ago when Dr. Mukhisa Kituyi was Kenya’s trade minister. 

It was one of those international trade meetings organized I think by the world trade organization in Cancun Mexico or some other South American state. I remember seeing in the news African delegates led by Kituyi, walking out of the meeting in protest. There was either a misunderstanding among African trading partners or African delegates had figured that they were being cheated in the trade negotiations. Whatever the misunderstanding was, it must have been something serious.

International trade involves complicated trade arrangements and agreements between and among countries. They call them bilateral and multilateral agreements. Western countries enter into agreements with their Asian or South American counterparts leaving African States out using complex trading barriers called tariffs. When Bill Clinton was president in the 90’s, he made provisions for Africa to be able to trade competitively in the global market through a program called Africa Growth & Opportunity Act or AGOA. Perhaps Africans felt they were being cheated out of this deal as well because Kituyi and his allies made lots of noise. I think he had read the handouts well before the meeting and was prepared for a faceoff with the big boys right from the time he arrived in Mexico.

Months before such big meetings are held, handouts are usually sent out to respective cabinet secretaries to review and make any recommendations if necessary before the main meeting where delegates just attend for a get together process called ratification. Being the Africans we are, I am sure our cabinet secretaries do not find time to read these documents. Perhaps they read them on the plane on their way to the meeting which does no good in terms of careful scrutiny. Finding the best places to shop and stay during such overseas trips also preoccupies their attention. But Kituyi had read all of it. He knew there was something twisted in the handouts and was determined not to let it pass. It was such a big issue that the president of global trade called him in for a back door meeting. Perhaps the impact of what Kituyi did was about to change the way trade is conducted globally and this was going to upset not just bilateral and multilateral agreements, but also the stability of western economies. 

I think they saw Kituyi as a ‘loose cannon’ or a ‘monkey with a gun’. That is why they called him and asked him to be the president of united nations centre for trade and development (UNCTAD), with an office far away from his African comrades. There, they would show him how his actions would have resulted in a major global economic meltdown, and possibly even trigger a world war. I think they told him how he was lucky that Kenya is a friendly nation and how members of the security council have voted in his favor to head the UN trade body. They must have told him how he would be able to travel home twice a year with fully paid round trips to any city of his choice for holiday. 

Have we heard from Kituyi since then? No. What is he doing in UNCTAD? I don’t know. Are Africans getting their fair share of global market access? No. Removing Kituyi from the African trade equation was a stroke of genius. Now African states can been drained of their potential and right to trade fairly in the global arena and they won’t have someone to shout about it.

The tragedy of brain drain happened also in Tanzania recently. A brilliant engineer called Ali Mufuruki made a speech in London titled “Africa is not rising”. He pulled the curtain on Africa for the world to see. He pointed out with facts and figures that indeed this western coined slogan of ‘Africa Rising’ was misleading. At best the slogan was fashioned as a smoke screen for Africans to let down their guard before it is stripped of all its newly discovered wealth of oil, gas, diamond and gold. Ali went further to let the cat out of the basket by showing the true cause of a future world war. To my surprise and to that of everyone else, the next world war will not be over oil and gas but over fresh water. Almost every country that has made explorations for oil and gas has found something and in any case, global prices for oil and gas have fallen and continue to fall. Almost all the countries that would start a war over these commodities have it in plenty. Fresh water is the new gold the three African lakes: Victoria, Tanganyika and Malawi hold more than 30 percent of the world’s fresh water. For the queen of England, president of the United States or China or Bill Gates, these are international security matters and I am sure they would be concerned about a civilian making such information available to the public. “This is not the kind of information to bandy around carelessly”, I am sure is what they would say to their aides before asking them to figure out how to deal with Ali and prepare a program for damage control.

Ali has been offered a big job in Europe to sit in a panel that advises on Africa’s growth and potential. I think what will happen is that all his presentations will be confiscated and handed new ones by Adam Smith and Karl Marx. Then he will be offered opportunities to give public lectures at Oxford and Cambridge. Africans will be left fooled that they are rising when in fact they are in deep slumber. By the time they wake up in 2030, they will be wondering how fast time flies.  

Perhaps not all brain drain from Africa is bad. Robinson Githae was once cabinet minister in charge of finance. During the drought of 2003/2005 he encouraged Kenyans to consider eating rats and mice that were plentiful. Even today Kenyan’s are faced with drought and extreme hunger due to failed rains. Pastoralist communities are losing their livestock due to scarce pasture and several people in north eastern and coast provinces have resorted to eating wild fruits. Robinson’s remedy for this kind of adversity was that people should learn to eat rodents. Well, this amused some people, myself included, but this was until I saw armies of rats in Maringo market along Jogoo Road. Let’s just say that Robinson is lucky to get to use his ingenuity at the Kenyan embassy in Washington, even though I think he should have earned a spot in some remote station in North Korea or Papua New Guinea.

Move the embassy

Man shot dead outside US embassy in Nairobi

This is the headline in today’s ‘Nation’ newspaper. The captioned picture shows a man sprawled on the ground with American security forces appearing to collect samples and conduct forensic investigations at the scene. The story goes on to say that the man was a passerby who attempted to snatch the firearm of a general service unit officer who was on duty at the site. Apparently the man got shot after he stabbed the security officer in a failed attempt to grab the firearm. He is a suspected terrorist, so the story goes but since he is dead, we will never be able to tell conclusively. But I do not really care whether he was a terrorist or just another trigger happy criminal on the loose. I am concerned about the Americans and their installations that seem to attract so much violence from terrorist groups and organizations wherever they are.

In 1998, the US embassy was located in downtown Nairobi at the roundabout of HailleSelasie and Moi Avenues when it was bombed down. It resulted in the loss and damage to the lives of hundreds of innocent individuals, some whose lives changed forever and live with scars to date. Several other buildings in town were damaged and at the time, it was difficult for me to understand why that embassy had to be located in such a densely populated spot if they knew full well that they were in the cross-hairs of terrorist groups. The embassy in Tanzania was also bombed in what seemed like a coordinated attack. A few years ago the US embassy in Benghazi, Libya was overrun and destroyed by terror groups that ended up killing the US ambassador himself. I don’t know why terrorists choose to attack these embassies instead of landing in Boston, New York or Los Angeles and take their battles with the US empire in their own land. After all, the US brings their troops to the Middle East in Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria to battle it out in the desert heat and dust. 

Kenya hosts and has no problems with the US’s real or imagined enemies. It is time the Kenya government put a stop to these war games between the US and their enemies. Their enemies are not necessarily our enemies. They have turned Kenya and many other African cities into playgrounds with deadly weapons. The African Union’s goal of silencing guns in the continent by 2020 will also not be realized if this is left to go on. Whatever the American foreign policy is on terrorism, they would lessen the damage if they isolated their embassies to locations that do not put the lives of ordinary individuals at risk. I can only imagine that the GSU officer who got stabbed wasn’t prepared for it, after all he is probably trained to handle general security situations, not armed attacks. None of the US staff or security personnel was harmed even though they were the prime targets. From now on, I am sure security arrangements are going to change, affecting the freedoms of movement and association of everyone along UN Avenue and the surrounding areas.

      

The US embassy moved and built their new embassy in Gigiri about ten years ago. They built it close to the UN headquarters, placing their main entrance directly opposite the main gate of the United Nations headquarters. I remember at the time, they wanted the UN to relocate its gate to some other location even when the UN had been on site for over 30 years. My worry is that the UN in Nairobi has more than 3,000 employees with nationalities from all over the world and their lives are put at risk because of sheer proximity to the US installation. What would happen if there is a chemical weapons attack in the area? What about the neighborhoods of Runda, Rosslyn and Thigiri? How do the residents live peacefully knowing that bombs meant for the embassy could drop on them? What about the sophisticated communication technologies the US is probably using to counter terrorism and for its own defenses? Could exposure to radio wave communication and other defense systems have any effect on the lives and well-being of people living within a five kilometer radius of the embassy? 

Given new technologies such as drones and satellites, the US should choose to outsource their ground operations to local authorities or local armies. Their enemies are after harming their physical bodies not their property. If they can stay as far away as possible and conduct their affairs remotely using drones and/or satellite communication, then many locals will be safe from stray bombs and bullets.

Does Africa need more engineers?

Engineer vs fundi

Nairobi suburbs are littered with highrise commercial and residential buildings. Much of them built by fundis, even though they call themselves engineers. The availability of certified building plans from local authorities and fixed building codes and standard building materials have relegated the engineer to a mere supervisor or foreman (and many fundis enjoy their work in the foreman’s absence!).

Costly to train

At couple of years ago at the University of Nairobi’s engineering faculty, professors used to brag that in the hierarchy of things, it was God, them (the professors), then the rest of mankind; and the distance between God and them was smaller than the distance between them and the rest of mankind! How things have changed? The faculties of computer science and business continue to be the biggest revenue earners for the institution. Engineering students no longer have the patience to stay longer in school as their comrades drop off to join tech hubs to build mobile phone apps that turn their lives around in a matter of months.

Changing technologies

Looking at the standard gauge railway being constructed to link Mombasa and Nairobi, many cannot help but wonder how the Chinese can make a piece of cake of such a complex undertaking. It is as though the whole contraption is manufactured and assembled on site. All they do is level the ground on which the line is going to pass, with compacted mounds of soil and reinforced concrete columns; and then trolley down prefabricated slabs on which to overlay the rail lines. The work is accomplished at an astonishing speed. It is difficult to understand how the Indians took so many years building the old railway line in the early 1900’s. It is impressive to see many locals working alongside the Chinese on this project. The technology transfer from this kind of work can have very good returns. Case in point is a type of green/black soil found in Naivasha that the construction industry never knew could be used as building sand, until they saw Chinese firms using it to make concrete slabs. We are thankful for the pressure this has eased from the over eroded riverbed sands of Machakos!

In manufacturing, the 21^st century engineer will need to familiarize with the microchip, nanotechnology and material science. Much of industry will be driven by the microprocessor and electromagnetic machines will be replaced by silicon chips. It is sad that the biggest paper manufacturing plant in Africa, Panpaper Mills in Webuye is on its death bed courtesy of obsolete technology. In an economy where it costs 5 times more to manufacture a product than it does in China surely death wouldn’t have come slower.  I will avoid talking about sugar, cotton and coffee because we will soon be learning about their manufacture in history books. 

Clustered development

In Africa, villages, neighborhoods, towns and even cities are designed with peculiarities. Buildings in a city such as Nairobi are markedly different from buildings in Mombasa, same as roads and other infrastructures.  Even within suburbs, the design and build of affluent areas contrast sharply with those of other less affluent ones; the design of houses in my village in Nyanza is also different from those in my friend’s village in Busia.  From an engineering and design perspective this differentiation may be due to a number of factors from climate, terrain to culture and heritage but one remarkable factor is that we like to develop or design like our next door neighbors, make little cosmetic improvements here and there but the overall outcome is the same as the immediate neighbor's. The other remarkable factor is that the same engineer or fundi who designed and built the first unit will probably do the second and third units. The fourth and fifth units will be done by their apprentices or “watu wake wa mkono”. This makes development designs clustered into sort of fiefdoms that point to a master engineer from whom all else borrows and whence a superstructure of hired hands thrives. 

Industries are also clustered in a sort of industrial area or industrial park. And they have their engineers too. In many instances these industrial areas or parks or even EPZ’s (export processing zones) have given rise to informal settlements around them from whence they draw the huge labor force demanded. From within this huge labor force emerges a select few who will specialize in their work to the point of being labeled 'engineers'.  As we grow and expand there will be need for more of such as owners of industry will find it cheaper to hire them than to hire trained engineers. Blame it on market forces.

More quantity than quality

The need for Africa isn’t a need for more quality (as in more trained engineers) but more quantity of skilled workforce in the form of plumbers, masons, welders, etc. The role of the trained engineer in the construction site or factory has been reduced to supervisory and observatory. Much of it has been taken back to his office where he handles managerial and administrative issues to do with materials, supplies and contracting. Woe unto such an engineer if has not taken business or computer courses!

Kenya’s housing deficit is in the hundreds of thousand units per year. Given Africa’s growth population and potential, the need for housing is enormous. In 2030, the standard gauge railway will definitely branch south into Tanzania and all the way to Cape Town and branch north into Sudan and all the Way to Cairo.  The western bound line will go through Uganda and DRC and will only be stopped by the Atlantic Ocean at Cape Verde. Along its route will emerge complex and diverse satellite and mega cities. The challenge for engineers won’t be how people will populate and build these cities, but if there will be sufficient clean drinking water to support the budding eosystems.

New finds

Perhaps an area where trained engineers will be needed most is in the continent’s new discoveries of oil and gas, water and geothermal sites.  Since the more established global corporations will fall over themselves to do all the exploration, design and commissioning of the finds, it will be crucial to have local trained engineers who will understand the technicalities of these super attractive investments and be able to correctly advice local leaders. We know how the mzungu entices local leaders with freebies such as luxury cars and suits; clinics and schools for the local communities before stripping the continent of all its valuable resources.        

There will never be a shortage of fundis to build Africa. They know how its done, and there will always be the master engineer on site. The vagaries of climate and terrain have made Africans master engineers of their own environments.   

  

 

  

    

Njoki's Wheelchair

In September of 2016 I went to see a friend in Babadogo on the outskirts of the city of Nairobi. I had not been to this part of town for at least four years because I lived in Kilifi for the most part and only occasionally came to the city to check on the house that I was constructing in Githurai.  The meeting with my friend went well and leaving his office we decided to walk rather than take the noisy matatus to my stage at Allsopps where I would take a bus too my house. 

Walking past the many industrial buildings I was amazed by the huge numbers of young people working in them. There seemed to be more women than men and my friend explained to me that a majority of them worked as tailors in the export processing zone (EPZ) which manufactured garments for the export market.  It was lunchtime and several of the workers poured out and onto the road and roadside to the delight of the many traders and food vendors selling all kinds of foodstuff from fruits like bananas, papayas, oranges and mangoes to fruit juices, salads to hot meals such as beans, chapatis and githeri. The whole spectacle reminded me of the agricultural society of Kenya (ASK) shows that we attended in Kakamega as primary school kids back in the day.

Since my friend had already offered me lunch at his office, so I was least attracted to the sumptuous roadside meals even though I enjoyed the delicious smells of the different foods and fruits on offer. As we trudged on dodging the many hungry individuals and hooting motor vehicles along the road a girl, perhaps a lady, called on us almost begging us to come to her aid. She was in a sort of flower bed of one of the many factories’ well-watered lawns. She was in a wheelchair and was stuck in the wet soil. My friend being well built quickly offered to push her out. I joined him and together we tried to push and pull the wheelchair out of the sticky ground. The afternoon sun seemed to have been roasting the poor girl and she needed to move to the other side of the tree whose shade she had been under and which had since shifted. After a few more toggles with the wheelchair my friend decided that the only way we were going to move her was to lift the wheelchair out of the ground. So I grabbed the front bars of the wheelchair which were very hot from the sun’s heat and my friend grabbed the handlebars at the rear and then counting one-two-three, we lifted the girl and her wheelchair out of the soil and onto stable ground. I broke into a sweat as we wheeled her into the shade. The poor girl, although sweating also from the scorching sun seemed amused by us and I wondered why. Her tin plate that was on her lap fell down as we moved her and when I picked it up and while gasping for air I asked her what was amusing her. “Nothing” she said. I looked at her legs and wondered whether they were broken from a car accident or she was just born with the physical challenge. “What’s your name?” I inquired. I wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate to ask this question but I did anyhow. There is something about a girl smiling that in so many ways says she is willing to talk or is not in any way repulsed by someone talking to her. So I took a chance and in any case I thought to myself, if things didn’t gotoo well I would probably not see her again after this meet. The fact that she was in a wheelchair and I could walk, run and jump anywhere I so wished also made me feel at a more advantageous position compared to her. The heck, I thought she should consider it a privilege that I was even asking her name, because most probably nobody else had spoken to her since morning. She told me her name.  “Well, Njoki, I am not sure if it’s you or your wheelchair but the two of you make quite a heavy load” I said to her. This time she broke into laughter which made my friend and I burst into laughter as well. I could tell she was no more than 20 years old and given her attire and sandals I could tell that she was genuinely poor. She was light skinned but the sun seemed to have scorched her face and hands. The little front wheels of her wheelchair were broken and that is why it could not move. Her tin plate did not have any coins or perhaps she had moved her ‘earnings’ to a hidden pouch, I thought to myself. I got my handkerchief to wipe the sweat off my brow as my friend used his index finger to wipe his and cast it to the ground and clean the rest of it on his backside. 

This time, the girl’s gaze was fixed on my pocket where I had flushed out my handkerchief. Taking her tin plate and in a most subtle way,she tapped it on her knee as if to direct my attention to it. I told her to count our labor of moving her into the shade as our donation. She smiled and as though she wanted to say something, she turned and looked away. I wondered whether it was rude to have said what I did. In the brief period that we moved her I was panting. I thought the wheelchair was quite heavy. I wondered if a wheelchair weighed as much as a bicycle. I thought it should. The girl wasn’t particularly big or fat. I concluded that perhaps I needed to work out more, that I was out of shape as I could not easily haul a girl in a wheelchair without having to pant and sweat like I did. I quickly promised myself to make those stone weights people make at construction sites with concrete molds and metal pipes, and use them to work my biceps and triceps. 

Why did this girl choose to beg from this site? I wondered. Perhaps she lived near here, I thought. But the many people who work in these factories are paid very poorly and very few would be willing to drop even a penny in her tin plate not because they did not care but because they did not have any themselves. I sympathized with Njoki and for a brief moment I thought I could give her all the money I had in my pocket because I had some in my MPESA and some more at home. But I did not. My friend pulled out a 10 shilling coin and put in her plate. “Njoki, wewe ni wetu. Kula hiyo leo, kesho pia ni siku” he said to her. Just then I reasoned that she could be a typical beggar who will always be here no matter how much they make. You see, there once was an investigative journalist who did a documentary detailing how some unscrupulous people use the physically challenged to make money. They showed on tv how these unscrupulous individuals scout for areas to place people like Njoki and then at the end of the day all the money collected is turned in and the beggars only earn a meal and a place to sleep for the night.  The documentary showed the business racket as involving the smuggling into the country physically challenged individuals from as far as Tanzania and Uganda.

I reached for my pocket and pulled out a 20 shilling coin and dropped it in her plate. I had some 50 or 100 shilling notes that I wanted to give her but reading the body language of my friend, I thought it would be ill-advised to give so much. I also did not want to appear to outshine my friend whose guest I was. “Asante”, said Njoki with a smile that seemed as though it was the first 30 shillings she had earned for the day. As we turned to continue on our way I wondered if she had even had lunch or any meal for that matter. I knew my sweat broke easily because I was full of roast beef, ugali and a 500ml bottle of soda. And besides, just before I got to meet my friend, I had munched on four or five ripe bananas because I wasn’t too sure whether I would get lunch at his office. They actually were five bananas but one was too ripe that half of it was soggy, so I just munched on the upper half and threw the other half into the bush. But what about this poor girl? I wondered if she had other monies beside the 30 shillings we had given her. Discreetly, I glanced to see if she was going to transfer the coins to a hidden ‘safe’ so that she appears to other passersby as though she had had nothing in her plate. She did not. “Mungu awabariki” she said, almost shouting. My friend and I turned and waved at her. “Wewe pia ubarikiwe!” we said in unison. I was kind of glad that she was grateful for the little that we offered her. I concluded in my heart that she wasn’t a fraud beggar. Perhaps she was genuinely in need and in fact had the courage to leave home and come and look for money the best way a person with a physical disability would. And she knew there are well wishers a long that stretch of road. Well wishers like my friend and me. As we walked on I was filled with a sense of satisfaction that I had helped a fellow human being whom I did not even know and it felt really good. I thought to myself that God had seen what we both did to help the poor soul and He would bless us in His own way. But even if He did not bless us, the feeling of having done such a small favor to Njoki was so fulfilling. As we moved further away from her hearing range I said to my friend that I sympathized with that girl. “Who will move her tomorrow when the shade shifts in the afternoon?” I said. I thought about the little front wheels of her wheelchair that had broken off and wondered how she wheeled herself around. I wondered if she had someone to push her home in the evening, and how she would get herself out of the soft soil in the garden if she came in the following day. 

“Bwana, hii dunia ni kujituma” said my friend. He continued to tell me how people survive in these areas. He told me how some of the factory employees we saw milling out of the factories for lunch survived. How the food vendors have taken to religion so deeply because otherwise they would not be selling food to these workers who can only afford to pay for their meals at the end of the month, if and when they are themselves paid at the factory, and if they get employed in the subsequent months. He showed me some distance further out in the field with trees. “Under those trees over there”, he said. “There are more employees sleeping under them than you have seen having lunch”. Many of the employees who have no money to buy lunch move very far away during lunch break because, given their hunger pangs, the smell and sight of food only hurts their stomachs and eyes. They would rather sleep and dream about food than sit around to smell and look at it!

Corruption in Public Offices

When you have been doing things in a certain way as a corporate body, it comes as a shock to be informed that you are engaging in corruption. That is why for Mrs Gladys Shollei it is difficult for her to go down without a fight. Nobody is willing to take the fall for something that everybody else is doing. I have always wondered why a government minister would "rather die" than resign from public office. Then I began taking a keen look at public service. You see, the government, the way it is structured in Kenya...if you go to a procurement office for example you will find a secretary or two in a sort of open office; a tea girl and or a messenger and then there is the boss whose office is often closed behind him. In some cases a notice is pinned on the boss's door that says "CLEAR WITH THE SECRETARY FIRST". The consequences of not clearing with the secretary can be dire as one Rachelle Shebesh can attest to when she tried to storm into Kidero's office. On the other hand if you are another boss or are "known" well by the boss and his or her secretaries then it wont matter how many people are waiting in line...all you need is open  the boss' door, show your face and burst in.

Digital Media

Mr Itumbi,

Director digital seems like a really cool office if you ask me. I do not know your exact terms of reference but if you still are the social-political crusader of a few months ago then you could make your office the engine for driving this digital government of the Jubilee Coalition. For a start, there are 47 county governments and when fully devolved, these county governors will be sitting pretty like little heads of states of their County Houses (much like Statehouse). These counties will have many of its residents in the diaspora (i.e in other counties). The same way the President saw the need to have a digital and diaspora affairs office; these county governments need to have one to communicate more effectively.

Secondly, you can be sure the next big shock happening in Kenya (like the Westgate terror attack) will first be ‘breaking’ news on social media (twitter or facebook). Thanks to smart-phones all over the place, citizens have been able to devolve information and knowledge in more effective and efficient ways. I do not know how many Kenyans, log on to facebook or twitter but I am sure the middle class do so everyday. I watch people engage their leaders on all manner of issues and it is always refreshing to see some of these leaders respond or take action on the issues being raised. Case in point is CS Ole Lenku today taking to twitter to explain the Nyumba Kumi concept.

Thirdly, I do not know how you will do it, but you could start by engaging your online friends and foes on how to use digital media to achieve some meaningful development for country and democracy for our politics and this, going forward the next 50 years. Information on counties’ current affairs, social service provision and security should be available online, and county governors or senators should be encouraged to do this. I am always encouraged by stories that unite us such as a bright student without school fees in West Pokot getting support from someone in Laikipia and many stories that hardly get enough time in the evening news.

Fourth, the next big clash will be online. Our international friends are watching online what we do and say. The ideologies or opinions of renowned personalities like Prof Makau Mutua, Prof Peter Kagwanja, the Mutahi Ngunyi’s, the opinion polls, etc are playing a key role in influencing the country’s foreign policy. We shouldn’t brush aside the fact that a majority of Kenyans are not on Facebook or Twitter. The truth is that the masses who are not on social media do not really care as long as they have been bribed by their leaders or conditioned to believe that the other tribe is the enemy they must fight.

Real change for any nation comes when the middle class makes the decision to change things within the ruling elite. They are the only ones who can decide for themselves if they are being taken for a ride or if their leaders are on course for the good of the country and its people. So my friend, see how you can make your office more dynamic, more engaging and more pace-setting.  

The newly elected governor of Nairobi is a man under siege.Those hauling insults at Dr Kidero have not taken a keen look at where the governor is standing...or sitting for that matter. The county of Nairobi has its 'owners'. By this I mean, most of the tall glassy and not so glassy buildings in the city of Nairobi are owned, managed and occupied by the Jubilee Coalition and its power brokers. Public transport in the city (including boda boda) is owned and operated by the Jubilee and its associates. Let me list them so that we don't get lost in the text.
Banks
Insurance Companies
Hotels
SME's between Tom Mboya Street and Grogan Road
Traders in Markets and in the streets
Houses and Homes in City Estates

I do not know what stake Dr Kidero has in this city but there sure are boys who have invested their lives in this county. Some of them are people whose individual wealth alone can fund two or three states in sub Saharan Africa. If a goat has been put in charge of the affairs of lions...there can be only one way for the goat to avoid ending up on their dinner menu. And that is by the goat acting like a lion...growing a mane, sharp teeth and claws and the heck, even roaring! The goat must blend in with the lions and especially lie closest to the alpha male. I wish to appeal to my compatriots in the CORD coalition that Dr Kidero has no choice but to seem to be siding with the Jubilee Coalition. He may have gotten the largest number of votes from the Luo, Luhya and Kamba communities, but even with all these groups he only managed a paltry 70,000 more than his Jubilee competitor. You can imagine what he hopes to gain if he antagonized Jubilee coalition's 620,000 plus voters who are wealthier and more at home. I think that by choosing to dissociate temporarily from the former premier's CORD coalition and postponing his trip with other CORD governors to the US, even hosting the President at his Muthaiga home for lunch, Kidero is being very tactical and ingenious. Initially, I was deranged when he picked his chief of staff (a Mr. Wainaina), but now I fully get it. In many of the boardroom meetings...it is easy to switch to our mother tongue, especially if we really want to say what we mean and mean what we say.We should judge ourselves honestly and demand from others what we honestly believe they can deliver. For example, I work so hard here in the county of Nairobi, but I want to be able to stash and build something in my 'home' county of Siaya. We all have a tendency to think global but in the real sense act local. We know how Joe Aketch and Majiwa ended up when Mayors at City Hall. Dr Kidero might be no different if we do not give him the support he needs. And there are things he himself may not be able to disclose to us, but if we try to put ourselves in his shoes and imagine how we would have acted or reacted then we begin to see things as they really are. 

For my brothers in the CORD Coalition, Let us follow Kidero wherever he takes us...let us 'join them' for now. We can try to  'beat them' next time. In the interim, let us partner with our brothers in the Jubilee Coalition, let us learn from them how to build tall buildings, do business, grow food, bank our money and so on. Let us have something in our home counties that we are willing to fight tooth and nail for.

In the little matter of Waititu's petition against Kidero's election. It is easier for the President or the power barons to simply ask Waititu to give Evans his 4 year term in office then he can have his afterwards. Going by the few lines that CJ Willy Mutunga was asked to read to throw out CORD's petition, putting Waititu down is child's play. Better still, Waititu can be asked to take time off and do some contract jobs...one can make good money at City Hall especially with the right connections. The Jubilee brigade can easily ask Kidero to 'give' Waititu contracts that could see him not only recover from the spoils of the last election but be able to 'buy' off the few votes that he missed the last time. I am developing optimism in our leaders, especially in our now devolved systems. Let us play local. I am a fan of the former Prime Minister, but I think we are still in ligi ndogo...we can learn about the US federal system online. Let our governors do local politics an local development. We have a big opportunity right now to deal with our biggest challenges which are poverty, unemployment and ignorance. We do not want to throw into the works stress, GMO and UFO.