LIKE A VIRGIN...

I recently got onto radio - yes, as a presenter. The details of how I got in, fascinating as they may be, will have to be reserved for another day, another blogpost, some other time. Suffice it to say that I am up at 3.30am, out by 4.45am and on air between 6.00am and 10.00am every weekday morning. And I love it!!! First of all, I am the antithesis of all humans I know - I AM a morning person. I love everything about mornings. The stillness. The cool clear air. the quiet. the promise of a new day and new beginnings.... I think that the morning is the absolute sexiest time of the day. Yes, I did just go there. Sex and time.
Reason? Well, on Wednesday, we had a pastor on the show to come and talk about....sex. Now, just in case you do not know my show/station, I and my co-hosts have the morning drive show on Capital FM in Kenya [www.capitalfm.co.ke for livestream]. It's a contemporary urban show getting people up and out with some music, some banter and some interesting stuff. And yes, I do enjoy it. I have great co-hosts and it gives me a chance to talk [oh dear, I hear you say] plus I get paid for it. Not a bad deal.
Anyhoo, back to the pastor. God bless the dear man, he showed up and his first question was and I quote, "Do you think religious people make the best lovers?" My co-host and I did not even stop to think before unanimously saying, "No".
He countered back with a study from the University of Chicago that apparently stated that they ie religious people do make the best lovers. And it made me wonder. how does one come up with such a study? and who is your sample group?
I mean, think about it. for someone to know whether religious people make better lovers, one would need to have dated both religious and "irreligious" people. and further, how does one define a "religious person"? Are pagans, religious? Are animists religious? How about polytheists? well, if that is causing you brain freezes, then get this, our good pastor shared his view that all people have some form of belief including atheists. Hmm...right. So.... If all people are believers, does that make them religious? Do they religiously ascribe to their beliefs? If so, then what are we comparing? At this point I was lost and so I went out to do a little research of my own. Do religious people make the best lovers? Having sampled 14 people based solely on the criteria that I met them at some point and we were having a chat, this is what I found out.
Religious people make great lovers.
Religious people make lousy lovers.
Non-religious people [ie thos who do not ascribe to any particular organised religion] make great lovers.
Non-religious people make lousy lovers.
What binds all of these views together is a motley of argumants ranging from how the first encounter went, state of individual's mind, the subsequent unfolding/ending of the relationship, state of inebriation during said encounter[s], definition of lover, definition of good....
So I have come to a conclusion, the survey was a trick question.
Now, here's a survey which I think makes better sense. Okay, it would have, had it been carried out. See, according to a recent artlice, the Interdisciplinary Research Center on Family Violence and Violence Against Women in Montreal was trying to study "the impact of pornography on the sexuality of men, and how it shapes their perception of men and women." They ran into a problem. They could not find any man in Montreal in his 20s who has not been exposed to and consumed pornography.
Well, I reckon the men in Montreal are not alone. In fact, the non-porn-exposed adult urban male is becoming as rare as the spotted siberian snow leopard! Now, having said that, I am willing to be proven wrong. in fact, I beg to be proven wrong. Please do tell me there is but thirty men known to not have consumed porngraphy at some stage in their lives.
For everyone else, what does this mean? Well, I'm not sure but, once again, referring to my very unscientific research into the matter, the following points showed up;
1. Porn makes one believe that satisfying a woman requires great athletic prowess, a very long dick and lots of bright lights
2. Getting a woman to bed is as easy as saying, "Hey baby, take your clothes off."
3. lots of moaning = great sex; no moaning = lousy sex
4. size does appear to matter

So then I had another thought. Does all of this really matter? As long as you are getting what you want and are satisfied, does it really matter that she/he is religious/long/big/moaning/silent? Well, apparently, it does because, if we are to believe the good pastor, alot of relationships including marriages are breaking up in the green city under the sun in part due to the effects of pornography and the unrealistic expectations placed on being "a good lover."


THOUGHT FOR THE DAY

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
― Lao Tzu

http://gawker.com/5420211/scientist-tries-to-find-man-who-has-never-watched-porn-cant

http://www.eurekalert.org/pub_releases/2009-12/uom-ate120109.php

(c) Renee Ngamau PS. I've left the typos in for your enjoyment and delight. All opinions are mine (surprise, surprise).

"Which Is Easier To Say...

...your sins are fogiven or stand up and walk?"
It's a quote from the Bible Luke 5:23.
A dear friend asked me for my views on forgiveness and I have to say, lately, I have had alot of views on that particular subject and each time, I have thought something different but, on contemplation, have come to the same conclusion.
You can't get up and move on until you forgive and let go.
Yes, that's pretty much it.
We all know the adages, "anger hurts you more than it hurts the other person" , "...to forgive is divine" but no one really explains how to forgive when the hurt is still present or the consequences are ongoing.
If you are hoping I will, you are out of luck. I don't know. All I can tell you is my personal experience.
Forgiveness to me is accepting that things have gone the way they have, that what has been done, has in fact been done and that it as done by the doer.
Forgiveness is accepting that he/she/they did what they did and that that is what happened.
Forgiveness is acknowledging and allowing myself to fully feel the pain, the hurt, the disappointment, the sadness, the anger that is the aftermath of the event.
Forgiveness is knowing that even this is an opportunity to learn, to grow, to be a better person.
Forgiveness is choosing to use this to learn, to grow and to be a better person.
Forgiveness is owning up to the fact that it happened to me, that I was present and that I did what I did and not what I now think I shoulda, coulda, woulda done. That at the time, whatever I did was the best I knew how.
Forgiveness is not judging myself harshly. It is loving myself enough to accept that I am human enough to feel pain, to blame another, to be angry for as long as it serves me. And I am also divine enough to realise that holding on to the past prevents me from ever getting away from the events that happened. That I am both the tetherer and the tethered one for as long as I hold on.

And that when I let go, I am free to stand up and walk.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
Friend, your sins are forgiven.

(c) Renee Ngamau

CHOCOLATE ELCAIRS AKA ALPHA MALES...

If you have ever had a chocolate eclair sweet, you will have had the the wonderful experience of having chewed through a tough toffee exterior for what seems like minutes on end before a squirt of warm milk chocolate begins to leak from its centre and floods your mouth with the cool, delightful reward for all your efforts.
I have a hypothesis that Alpha Males are like chocolate eclairs. Tough toffee types on the outside, with soft, cool, squishy gooey bits on the inside.
I met two of them (Alphas, that is) in two seperate meetings today. Both friends, one in his twenties, the other in his forties. Both very accomplished in their field and both very well insulated by their own self erected walls. And I set out to test my hypothesis.
Mr. 20-something is tall, slim, very well toned and very soft spoken with dreamy eyes. Mr. 40-something is shorter, slightly more stocky with a Barry White voice and a killer smile. Happily, I happen to be a friend and therefore not very threatening to, well, to the 40 year old. The 20 year old is still finding himself so a strong Boo!! will scare him off. BOO!!! There. We're rid of him so we can talk about him now.
Anyway, back to the point. Here's what I noticed. Both are driven ultimately by the desire to simultaneously protect and for his inner boy to be loved. Despite the tough exterior, both would love nothing more than for someone to take the time to "chew them out" and find that soft interior, although if you do ask, both would say no and probably run. [Evasive maneouvres - very common with these types... They'd rather run than risk being seen for the softies they really]
And it made me think about the greatest men and women in this world. Are the world's greatest leaders just men and women who wanted so badly to protect and love the child within them, that they were willing to take on the world and demand that love?
Could it be that Gandhi just wanted to have a home to go to?
That Martin Luther King Jr.was just tired of not being allowed to sit at the front of the bus?
That Hitler just needed a cuddle?
That Joan of Arc just wanted someone to be proud of her for a change?
Maybe the tougher the exterior, the greater the desire to be known, to be loved, to be cared for.
Or maybe they are just tough leathery ol' so-and-so's.
Somehow, I suspect the former.
Give a mean ol' codger a hug. He'll probably grumble and wiggle out of it, but if you watch him out of the corner of your eye, you'll see the little child in him say, "Thank you."

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
Underneath the package, all blood flows red.
(c) Renee Ngamau

LOVE YOU TO DEATH

"Just gonna stand here and watch me cry..." It's Eminem and Rihanna on my radio station. I've finally listened to the words and as usual, Eminem's outdone himself with the lyrics.

Funny I should be hearing the words now. Today of all days. I just heard the news. A friend's widowed mum has just been diagnosed HIV+. One last parting gift from her departed husband.


(c) Renee Ngamau

IT IS YOUR LIFE, REALLY...

Yes, it is me. I know it's been a long time and I apologise. the best laid plans of men and mice, and all that jazz.
I had the most wonderful evening. I was invited by Alvin Gachie to speak to the KUZA club of the Kenya Law Students Society - a club that promotes mentorship between law students and lawyers.
A group of about 50-60 students, mainly third year students came along and very graciously gave me two and a half hours of audience and I say gracious because they have 2 weeks to their end of semester exams and I can remember how precious time would become around exam time (especially as I had not been studying before...ahem, ahem).
Part of the topic was autobiographical, who I am, how I got here etc etc. I thought I had it figured out until I started talking and I realised something, I have been blessed with a really amazing, abundant life. Yes, I have worked hard to get here and it is a brilliant place to be.
Here's the other thing I got tonight though, is that everyone in that room has everything they need to make their life as amazing, as successful, as satisfying as they wish - if they choose.
Inspired by all the people who came out tonight, challenged by those who dared me to write more and especially by George M, a young man of extraordinary talent - here is my first On Yet Another Ordinary Day blog in over two years.
You inspire me.
I honour you.
Namaste

(c) Renee Ngamau

THE PRACTICAL POWER OF PEACE

You ever met a person who is so gentle, so warm, that he or she is almost familiar to you? That was my first experience of my friend John. I met him on my very first trip to the States. He is a fine orator and had just successfully battled cancer and gotten the “all clear”. He had then dedicated his life to talking about his experience, and giving others hope. For six years since he overcame cancer, he has been doing just that, all over the US. You can therefore imagine my surprise when I read a curious note on his Facebook page saying something like “three treatments down, fifty one to go” or some crazy number like that. I couldn’t even reply to the post, I called straight away. I don’t even think I said ‘hello’. “What’s this about ‘treatments’, then?” He told me the news and what procedures he was scheduled to undertake. In typical, warrior-babe mode, I started talking about him fortifying himself for the battle ahead. But he had such a different take on it. Rather than think of it as a battle, he is working on accepting that the cancer is back, loving himself and accepting that his body is feeding the cancer, not fighting the cancer but ‘allowing’, acknowledging and even, being relaxed about it to such levels that the cancer, would be free to leave him. His five pronged approach is so simple, yet so complete; including prayer, eating right, thinking right, faith and getting the right treatment. I was gobsmacked. I know this guy well. He was in the US armed forces. I could understand him waging war against the cancer. I expected us to talk strategy, approach, combat plans, tactics. I could not get my head round him being at peace with it. When I put the phone down, I knew I had just spoken with a master, and had received a valuable lesson. I was just so dazed, I just had to allow this one to sink. It’s taken me four days since we spoke to begin to truly understand what he is saying, and even now, I’ve gotta say, John, I’m still shaking my head in wonder. Physiologically, it makes complete sense. When we are in ‘fight’ mode, our body tenses up, our adrenaline levels surge and everything within us shuts down to redirect as much energy and resources towards the battle. Likewise, that which we are battling fortifies itself to ensure it is not annihilated. Psychologically it means that the focus is not on the cancer, how big it is getting, what the doctors are saying etc. It is on the healing and so the brain can direct resources within the bodyto be deployed to where they are needed for healing rather than for battle. Yet, not to fight seems insane, frankly it almost seems to be a cop-out. Or is it? A relatively young yogi, Paramahamsa Nithyananda [please forgive the spelling], tells a story of a time he was meditating in the woods. He had his eyes open but was not ‘running any thoughts’ through his head – you know the type of meaningless chatter that often rages while we go about life. He was in complete silence within and without, totally enjoying his surroundings. He noticed a large snake lying rather close to him but so deep was he in his meditation that for a while, he did not pay any attention to it. For that while, neither did the snake pay him any attention. By and by, he came out of his meditation and thought to himself, “That’s a snake, it could harm me.” He recounts how, in that moment, the snake roused itself and he had the distinct impression that the snake had realised, “That’s a man, 'it' could harm me.” He calmed down and thought to get up and step away from the snake slowly – not an altogether unwise thing to do. [Eh, I confess that this is the bit in the script where I’d be running for dear life, or looking around for a big stick so kudos to you, Para.] Slowly, the snake uncoiled itself and slithered away from him a little bit. In that moment, he had a great insight. For as long as he did not consider the snake to be a danger to him, the snake did not consider him to be a danger to him. The moment the thought came to his mind ‘Snake – danger’, the thought came to the snake, ‘Man – danger’. He uses this story to illustrate the principle of ‘ahimsa’ - non-violence. From what I understand, it works like this. If you project non violence, non threat and peace, you will invite... exactly non-violence, peace in your life. John, I think I get it. The greatest strategy you could ‘deploy’ ‘against’ the cancer, is to project non-violence towards it, to acknowledge it and then ‘step away’ from it. For then, in the absence of battle, the cancer has nothing to fight within you. It needs to go find a different war ground in another body. WOW!!! This has got me thinking about Gandhi and his use of that principle to end the colonialism in his country or Martin Luther King Junior to end segregation in the US. Now I am by no means an expert on Indian or American history but if I apply the same principle – non violent protests, the downing of tools, the peaceful demonstrations – the reason they were so effective was that the ‘enemy’ could not justify the use of force against a people who retaliated with peace. It isn’t that the proponents of peaceful dissent took on a laissez faire, everything goes, attitude. They just figured out really early that violence could only beget violence. The state or the colonisers would have won any armed resistance – they were much more powerful and had more sophisticated weapons. What they could not battle was peace. It isn’t that other things did not contribute towards the downfall of these oppressive regimes. It is that the practice of peace in dissent was the glue that brought all the other contributing factors together and made it so that no other outcome was possible but that which was achieved – freedom, emancipation. So then I think about all the things I battle within and without. How they appear to persist, even grow in my presence. How weary I am of that battle. Well, maybe I’m the contributor to their growth. Mother Theresa once said that she would never participate in an anti-war protest, but a peace protest? “Any day.” I always wondered what the distinction was. I’m beginning to understand now that the distinction is focus. Whatever I put my mind to, reflects back onto me. Just like the yogi and the snake, it does not mean that for a while the thing will not be there. It just will not harm me. And being the eternal dreamer, one day maybe I will so inculcate that principle that I will be able to honestly say, “No weapon formed against me can prosper”. I can lie like the proverbial lamb, next to the lion, heck, be in a den of lions and not a hair on my head shall be harmed. For no weapon, no enemy can be effective against peace. John, Namaste. For you have taught me a new one. Ahimsa – the principle of peace. (c) Renee Ngamau

LEGACY

“Legacy” [noun] meaning that which is handed down or remains from a previous generation. I’m going to write two articles today; the first, below, being a ‘response’ to the article in the above link and aimed primarily at my Kenyan brothers and sisters. It will not make for comfortable reading so, if you do choose to continue, take a deep breath and scroll on. The second is posted separately and is on the idea of ‘Ahimsa’. Now, for those of you who did not study in the public universities in Kenya, the conditions described in the above article may seem atrocious, even exaggerated. They are not. In fact, before I did my masters’ degree, they were the only experience of university we had. Not only that, those conditions were almost irrelevant to us. Just the fact that we had made it to ‘campus’ was all that mattered. To pursue a professional course was the icing on the cake, no matter how the course was dispensed. I studied law at the University of Nairobi’s Parklands campus, at the time, the only university in Kenya where you could study law. Let me tell you a little about life on campus. We had alcoholic lecturers – men who could not begin the day without having had a drink; we had sexual predators openly propositioning female students while teaching; we had potholes in the corridors; filthy bathrooms and toilets on co-ed halls of residence where the female students sometimes went in twos, threes or more to avoid harassment from male students. Yet we were the elite. Just under 400 students chosen out of literally tens of thousands of applicants, for our academic excellence. We were the few who had made the grade – passing 13-14 two-hour examination papers sat in just 6 weeks and averaging a B grade, where the highest possible grade A had not been attained and where the highest grade obtained in the land had been an A-. We were the crème de la crème. There was no parallel program [a system originally designed for ‘mature students’, for students who could afford to pay higher fees but did not necessarily have the grades necessary to join the course, etc]. Together with the few students who would join us from India, Australia, Canada and the UK, possibly another 200 or so, we were all the new lawyers that Kenya would get in the year we would be sworn in. Yet, those are the conditions in which we studied. Oh sure, we worked hard and played hard. We had full schedules by day and lots of reading at night and campus life was fun but if it was a bed of roses, someone had clearly forgotten to remove the thorns. During my holidays, I had the extraordinary privilege of working at a top law firm and I remember noticing that they had a 10th edition of Paget’s Law of Banking, a 1989 edition, a subject in which I had an interest. I perused it in my spare time and loved what I read. In my fourth year, I signed up for the banking law option only to find out that the edition that was to form the basis of our lessons was the 4th edition. An edition so long out of print that it was near impossible to purchase, not to mention very costly. Meanwhile, at the university library, the copies of the 4th edition, circa 1945 were in such limited supply, they resided in a special section of the library called ‘the reserve’ and were only available for overnight lending. Such was our desperation to get hold of a copy that students often formed ‘cartels’; chains in which we would pass the book from one student to the other ensuring that it remained within ‘reach’. If you weren’t in the cartel, hey! Tough luck. In my [rather naive] excitement, I said to the banking law lecturer, “There’s a tenth edition out and I think we should be using that version.” His response, “You can use any version you wish, but if you want to pass the banking law exam, you had better study the 4th edition.” And so in the early 1990s, my banking law was based on World War 2 era banking systems and practices. Is it a wonder then that upon graduation, we were severely hampered when competing against colleagues from other jurisdictions? I practiced in Kenya in private practice and then in house for the subsidiary of a French MNC before moving to the UK. When I got to the UK, I was in for a massive shock. Even though I had studied law in a common law country and graduated with respectable grades and an honours degree, my law degree was not transferable into the UK legal system. A Nigerian law degree was, a Ghanaian law degree was, even a Zimbabwe law degree, and a South African degree was, non common law jurisdiction degrees, but not a Kenyan one. Although the Kenyan system could accept a UK law degree, subject to a few conversion exams, mainly family and succession law, legal accounting and ethics; the converse could not happen. Effectively it meant that if you could not get a judge of the High Court of Kenya to countersign that you had attained a certain level of practice that ‘made up’ for your ‘substandard’ law degree, you had to begin studying law again as though you had not done any law at all. Even contract law and torts, the most basic, would have to be restudied. Not even a UK masters’ degree in banking and financial law, was helpful. Suddenly I understood why a classmate, who had obtained a first class degree at the University of Nairobi and had a Masters from Oxford University, was working in a windowless cubicle pushing paper for an insurance company. Why another colleague was a paralegal and a third was redoing her law degree. Why a fourth, though a lecturer at Oxford, would still have to redo her law degree in order to practice in the UK. I wrote to the then secretary of the Law Society of Kenya, the LSK, a former high school mate, and asked that the LSK formally approach the Law Society in the UK and immediately rectify what I saw as a gross anomaly in the reciprocal system. Nothing. At the time, the LSK was either unwilling, unable or not knowledgeable enough about the implication of the non-reciprocity on the competitiveness of Kenyan lawyers on the world market or the impact of having to demand reciprocity on the calibre of education to which law students in Kenya would be exposed. Now I do not say this by way of complaint or condemnation. I understood. This was not something ‘relevant’ or ‘sexy’. It did not affect the daily income of the majority of lawyers; in fact it was arguably the preserve of a few "elite" lawyers. It is the natural reaction based on our view of ourselves as Kenyans and our place in the world. Meanwhile, I found out what exams I would have to take in order to be accepted as a solicitor in the UK and got on with the business of life. Now the story I am telling you about is a historical event, from five/six years ago. I do not know the current position, but I will wager you that not much has changed in the intervening period. I have since heard of the experiences of local Kenyan firms as they vie for international business. Even the 'elite' Kenyan firms IF successful, are rarely appointed lead counsel in negotiations. Invariably, they are subordinated to UK, US or other firms. The lawyers in Kenya cry discrimination, even racism when they unsuccessfully vie for contracts with work with multinational corporations; foreign aid bodies, intergovernmental organisations. The Kenyan lawyer will argue that she is just as good, just as qualified as the UK lawyer and in many cases, more experienced as she has appeared before the High Court of Appeal in Kenya years before her UK contemporary. Well, the paperwork begs to differ. And who in their right mind will entrust millions of dollars worth of contracts to an unknown, provincial lawyer, qualified and recognised only in some corner of Eastern Africa under a system that even the ‘mother jurisdiction’ does not acknowledge? And if you think that only foreign bodies entrust such work to foreign trained/based lawyers, think again. The Kenyan Government, Kenyan public bodies, parastatals etc will often hire UK based law firms to negotiate and conclude contracts for them, rather than their own. Why? Even they know the quality of the training given to local lawyers. By the way, this is not a gripe. I am hoping that by telling you my story, you will appreciate the full impact of the mediocrity we accept, the narrow-minded provincial focus that we dwell on. The effect not just nationally, but internationally. Of course I am telling you only about the field of law, but that is because it is the field in which I am qualified and have experience. I am sure that the architects, engineers, doctors, accountants etc have their own stories to tell. From qualified accountants having to re-sit accounting exams, qualified medical doctors with years of experience being admitted only as residents; the story is replicated in one form or other across the professional board. But what is the upshot of this tale? Twofold. One, if we are to change anything, we need to change our own view about what we are. By “what”, I mean, a radical redefinition of who we are, our place in society, our place in the country, our place in the world. A redefinition of our responsibility, our duty, our contribution, our footprint in the world. In Kenya, somehow we manage to convince ourselves that we are a very important nation, “internationally recognised” for our unique special qualities, qualities we find ourselves at odds to define but are sure others recognise immediately they hear the word, “Kenya”. [Island of peace in an ocean of turmoil, I think Moi was fond of calling Kenya]. Paradoxically, we then subscribe to a view that because we are so important, the ‘Western nations’ will treat us and ours' specially and, in relation to violence, will not let us come to civil war. Already, you can see the flaw in our story. We expect an external people not only to define us and recognise our positive qualities, but also to save us from ourselves, yet we do not ask, why? What’s in it for them? How do we pay back for this ‘salvation’? Even in the major religions, the ‘exchange’ for salvation, whoever your personally preferred saviour, is a life of wholehearted dedication to Him [usually a ‘Him’]. In other words if in religion, salvation is in exchange for your life, what are we expected to ‘pay’ these ‘saviours’ who will ensure that we only kill a few of ourselves? Why do we expect special dispensation despite our own mediocrity, on account only of our geographical origin and, lately, because some guy fathered a child who he never brought up, and who, with no contribution from his father, became the president of an important nation? I’m not being a ‘hater’. I’m just saying... NEWSFLASH. Ain’t nobody from some place out there gonna come and rescue us from ourselves. We have to do it. We can do it. The only question is one of will. The will to do it. For as long as we do not recognise the power within us; the power to guide our own destiny, to claim and hold our place in the body that is this world, we will continue to accept substandard services, substandard education, substandard goods in exchange for hard earned money. We will allow ourselves to be increasingly sidelined in the world. We will ignore the impact of our least-common denominator, laissez-faire, ostrich attitude, and reap generously of the fruit of our inaction. Mind you, I don't expect anyone 'out there' to recognise us and our professionals on equal footing, just because we say they should. Kizuri chajiuzi, kibaya chajitembeza. Enough said. Two. We expect that if we complain for long enough, but take no action, that somehow, the people we are complaining about will get it into their heads to ‘do the right thing’ and give us what we want, locally and internationally. In fact, on the local scene, we even praise our 'illustrious old foggies aka leaders' to their faces, and then complain when they are gone, least we seem impolite. It is the 'done' thing, no matter how disgraceful, dishonest or immoral they are. Let me ask you something. Why are the old foggies always harping on about the youth and yet not giving them a ‘chance’? I’d argue that it is because they recognise the power and potency that is contained within the human psyche in the period between 15 – 45 years of age. Of that, the 18 to 45 year olds have the resources, intellectual, energetic, health and the social connections to make the calls, take the actions that bring about changes. This is the period when we believe we can change the world, and have the energy to do so. And therein lies the reason why the ‘chance’ is and will never be given. If we take over, we create a new world. A world designed for the future and not for the past. The old foggies aren’t foolish. They recognise the radical changes that they brought about when they were young and see clearly that if they allow the youth to take over, equally radical changes can be expected. Changes that would close the door to opportunistic looting. Changes that would allow history books to be opened and the truth about their actions in colonial times to be exposed. Changes that will challenge the acquisition of land by unlawful, unjust or immoral means and the demand for a redress of the land issue. Changes that will require that our land is not a dumping site for toxic waste, a testing ground for new drugs. Changes that will require that everyone pay taxes, that the taxes are accounted for and that the services which people pay for, are provided. Changes that will ensure that the law courts are exactly that – law courts, not burial grounds for justice, where cases long forgotten gather dust while accused persons not out on bail linger for years in remand. Changes that will recognise all Kenyans as Kenyans despite ethnic background; where Somalis are not viewed as refugees/shiftas/terrorists/foreigners simply by virtue of ethnicity; where Turkana are not a forgotten people in some little know part of the country; where women in Tana district can fetch water without the perpetual risk of crocodiles or even worse, poisoning due to agricultural chemical run-off from further upstream – residue from the produce of export horticultural foods and flowers while people in Ukambani starve for lack of food. Do you think that this is in their interest? Do you not think them very clever in fact, to hold onto power until death do them part, for if they do not, their deeds in the dark will be exposed to light and their nefarious actions undone. Why would they do what amounts to suicide? Why would they drop the smokescreen and let us see and experience in truth, that which they recognise us to have? The power to chart our course. NEWS FLASH. Ain’t nobody gonna hand the reins to us. They don’t hold the reins. We do! And every election, we give them back to the old foggies under the guise of ‘wise leadership’ and ‘respecting our elders’. We are told and believe that “women will never vote in other women” and some female old foggies are suitably paraded insulting the few brave visionaries we have as examples. Yet we do not question, ‘What is this person defending?’ We accept that the “youth are not ready for leadership. They are too... [kamilisha] immature/young/materialistic/foolish/naive...” and we fall for it hook, line and sinker without recognising the age, status and position of the speaker. We hear it said, and then repeat amongst ourselves, ‘The Luo/Luhya/Kikuyu/Kalenjin/Pokomo/Somali will never vote for a Kikuyu/Luo/Luyha/Turkana/Somali...’ even though we have in the past. Even though many of us have intermarried, have grown up with, and count amongst our closest childhood friends people from the very ethnic group we are supposed to hate. Dada na Ndugu, amkeni!!! We have been hoodwinked. We have been bamboozled. We’ve been fed the Rohypnol for ages. We have got to wake up. Our failure is not in inaction. Our failure is in not recognising our power. The power we already have. The power to control our destiny so that when graduates from the universities and colleges vie for international jobs, we recognise ourselves as capable and can market ourselves as professional. So that we carry ourselves as competent and we do not accept whether individually or institutionally, to be recognised as less. So that we no longer 'tarmac' for years for lack of jobs or have to undersell ourselves, vying for positions of receptionist even though we hold MBAs. So that we no longer resort to fighting in Somalia, kidnapping children for ransom, robbing others at gunpoint etc. for a living. So that we do not lose hundreds, thousands of young men and women to drugs, illicit brews, hit squad killings, gangs. So where do we begin? Well, we already have. We just have not recognised it. The few young MPs who made it through are the harbingers. The last election was not the war. It was a skirmish. With more candidates standing, with more of us voting, we, you and I, Yaani wewe unayesoma hii, na mimi niandikaye, we can, in one election, turn this country around in such a way that we close the door on the foggies forever. Knowing and accepting that one day, when we are blessed to be foggies, we shall have the grace to get up off those seats and allow our children and grandchildren, to do the very same. This is our time to act. This is our chance to be the saviours we are looking for. I often tell the story of how I once went to a talk by Waagari Maathai in the time when Moi was on her case like white on rice. She gave a talk about planting trees and about stopping the building of the Times tower, and about Freedom Corner. When it was question time, I put up my hand and asked her, knowing she had kids around my age and like my mum, was a single mum, “Why do you do this?” Her answer, “Because I never want my children to ask me, ‘Mami, where were you, what were you doing, when you guys were ruining our country’!” I sat down completely dumbfounded, then I turned to my own mum and asked her, “Mami, what are you doing while you guys ruin Kenya.” Her reply, “I’m brought you here so you can meet Waagari and know, you can make a difference.” Now, all the calls to action in the world will not make a difference. It is action that will. We often complain that there is no one to vote for, that we do not have choices. Well, look again. In Westlands alone, I hear that Pastor Gowi Odera, formerly of Nairobi Baptist and Nairobi Chapel, has decided to stand as has Jimmy Gathu. [No, they have not appointed me campaign manager.] I am sure that you may or will soon hear of other young men and women of integrity who are standing in other constituencies. They have answered the call to stand up. It’s up to you and me to make sure they go in. And once in, that they continue to hear from us so they never forget that whatever little they do, however frustratingly small, every little thing turns the country that is Kenya around, shapes the destinies of 40 million people inside and outside the country and ultimately, influences the world we live in. After all, is this not our legacy? (c) Renee Ngamau

I HONOUR YOU

The story is told of a series of correspondences between Mahatma Gandhi and Albert Einstein. Albert Einstein watched a movie in the days of silent moving pictures in which, the news reel caption featured Gandhi. Now for those of you not old enough to remember news reel, it was a little caption of current news that would be shown before the main feature. In the news reel, Gandhi was shown holding his hands together, moving his lips as if in words and then bowing to the people around him, who then did the same in return. Intrigued, Einstein wrote to him and asked, 'What is it you say when you bring your hands together and bow?' The reply came, 'Namaste.' So Einstein wrote again, 'What does that mean?' Gandhi answered, 'I honour God within you.' And so today, I honour you. I honour you for your life; I honour you for the lessons you have learned and are yet to learn; I honour you for the "errors" and for the "wrong" that you regret; I honour you for the difficulties and challenges that you are facing; I honour you for the dark moments of silent despair that you meet with only a sliver of hope that things will get better if you just hold on; I honour you for the triumphs that you experience; I honour you for the 'failure' you admit. I honour you for the great things you do, unknowing, unconsciously; I honour you for the 'routine things' that you do. I honour you for those moments that you lift your head up as you walk in the rain and notice the daffodils in bloom. I honour you for staying in that painful relationship; I honour you for leaving. I honour you for biting your tongue when you SO wanted to say F... U! I honour you for saying it. I honour you for a spirit that seeks truth; I honour you for defending your truth. I honour you for the breath that you take for in each breath, there is life and the promise of another Now. I honour you for facing your adversities; I honour you for quitting. I honour you for doing what you believe is right even when it seems like the foolish thing to do. I honour you for following your heart even when your head screams NO!! I honour you for your health; I honour you for your wealth; I honour you for your love; I honour you for your desire, for your passion, for your perseverance. I honour you, my dear, dear friend. I honour God within you. Namaste. (c) Renee Ngamau