Somebody has upset the money god

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Somebody somewhere has upset the money god and now he has stopped dishing out goodies.

I have been trying to be very nice to him/her/it but he/she/it is proving very elusive. I know things are getting crazy because a thought recently sprung into my head that one day things would get so bad people would start planning how they could move in with their bosses to maintain their standards of living. You would have to consider whether your family is compatible with his/hers.

Anyway, it was an absurd thought that raced through my mind at about 5am while I was on my way to work. The fact that I was thinking of cutting costs and making money at that time of the morning affirmed to me that life had indeed changed.

In even more insight it made me understand why I get a migraine every time I watch politicians play around with me and my intelligence – and yours of course. The last thing Kenyans need right now as they work too hard and too long to make ends meet, is to be made a fool of.

Everyday, our leaders crack real ugly jokes and they expect us to laugh. I think they are the main contributors to the harsh economic times. They are making us poorer and laughing at us at the same time.

We both know for a fact that nobody likes poor people. The man – or woman – who steals bread from the kiosk is more likely to lose his life than the man (or woman) who steals cars, regardless of the fact that the man – or woman – who stole the bread was hungry. Do you think he wanted to sell it? If he managed to sell half of it he would get enough to buy one onion and some shredded cabbage. But he (or she) would also have to use faith to believe that there is still some unga at home to eat the cabbage with. It’s just easier to eat the bread, yeah?

I wonder if the people who stole land in the Mau complex were hungry too? Maybe he – or she – had fertilizer and seeds ready and wanted to use the massive tracts of land to plant food and feed the nation.  Perhaps the forest land upon which houses are being constructed in Spring Valley was meant for the homeless IDPs who still don’t understand why their homes were burnt and invaded.

Eating humble pie is not easy. Telling my leader that he has disappointed me, is making me poorer and turning my nose up at his – or hers – Sh2,000 hand-out is even harder. Making my voice heard, standing for what is right, voting with my head (and not pocket), and refusing to be bullied is downright impossible! But somebody needs to do it…

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