Monday, December 05, 2016

I am my own king

If you believe that Jesus who was the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God, the Prince of Peace, the Son of Man, Emmanuel, the One Who Died for Our Sins, the one whose blood covers us, the one who saved us...I'm getting distracted...if you believe that Jesus Christ is on your side in your political quarrel, stop reading now. If you believe that Jesus Christ has directed you to enter elective politics, please stop reading now. If you are a man of the cloth and believe that Jesus Christ is on your political side and that He has called you to serve Him in political office, please take whatever device you're using to read these blasphemous words to the senior-most man of the cloth you can find and ask him or her to cleanse it and to sanctify it in the name of Jesus Christ.

The First Book of Samuel, at chapter 8, describes how the children of Israel, despondent at how Samuel's sons had disgraced their offices, went to Samuel and begged him to give them a king to judge them as the other nations were judged. Samuel prayed to God who told him that the children of Israel hadn't rejected Samuel but had rejected God Himself. God sent Samuel to warn the people about what a king would be like,
11 And he said, This will be the manner of the king that shall reign over you: He will take your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his chariots, and to be his horsemen; and some shall run before his chariots. 12 And he will appoint him captains over thousands, and captains over fifties; and will set them to ear his ground, and to reap his harvest, and to make his instruments of war, and instruments of his chariots. 13 And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers. 14 And he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and your oliveyards, even the best of them, and give them to his servants. 15 And he will take the tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and give to his officers, and to his servants. 16 And he will take your menservants, and your maidservants, and your goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work. 17 He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye shall be his servants. 18 And ye shall cry out in that day because of your king which ye shall have chosen you; and the Lord will not hear you in that day.
I have seen the most remarkable post about a bishop of the church who wishes to be elected as Kiambu's second governor. The substance of the utterance attributed to the bishop isn't important; it is the usual anti-Raila screed that finds purchase among the political leadership of Kiambu. What I find important is the arrogance of a class that we were (at least those of us who are confessing Christians were) warned about by God Himself purporting to warn us about other kings!

This Kiambu bishop will not be the first man of the cloth to want to lord it over us; Moses Akaranga in Vihiga county has beaten him to the punch as has Mutava Musyimi who represents Mbeere South in the National Assembly. Mr Akaranga has already disgraced himself with his inability to oversee a halfway honest government; Mr Musyimi will forever be remembered for his robust defence of Charity Ngilu, when she was water minister, of accusations that she was corrupt. But it is the arrogance of this bishop to purport to know who among the politicians is to be trusted that takes the biscuit.

I have tried to remind my readers that political action is not a passive activity. If you wish to improve the quality of public services, it is immaterial whether or not you trust your elected representatives; what is material is whether you treat them like the kings they believe themselves to be. So far in our experiment in self-governance, we have treated our Black and coloured elected representatives like kings, fawning and scraping at their feet like servile serfs, grateful for whatever scraps of public service they deign to give us. They exist to be served; we exist to vote and genuflect every time one of them breaks wind.

Our political education will remain incomplete so long as we see elected representatives, especially the ones who cover themselves in the cloth of faith-leaders, as more knowledgeable of our rights, our needs and our desires than we ever could be. As the governed, we have always been told by the ones we elected what we needed whether we needed it or not. It is how we ended up with an airline that we can't run or afford; a cement factory that we can't run or afford; sugar factories that we can't run or afford; publicly-funded banks that we can't run or afford; large dams of doubtful economic or industrial value; and so on and so forth. We have now been told that we need nuclear energy and a standard-gauge railway.  It is our political miseducation that holds us hostage to outdated notions of fealty to tribal and religious kingpins.

Bob Marley sings, "None but ourselves can free our minds" and our mental liberation begins with questioning the reason for the existence of our modern-day kings. I don't mean that shit about servant-leadership that flowered briefly in 2012 and got snuffed out in inane arguments about madimoni. It is about the sovereignty of the people, individually and collectively, to decide their fate without fear or favour. I will be damned if the camouflage offered by the church that was built by the blood of Jesus will enshroud my mind and blind me to the awful truth: God doesn't want me to have a king for I am my own king.

Mr Njoroge's three-box tango

"Monetary policy is the macroeconomic policy laid down by the central bank. It involves management of money supply and interest rate and is the demand side economic policy used by the government of a country to achieve macroeconomic objectives like inflation, consumption, growth and liquidity."
Honestly, I have no idea what all that means. What I do know is that it is part of the mandate of the Central Bank of Kenya as set out in section 4 of the Central bank of Kenya Act, chapter 491 of the laws of Kenya. But to be honest, do you really care what "monetary policy" really means? Do you care how many billions or trillions of shillings are in circulation in the market at any one time? Your answer is most probably, "No" and so you don't understand why Patrick Njoroge, the governor of the Central Bank is being hounded left, right and centre by unseen forces (also known as "cartels" in the political patois of the year).

Mr Njoroge is in these forces' crosshairs for taking the role of the Central Bank to "foster the liquidity, solvency and proper functioning of a stable market-based financial system" set out in sections 4(2) and 38 of the Central Bank of Kenya Act seriously. These sections give the Central Bank the power to take over the management of commercial banks if those banks become a threat to the liquidity, solvency or proper functioning of the financial system. But some commercial banks are sacred cows, protected from on political high and these are the forces that are believed to be striking back at Mr Njoroge.

I have another theory: Mr Njoroge, in the absence of a fully constituted board of directors, hasn't necessarily been a bull in a china shop as much as a stick-in-the-mud stickler for statutory and regulatory procedure in the awarding of tenders and the like. One of my not-so-obvious obsessive compulsions is the need, whenever I deal in currency, to keep brand new bills in my billfold and if you're like me, you will have noticed that since Mr Njoroge was appointed as governor, there are fewer and fewer brand new bills in circulations. In fact it was only last month that new bills were injected into the financial system and I can't help but wonder if it was because Mr Njoroge and his fidelity to statutory and regulatory provisions wouldn't grant a tender for the printing of new currency.

Kenya's currency can only be issued with the authority of the Central Bank; it is not up to De La Rue, the manufacturers of our currency, who can determine when and in what quantities currency shall be printed. That is the exclusive preserve of the Central Bank (section 22 of the Central Bank of Kenya Act), which not the President, the Cabinet Secretary for the National Treasury or parliamentarians can interfere in if the governor turns out to be a man with a backbone made of sufficiently stiffer material than the usual minestrone. Mr Njoroge has proven to be just such a governor and my phobias may have received a jolt from his refusal to kow-tow to the so-called whims and demands of the "cartels".

For ten years, the question of awarding De La Rue a new contract to print currency has been hanging fire. This new contract has been challenged and even became the subject of a Parliamentary Accounts Committee inquiry in which the then Finance Minister and former governor were adversely mentioned. It is now Mr Njoroge's turn in the hot seat. While the reason for his discomfiture might publicly be the closure of three banks, I think that it is the currency-printing contract that has invited faceless cartels to target him with accusations of abuse of office and similar things.

De La Rue's facilities in Ruaraka are classified as a protected area and all that the phrase entails including classification of all information relating to the facilities such as the currency-printing contract. This invites the traditional Kenyan rent-seeking in anything "security-related" which the currency contract will be made to fall under. This also means restricted tendering or single-sourcing of contractors. Mr Njoroge is likely the stumbling block when it comes to this contract. The closed banks are just the smokescreen; the cartels' true bugbear is the currency contract. As is the case with every dodgy deal since Goldenberg, sooner or later, the information will leak and the cartels' fronts will no longer be secret. Whether Mr Njoroge survives will be up to him and his surefootedness. He should bear this adage in mind, "To dance with the devil, one must know the steps."

They won't give up their gold-standard

State officers include the President, Deputy President, Governor, Deputy Governor, Cabinet Secretary, Principal Secretary, Attorney-General, Director of Public Prosecutions, members of constitutional commissions and holders of independent offices, parliamentarians, members of county assemblies, and judges and magistrates. Their status affords them many privileges including insurance policies designed to cover almost all medical emergencies or care. 
When faced with medial emergencies, State officers do not have to worry about queuing in sub-standard public health facilities for care; almost all of them have the option of being treated in private health facilities in any part of the world. Just recently, the Governor of Bomet was struck in the face by a teargas canister and was flown to South Africa for "emergency treatment" at a private health facility. In the same week, the parents of conjoined twins witnessed the medical skills of surgeons at the Kenyatta National Hospital when the twins underwent surgery to separate them. By all accounts the children are recuperating well and are expected to make a full recovery from their surgery. Though it hasn't been reported as such, I believe the parents of the twins are not State officers nor do they enjoy the same kind of health security that the Governor of Bomet does.

There is a cohort of vocal Kenyans who are demanding that State officers should be compelled to accept medical care from the health system they are responsible for. They argue that Kenya has world class surgeons who have demonstrated their surgical skills numerous times and that it isn't necessary for State officers to seek medical care outside Kenya. As an example, they argue that the Governor of Bomet should have sought the more affordable emergency treatment at Kenyatta National Hospital rather than further endangering his life in a five-hour aeroplane journey to an unknown and untested South African health facility. I agree with this cohort. But I am also a pragmatist; no State officer is going to accept the demand.

State officers are not like you or I. They are special. Their needs are special. Anything that affects them also affects the functioning of the State itself. Nothing affects them as much as their fragile health for which the public facilities are ill-equipped to handle. The moment they ascended to their seats of power and influence, they underwent a physiological metamorphosis that heightened their medical needs to critical proportions. They cannot live among us anymore; their medical constitutions have become too weak to cope with dust, noise, and impure and uncertain water supplies. Placing their medical needs in the hands of health workers who come into contact with the rest of us simply endangers their lives and, by extension, the stability of the State. If a Kenyan surgeon attempted the same kind of complicated surgery that separated those cute conjoined twins, it would end in catastrophic failure leading to the fall of the Government and the utter destruction of the State as we know it.

For the sake of political and national stability, State officers must continue to access iffy healthcare in foreign lands at the hands of unknown medical personnel. It is a security measure too. These foreigners, the more foreign the better, are unlikely to have any tribal affiliations with the enemies of the people (i.e. the enemies of the State). Therefore, State officers need those gold-standard medical insurance policies that can be relied on to find doctors and hospitals to take care of band-aids in faraway lands. No, the law will not be changed if the law is likely to lead to anarchy and what could be more anarchic than the Governor of Bomet, who spent almost a billion shillings on healthcare in 2014/2015, being asked to have his little boo-boo taken care of by a clinician in a health facility that likely has no running water while it could be dealt with by a surgeon in South Africa while the Governor stares at the Table Mountains?

Re-examine public health assumptions

"The functions and powers of the county are...county health services, including, in particular county health facilities and pharmacies...promotion of primary health care..." Part 2 of the Fourth Schedule, Constitution of Kenya
Sections 23 and 28 of Part 1 of the Fourth Schedule list the functions and powers of the national government in relation to health as "national referral health facilities" and "health policy". 

So far as I can tell, the health sector is not mentioned anywhere else in the Constitution of Kenya, except tangentially in reference to the right to life (Art. 26), the prohibition of discrimination (Art. 27), environmental rights (Art. 42), economic and social rights (Art. 43), consumer rights (Art. 46), the rights of children (Art. 53), affirmative action for minorities and marginalised groups (Art. 56), the regulation of land use or property (Art. 66), a conflict of laws between national legislation and county legislation (Art. 191), and in relation to the Equalisation Fund (Art. 204). But it is the Fourth Schedule that is the sum and substance of the relationship between the national government and counties in relation to the health sector.

Any public policy made in relation to the health sector must account for these constitutional provisions, especially the delineation of functions and powers in the Fourth Schedule: national government has power over national referral health facilities and health policy, and counties have power over and perform functions related to county health services, including, in particular county health facilities and pharmacies and promotion of primary health care.

The promulgation of the Constitution should have triggered a complete reform of the management of the health sector in accordance with the provisions of the Fifth Schedule which was the timetable for the enactment of primary legislation to give force to the provisions of the Constitution. The deadline for legislation for the management of the health sector was five years, 27th August 2015. This deadline would have been met if the policy had been agreed upon after 27th August 2010. The legislation is yet to be enacted, though the Health Bill is wending its way through the Byzantine bowels of Parliament, and the health policy is yet to be settled, especially in regards to the place of the national government in the management of the health sector.

There is no health sector without doctors, nurses, dentists or allied healthcare workers such as clinicians, anaesthisologists, radiologists, pharmacists, veterinary doctors, pharmaceutical manufacturers, medical devices manufacturers, medial training institutions and health sector regulatory bodies. The health sector cannot function effectively without a coherent policy or a coherent public finance infrastructure.

The demands by doctors and other healthcare workers are just part of the demands of the entire healthcare system. We have, so far, dealt with these demands in a piecemeal fashion, robbing Peter to pay Paul, engendering confusion, frustration and unrest. The political gamesmanship between the national and county governments has made what was already a complex and complicated system even more dysfunctional. The costs have been high in both national treasure and lives. The solutions will not be easy or simple, but they must all take into account that the public health system in place before 2010 is no longer constitutionally tenable.

Kenya is notorious for establishing expensive talking shops that more often than not do not achieve much, but nothing can be done if decisions are made and implemented unilaterally. What we need for the health sector is the appointment of a joint commission that brings together public health and finance health professionals from both the national and county governments with a view to drafting a comprehensive health policy for adoption and implementation. It should have a short mandate - not longer than one year - and its recommendations must be binding. It must re-examine all known assumptions about the health sector including the constitutional wisdom of devolving healthcare. Nothing should be off the table. It is the only sensible start that I can think of.

Friday, December 02, 2016

Matiang'i, Kenya's Magufuli

Fred Matiang'i (Education, Science and Technology), Joe Mucheru (Information, Communications and Technology), Joseph Nkaiserry (Interior and Co-ordination of National Government) and George Magoha (Kenya National Examinations Council) have collaborated over a period of months and have been credited with overseeing an examinations season that had the lowest incidences of cheating and other irregularities in a very long time. Many credit this positive development to the personal leadership of the education minister and he is praised for being the rare dedicated, determined and professional public officer who delivers on his mandate. 

He is nicknamed "Magufuli" after the hard-charging President of the United Republic of Tanzania and compared favourably to the frighteningly efficient John Njoroge Michuki, the late former transport minister who brought the matatu industry to heel. President Magufuli makes impromptu visits to public offices, shining a spotlight on the sclerosis that seems to have paralysed his government and determined to inject vim and vigour in the system. Kenyans can recall that both the late Emmanuel Karisa Maitha (former local government minister) and John Michuki had a penchant for the out-of-the-blue meeting, striking the fear of the lord in lazy civil servants. 

This style management by ministerial fear-mongering seems to have served Mr Matiang'i well because the results for the Kenya Certificate of Primary Examination have been released to much fanfare ahead of when they usually are released (usually, some time after Christmas). I have no doubt that Mr Matiang'i encountered a ministerial bureaucracy that had simply resisted all attempts to enter the twenty-first century and he had no choice but to adopt a Magufuli persona. It seems to be the only way in which ministers can effect positive change in the ministries they head and to deny that Mr Matiang'i has been effective is to be grossly uncharitable. But, as with the reins of terror of Messrs Maitha and Michuki, it remains to be seen whether Mr Matiang'i has engendered an institutional transformation or whether things will go back to the way they were as soon as he is shoved out of the Cabinet.

Mr Maitha tragically died too early in hi tenure for us to know whether he would have institutionalised the changes he wanted in the Ministry of Local Government, the ministry charged with overseeing the operations of local authorities nationwide. Bastions of sloth and corruption, not even their conversion into county governments has reversed their tendency for great corruption and incredible sloth. 

We had the opportunity to test the Michuki Way in three separate ministries: transport, internal security and environment. In all three, Mr Michuki is remembered as a hard taskmaster and a stickler for rules and procedures, perhaps a throwback to his days as a colonial-era provincial administrator. At every ministry he headed, visible change was overseen by him, guided by his firm hand. And when he left that ministry, true to form, things fell apart because he didn't institutionalise the changes. The matatu sector is back to its derring-do days; internal security continues to attract the most corrupt public officials in all of the land; and the environment ministry has once again become a backwater of mendacity and rent-seeking. (The jury is still out on whether President Magufuli will reform the Government of the United Republic of Tanzania in his image or not.)

So far Mr Matiang'i has operated in secret and his plans remain largely unknown. He enjoys quite a positive press right now and he should capitalise on it. He should publish the details of the reforms he proposes or is implementing in the education sector and invite stakeholders and the general public to buy in. No matter the outcome, on the basis of the positive results of the 2016 KCPE, Mr Matiang'i has friends and he probably always will. But if he carries on in Lone Ranger fashion, it is almost certain that his reforms will have the very short staying power of the Michuki Rules.

Thursday, December 01, 2016

Mr Bindra's fifty books

Sunny Bindra once wrote that it was possible to read fifty books in one year. It is. If you love reading for the freedom it bestows on your mind, fifty books in a year is not only doable, it is an immensely pleasurable exercise. I will not have read fifty books by the time the New Year rings in; I will probably never read fifty books until I am in a place where reading can occupy a whole or a greater portion of my day. Thanks to Mr Bindra I now understand that this is entirely a good thing. His target is fifty; mine might be a shifting one, anywhere between one and a hundred.

I am not a Millennial; I am, not literally mind you, Mtoto wa Nyayo. I watched as communications technologies moved from rotary phones to touch-tone phones to pagers to brick-sized mobiles to the one-inch-screen mobiles to the explosion in internet penetration to smart phones. I watched technology move from typewriters to electric typewrites to MSDos-based word-processors  to the euphoria of Windows-95 PCs to the triumphal return of Apple with the iMac to netbooks to the game-changing iPad to the two-in-one tablet-laptop devices just gaining in popularity. I watched entertainment evolve from the Kenya Film Commission's outdoor movie projectors to VCRs to laserdisk players to VCD players to DVD players to PVRs and DVRs to online streaming or downloads.

The same can be said about how information is accessed these days. I fear that I will never do what my father can: quote, from memory, entire acts from Shakespeare, whole poems by T.S. Elliot, entire speeches in their original Latin by Cicero or recite with feeling and emotion the sublime romantic turns of phrase in the Song of Solomon. But I can quote, almost verbatim when the spirit is upon me, the opening monologue in 1972's Francis Ford Copolla's The Godfather, the McGuffin scene in Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, evoke the bathos in the Gettysburg scene in Boaz Yakin's Remember the Titans. I can also situate Bob Marley's and Peter Tosh's revolutionary ideals in their music, the romanticisation of struggle in that of Jimmy Cliff, the evolution of the concept of greed from the way in which genge seems to have forgotten the wisdom of the late 1990s when Hardstone's Uhiki was revolutionary and today, when he is all but a faded memory. In short, I access information and, perhaps, knowledge from multiple sources and multiple contexts and my precious books are just one piece of my massive multi-media puzzle.

I am old enough, fortunately, to know that not even a sage like Mr Bindra has all the answers and young enough, I hope, to be able to see what he sees when he writes about disruption, evolution and foresight. I will always work towards the day when I will have more time on my hands to switch off the world, take up a new tome, crack its spine and turn to the first page with the same excitement I did with the first Jeffrey Archer I read when I was in standard four (A Matter of Honour) which I didn't put down for eight straight hours, earning my mother's wrath because I forgot to take the muthokoi from the jiko when the water ran out. (Scrubbing a clay pot of the black remains of solidified muthokoi is a technique for which you and I need an evening of wine and music to cover in detail.)

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Accept nothing but the best

The Rookie Manager (@RookieKE) and the Kenyan Pundit (@kenyanpundit) abhor mediocrity and, so far as I can tell, would not trust the fate of their daughters to quacks, no matter how well-meant the quacks were. They are harbingers of what a society dedicated to the pursuit of excellence should be; they demand the best and they will reward the best when the services are on offer are indeed, the best. But the attitude, their attitude, that we should all emulate is that of demanding excellence, the very best, without apology, especially if that demand is made to a class that consumes so much national treasure and shows so little for it: the public service.

The online edition of the Daily Nation is following up on a story of a man masquerading as a doctor who participated or conducted at least eight surgeries before he was found out by the Kenya Medical Practitioners and Dentists Board. He is currently being prosecuted though the charges laid against him remain difficult to discern from the coverage of the case because, as it usually is in Kenya, the sensational trumps the informative. We now know that the man scored a mean grade of C - (Minus) when he took his Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education and that though he had been admitted to the University of Nairobi, he did not graduate with a degree in medicine. We also know that he has managed to survive for so long and endanger the lives of members of the public with great impunity because few public officials were willing or able to perform their public duties to the highest standard called for by the public trust.

Over the past fifteen years, Kenya has come to learn certain uncomfortable facts about itself, each one more devastating than the last. The first was that some of the heroes of the Second Liberation were not interested in the respect for the rule of law per se; when they challenged Daniel Moi's and KANU's hegemony, they didn't do so believing that his removal from power would usher in a new era of fidelity to the rule of law but their chance at the trough. When they were given a chance to forestall the outcomes of the Anglo-Leasing contracts, they not only doubled down on them, but they expanded them in ways that not even the Moi kleptocracy had anticipated. A hard lesson was learned: even heroes have feet of clay.

The second was that Kenyans' respect for each other, as peoples and as humans, only extended so far. If you were poor and your people were considered generally poor, you received short shrift when it came to public policy, public largesse and public services. The odious Kenyatta-era policy of promoting high potential areas at the expense of the rest of the country was retained; today, it manifests itself in the decision to build a dry port in Naivasha, a town that is not known for major industrial activity but for its flower industry, flamingos and tourist attractions.

The third was the most devastating revelation of all: excellence is notable by its absence in the public service. A hint was given when the University of Nairobi was first mentioned as among the best in Africa. In 2016, it is ranked at 14th position. Yet, by every measure, fewer and fewer enlightened parents wish to send their children to the University of Nairobi, an institution where the likes of Babu Owino have become almost like academic oligarchs, immune to the rules of fair play and incapable of leaving academia to those who wish to read instead using it as a stepping stone to political infamy. The tragedy is how many of our political leaders have encouraged the rise of the likes of Babu Owino and ensured that the spirit that was once responsible for novelists and intellectuals like Ngugi wa Thiong'o, Micere Mugo, Grace Ogot, Phoebe Asiyo, Marjorie Oludhe Macgoye, Okot P'Bitek, Ali Mazrui, Taban Loliyong, Wahome Mutahi and Wangari Maathai continues to be stifled and harrassed. 

The Kenyan academy is not the only institution that has come to embrace mediocrity in its every facet. The Kenya Armed Forces, long before they became the Kenya Defence Forces, had always been proud of their record of discipline especially when deployed in Blue Helmet operations for the United Nations. (This is not to say that the deployment of the army in operations in Kenya could be viewed in the same light; Wagalla, West Pokot and Mt Elgon will forever remain blemishes for which no amount of whit-washing will absolve the army.) But ever since the halcyon days of Operation: Linda Nchi, the only thing we now know the KDF for is the same mendacious kleptomania that has thoroughly infected the National Police Service, from the bribes being collected during army recruitment to the dodgy business operations of the top brass while on deployment in South Sudan and Somalia.

This rot has now infected the Kenyan medical profession. How many of you now trust the healthcare system sufficiently to risk being treated by a Kenyan doctor or a doctor who obtained their credentials in Kenya? Some of you can now link the exodus of the ailing high and mighty to the United States (cancer treatment), the United Kingdom (orthopeadic therapies), India (renal surgery) or South Africa (minor maxillofacial surgery) because of the knowledge that the doctors we train here are, in fact, untrained and are likely to cause greater harm than good should they attempt to treat anyone. Now that this mediocrity has been devolved to the counties with the devolution of the art of buck-passing as well, I shudder to think how many academic rejects have managed to obtain the precious post-nominal letters "M.D." when they have neither the intellectual nor academic capacity to even diagnose the common cold.

We demand the best in our homes and, usually, from our spouses, children, parents, siblings and friends. But we don't seem to care when the men and women for whom our taxes have become monopoly money engage in the most egregiously wanton acts of mediocrity and mendacity. We usually laugh it off and declare fatalistically that, "This is Kenya." We must get rid of this attitude. We cannot keep waiting for the Messiah of Excellence to save us from ourselves. In Bob Marley's words, "None but ourselves can free our minds" and it is time we unshackled our minds from the enslaving mindset that our problems are someone elses problems. The time to keep suffering the mediocre should end and we are the only ones who can end it by settling for nothing less than the best. You can start by doing the best for yourself.

Friday, November 18, 2016

Pomade, narcissism and intellectual waste

The key differences between Larry Madowo's #TheTrend and Jeff Koinange's #JKL are that Mr Madowo is partial to spectacularly colourful socks and Mr Koinange seems hell-bent on keeping the manufacturers of Hair-Glo in business till the end of time. Their similarities, however, are quite striking: both have the most vacuous guests on their shows; both perform some sort of public celebration of "celebrity"; and both eschew anything that has "intelligent", "informed" or "educational" in its profile. While Mr Madowo once celebrated his show's low-brow intentions, Mr Koinange still painfully labours under the delusion that #JKL is a "serious" show. 

The recently leaked footage on Mr Koinange's show's set in which one male gubernatorial candidate dismisses his opponent using the crudest sexism and misogyny known to us (while Mr Koinange and his crew snigger like high school boys) cements the impression that the only serious thing about #JKL is the curiosity about how much Mr Koinange really spends on pomade.

Uduak Amimo, Muchiri Wahome and John Sibi Okumu remain the most talented political interviewers this country has ever produced. Ms Amimo is the last one standing and if she bows out before a replacement is found, Kenya will be left with the likes of the as-useful-as-a-bucket-of-spit #JKL. We should be very, very afraid that the equivalent of Jerry Springer is the talk of the town for the "political" guests he has on his show, never mind that most of what they say is fatuous, vacuous, self-serving bullshit to rival all the political bullshit generated over the ages. That it is often overwhelmingly male should go without saying though it should be said often and loudly.

Mr Koinange and his show are proof positive that we are slowly erasing whatever standards of political discourse we ever had. Beginning with the shutting down of the Weekly Review, the hounding out of business of Finance Magazine and the ill-executed resurrection of the Nairobi Law Monthly, political discourse is poorly served these days. We have only shows like Cheche Live to look forward to and even then, because it is broadcast at 8 in the morning, few of us have the chance to benefit fully from the discourse moderated by Ms Amimo. On TV, radio or in print, Kenya is being fed a steady diet of salacious and scandalous gossip masquerading as "current events" and discourse that is defined by its obsession with sex and sexual innuendo, often at the expense of women or female guests.

I understand; sex sells and the more salacious and sensationalist the innuendo, the higher the TV ratings and the more the station can charge for ads and whatnot. But it is time to stop pretending that shows like #JKL add value to our lives; it is time to remind ourselves that when we demean and denigrate women, when we stand by and snigger as they or their worth is diminished, as we defend those who humiliate them in the name of "political warfare" as one woman put it, we destroy our national soul just a little, we fill our national institutions with just a bit more hostility, we raise our children to be abusers and victims. Mr Koinange's show is a pox on our home and we need a great dose of penicillin to cure us of our attraction to pomade, narcissism and intellectual wastelands.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

The Ndegwa Commission was wrong

The Ndegwa Commission was wrong; civil servants should not run private businesses nor trade with any government ministry, department or agency. The Salaries and Remuneration Commission is useless; staff rationalisation should have been completed a long, long time ago and the size of the public payroll curbed at a manageable number. These two reforms are crucial to tackling official corruption.

Two cases come to mind. Philip Kinisu was a shareholder and director of a company that did business with the National Youth Service, and was paid millions of shillings in tenders that had been challenged by the Auditor-General for their authenticity. Mr Kinisu denied any wrongdoing even though the Ethics and Anti-corruption Commission, which he chaired, was in the middle of an investigation of the tenders awarded by the NYS.

In another case, a company connected to the relatives of the President has been embroiled in a scandal regarding the irregular awarding of tenders and irregular payments made to the company. Now it might be that Mr Kinisu's company and this other company have operated within the strict confines of the law, have broken none of the rules or regulations of public procurement and are otherwise operating at the highest levels of integrity. That is no longer enough. Kenyans believe, rightly or wrongly, that civil servants are rent-seeking quick-fingered crooks, using their offices to benefit themselves at the expense of their fellow Kenyans, their government and their country's interests.

Civil servants are too many and too many of them run businesses that are inherently in conflict with the interests of their ministries, departments or agencies. The Salaries and Remuneration Commission tied itself in knots trying to justify the continued Ndegwa-Commission-era sanctioning of civil servants engaged in private businesses. Coupled with its failure to persuade the national and county governments to take the unpopular decision of firing redundant civil servants has meant that graft will not begin to be tackled with the seriousness it deserves.

Corruption has become a runaway problem. There too many civil servants and too few officers tasked with policing their behaviour to prevent acts of corruption among them. Therefore, if the staff rationalisation programme commenced by the SRC is complete, it should be implemented quickly and humanely. A reduction in the size of the public service coupled with the use of digital human resource tools such as the the payroll management software used by the national public service will go a long way in keeping track of what public officers get up to in their duties.

The more critical reform will be the reversal of the Ndegwa Commission's recommendation that civil servants should be allowed to run businesses. Public officers, their immediate relatives (parents, siblings, spouses, children) shouldn't do business with the Government. The businesses "associated" with public officers and their immediate relatives shouldn't do business with the Government. The development of rules to determine the degree of "association" between public officers, their immediate relatives and businesses should sharpen blunt edges of this broadsword ban. In this way, mealy-mouthed and lawyerly explanations about directorships and shareholdings will be reduced significantly.

As it is, because of the Ndegwa Commission's recommendations, too many public officers suffer great conflicts of interest that are difficult to determine simply because of the truly lax implementation of the rules. How Mr Kinisu believed that he did not suffer any conflict of interest when the NYS investigation was unfolding beggars belief. How a company associated with the president's close relatives won a tender that has come into question and the more obvious conflict-of-interest questions not been asked is telling in and of itself. I am sorry; you may have a right to do business, but the government doesn't have to do business with you, especially if it will continue to compromise the integrity of the public service.

It is time that public officers, their immediate relatives and businesses (including corporations) were banned from doing business with the Government. If a public officer is so obviously talented as to make millions of shillings as a businessman trading with the Government, he is equally talented to make the same millions trading with the private sector. If he desires to continue in a business relationship with the Government, he can do so as a private citizen, competing on an equal footing with the rest of the private sector. The reversal of the Ndegwa Commission's recommendation in regard to civil servants doing business with the Government is the first step towards sorting out the corruption mess we find ourselves in.

Sex and reading the tea leaves

Drain the swamp It means originally “to get rid of the malaria-carrying mosquitoes by draining the swamp. Figuratively, 'drain the swamp' means 'to exterminate something that is harmful; or anything that most of the people hate such as corruption or government waste. (
I have written of Miguna Miguna on this blog on previous occasions, and I find myself doing so again in the wake of a very short video of Mr Miguna, Esther Passaris and Jeff Koinange on the set of Mr Koinange's eponymous TV show in which Mr Miguna makes very misogynistic and sexist statements as Mr Koinange and his TV crew snigger like schoolboys. Mr Miguna is filmed saying,
 "You [garbled] me? Everybody is raping Esther. Esther is so beautiful, everyone wants to rape her. Esther, I'm not one of these men that you can chase around. Chase around, chase around. Chasing men all over, Esther, nobody wants you to! You're too old. Who wants you? Who want you? Esther, nobody wants you! You think you're beautiful; you are not. It's just colour, Esther it's just colour! Without your colour, you're nothing. It's not racist. I'm telling you the truth. You're absolutely zero! You are zero. You're not beautiful, you have nothing going for you. "They" think you're beautiful, the cartels. The cartels think you're beautiful, they sent you here."
In a previous appearance on Mr Koinange's TV show, Mr Miguna behaved with the same degree of chauvinism, sexism and misogyny against Ms Passaris and Margaret Wanjiru, the former MP for Kamukunji. I called him out on it and his "team" let me know exactly what they thought before he came in for the intellectual coup de grâce, pointing out my cartel credentials and my biases against the only principled gubernatorial campaign in Kenya. Suffice to say, even then, Mr Miguna did not see anything wrong with the violent language he had employed against Ms Wanjiru or Ms Passaris.

In this case, Mr Miguna states with obvious satisfaction, "Everybody is raping Esther. Esther is so beautiful, everyone wants to rape her." I wonder why Mr Miguna would imply that beauty in women invites everyone to rape them, and why? In one sentence, Mr Miguna dismisses Ms Passaris's gubernatorial candidature and reduces it to a sexualised dismissal. At that moment, he doesn't see her as a political equal; he sees her as the object of sexual violence unworthy to be in his presence. By his own words he reminds millions of Kenyans that women are not to be taken seriously; their only worth is their beauty and their only use is as sex objects, fit only to be raped.

Mr Miguna is not the only Kenyan politician who has dismissed women in such a sexist and misogynistically cavalier manner. Kenya's second Minister for Justice and Constitutional Affairs, Kiraitu Murungi, in response to the US and EU governments' insistence on anti-corruption credentials for Kibaki's first government, likened the western governments' insistence to "raping a woman who is already willing." Mr Murungi later apologised for his choice of words but it reminded millions of Kenyans that very many Kenyan men do not understand the concept of "no" when it comes to sex. This was reinforced in the debate on the Sexual Offences Bill in which many male parliamentarians deliberately refused to recognise that rape in marriage required a separate provision of its own; to their minds, a married man could never possibly rape his wife.

Mr Miguna's victory is now being foretold along the lines of Donald Trump's victory in the US presidential elections. Mr Miguna is being likened to Mr Trump for his no-apologies, tell-'em-like-it-is, blunt-talk, no-bullshit, I-am-your-saviour style of politicking. His sexism and misogyny is being whitewashed as the feeble attempts of unnamed cartels and faceless cartel agents to derail his principled campaign for Nairobi's highest political office. While Mr Trump may have won in the United States, Kenya need not join the bandwagon of nation-states that need to feel the warm, disapproving embrace of sexual monsters who will save us from our weaknesses, mistakes and stupidity. We must show the world, just as our world-beating marathon champions have shown, that sexism and misogyny have no place in our politics.

Mr Miguna could say what he said to Ms Passaris because he was comfortable in his surroundings: an almost all-male TV, other male guests, a male host with a history of sexual-offence allegations, and a permissive Nairobi that seems to have accepted the anything-goes-to-get-ahead mantra being peddled by thieves, murderers, rapists, conmen and wife-beaters. I doubt whether Ms Passaris will be a good governor; I am sure that she will make a better one than Mr Miguna. If the choice were between him and her, the choice would be very, very easy. In the video clip, Mr Koinange is heard sayiing, "Drain the swamp." I think the swamp of Nairobi politics would benefit from removing Mr Miguna's odious and malignant spectre from it.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Are you a muthamaki?

One of the things that remains unexamined, in Kenya at least, is the role political organising at the grassroots played a key role in Donald Trump's election and the retention by the GOP of its majority in Congress. US citizens, including partisans, can trace the origins of their political parties and strains of political and ideological thought to seminal moments in US history. Even independent voters and candidates in the US espouse specific ideologies, though they are difficult to pigeon-hole in US tribal politics. Few Kenyans, if any, can do the same.

Kenya's oldest party is the Kenya African National Union, Kanu, a decrepit, corrupt and moribund political institution captured by a declining tribal cabal that has failed to read the writing on the wall since the fiasco of Kenya's last mlolongo party elections in 1988. Having become a vehicle for the centralisation and personalisation of State power over the reigns of two autocrats, it lost all legitimacy when it became the de jure ruling party and acquired a malign reputation as the vehicle for the corruption of the institutions of government, the aggrandisement of the well-connected few and the basis for the political excommunication of Kenya's nascent progressives, liberals and socialists. It's defeat in December 2002 should have signalled the re-emergence of liberal political thought. It didn't. Instead, Kenya is paying the price for the hollowing out of the institutions of Government and the State-political capture of civil society.

While US citizens can find and fight over ideological points, points they use to organise one another, Kenyans are not. The recent revelations regarding the banking sector and the theft of hundreds of millions, perhaps even billions, of shillings from the coffers of the National Youth Service demonstrate that even on a matter that should unite all Kenyans, the condemnation of graft, Kenyans (or, at least, their political and religious leaders) do not have an ideological unity. Those that self-identify as members of the political opposition do not come to the anti-graft table with clean hands, the putrid nature of their dealings when they were in positions of political power befouling the air and obscuring facts that should be brought to light in order for Kenyans to engage robustly in a debate of what it means to hold political power in Government. The only argument that seems to prevail in dealing with the corruption of the State is whether or not one is a muthamaki, or its equivalent; his or her culpability in the theft of billions of shillings is neither here nor there.

May US citizens are wringing their hands over the capture of the Republican Party by Donald Trump and his insurgents; in Kenya, however, the "purchase" of political parties, for their use as vehicles for the acquisition of political power, is greeted with pomp and celebration. Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto, in the wake of their indictments at the International Criminal Court, demonstrated the benefits to be gained from the purchase and personalisation of political vehicles in the wake of the experimentation of 2005/2006 by Raila Odinga and Kalonzo Musyoka in their tussle over the Orange Democratic Movement Party of Kenya (long since renamed the Wiper Democratic Movement). 

Political vehicles in Kenya are identified by the politicians who "own" them: Mr Musyoka "owns" Wiper, Mr Odinga "owns" ODM, Musalia Mudavadi "owns" Amani National Congress, Alfred Mutua "owns" Maendeleo Chap Chap and Martha Karua "owns" Narc-Kenya. Noe of these parties, despite their party constitutions and political manifestos, have a true ideology or following. They are empty vessels and like all debes, they have perfected the art of making very loud noises when elections are imminent. 

The next nine months will witness political mobilisation on an unprecedented scale and great political noise; what will not occur is a robust discussion of ideological political issues that affect the majority of Kenyans, those who live in or hovering near poverty. Politicians will paint each other in bad light and mobilise Kenyan voters to ram home their personal attacks on one another. But on the successes or failures of Government and the immiseration of millions because of difficult political and economic choices, there will nary be a peep.

Those Kenyans bemoaning Hillary Clinton's defeat at the hands of Donald Trump do themselves or their causes a great disservice if they fail to examine where Kenya's political party evolution is headed. They imagine that the highly partisan divisions in the US have a mirror in Kenya because of the decade-long contest between the Uhuru-Ruto alliance against the Raila Odinga phenom. Unless we reckon with the enervation of political institutions through the personalisation of the institutions of the State, we shall be unable to participate meaningfully in the political process in Kenya.