My Bleeding Pen

One can only see what one observes, and one observes only things which are

already in the mind.

-ALPHONSE BERTILLON

. . . For Mercy has a human heart,

Pity a human face,

And Love, the human form divine,

And Peace, the human dress.

-WILLIAM BLAKE, Songs of Innocence

( The Divine Image )

Cruelty has a Human Heart,

And Jealousy a Human Face,

Terror the Human Form Divine,

And Secrecy the Human Dress.

The Human Dress is forged Iron,

The Human Form a fiery Forge,

The Human Face a Furnace seal’d,

The Human Heart its hungry Gorge.

-WILLIAM BLAKE, Songs of Experience

In my hands is power. The power to heal or to destroy. To grant life or to cause death.

I revere this gift, have honed it over time to an art as magnificent and awesome as any

painting in the Louvre.

I am art, I am science. In all the ways that matter, I am God.

God must be ruthless and far-sighted. God studies his creations and selects. The best

of these creations must be cherished, protected, sustained. Greatness rewards perfection.

Yet even the flawed have purpose.

A wise God experiments, considers, uses what comes into His hands and forges

wonders. Yes, often without mercy, often with a violence the ordinary condemn.

We who hold power cannot be distracted by the condemnations of the ordinary, by

the petty and pitiful laws of simple men. They are blind, their minds are closed with fear --

fear of pain, fear of death. They are too limited to comprehend that death can be conquered.

I have nearly done so.

If my work was discovered, they, with their foolish laws and attitudes, would damn

me.

When my work is complete, they will worship me.

for some, death isn't the enemy, life was a much less merciful opponent

for the ghosts who wander aimlessly in the Nairobi night, preying on the innocent who, unlike them, had found purpose in the mundane rhythm of life in Nairobi.

Life wasn't too pleasant, wasn't even close, they were forced to scavenge the streets for their daily bread, much like the old uncivilized days. But one thing was different, this was the concrete jungle. This scene hadn't the same food chain, the predator was man. The prey? Why, he was man too. Civilization and technology brought progress, and evolution. New age evolution. Man can mould himself into many different characters on the playing field of life.

Has man has lost his way? The first principle of life is do no harm.

The rest? Survive, thrive, protect your kin. These men around us, have transcended the rules of nature, power is the new food, wealth is the new air. They breathe more than their kin, and eat alone. My brothers wallow in poverty when the men in whom they entrusted their welfare seem set on different goals.

The gun was our voice, and we shouted, and forty years ago, our voice was heard.

A new age was upon us, we were fresh with fervent energy for our nation, we were one, and this time, the pen was our voice, our gun.

Forty years, forty five, nearing fifty now, have passed. The pen seems not to speak loudly enough. Or is it that the men who hold our pen forgot how to write?

For the poor and displaced in our country, for the many, pain, despair and terror are daily companions who we live with. It is now a privilege, for many, to have running water in their homes. It a gift to be grateful for, having uninterrupted electricity, getting a means home in the evening?”MY, today's a wonderful day!”

my question is, what happened to us? Or what is happening to us?

My pen bleeds for my country, as we thought the age of oppression and tyranny was over.

We are faced with new villains, who tout themselves as leaders, elected in favour of their people, with the legitimate mandate of the shameful electoral system.

They rape and pillage their own homes, no villain has ever done that. Or am I wrong? no villain ever robbed his own home, and flaunted his steals with as much pride as our leaders do. Shame? Morality? Decency? Kindness? Rationale?

No, those are signs of weaknesses, and our leaders are not weak, they are proud, and venerable beasts!

Humanity boasts of all characteristics noble, demanded of all leaders, which is the main distinction between us and the other creatures in the animal kingdom, and with the evidence that our leaders lack these characteristics, is it to say that they are not human?

It has no longer become a question of whether our leaders will steal, it is now a question of how much?

Is it Food for the poor? Or books for the children? Or Land that feeds the rivers which feed our nation?

Wealth is no longer seen as a means, but as an end. It has been said of how much land the families of our leaders own in Kenya, spanning more than the size of entire provinces. It has been said that the wealth of our leaders can rival many whose names are in the Forbes list, but that is not my question.

My question is, what happened, and what happens now?

The civilisations of the world were founded on bloodshed, and our national anthem, our national flag, all proclaim that blood was already shed for our country. That the pain and suffering ended, that my fore fathers fought for the fruits I enjoy now. But what fruits?

It has been forty seven years since independence. In the 1960s, statistics showed that Africa was richer than many countries in the far east. The tides have turned completely, Africa is getting poorer, while the east is on the brink of overtaking the west in wealth in the next few decades. What did we get independence from? If our people still go hungry for days, while the politician who has more than he, or ten of his descendant generations could finish, even if they wished to?-sits calm and watches?

The civilizations of the world were founded on bloodshed, and we were told that we already gave our blood for peace. As more continue to die, and more continue to suffer, and more continue to be oppressed, and more are denied justice, we are losing the semblance of peace in this country.

There is a distinction between a state and a nation .A state is defined by the political boundaries surrounding a country, and all that is within it, a nation on the other hand, is a home, a protector, and a source of political identity. The difference between these is clear, and surely, the conflict in Kenyan history since independence shows that this is not a nation. The stages that a country passes through from statehood to nationhood are evidenced in the history of many of the world's most successful nations' histories. Coups, ethnic violence, human rights injustices, conflicts of allegiance, polarization, endemic corruption, and finally, if not inevitably, war, and even genocide. Nationhood has been predicated on bloodshed, is Kenya next, is this inevitable?

Can we as Kenyans do anything about it?

The values stated in our national anthem, the oath of allegiance, the constitution, the values that our institutions should ideally follow, should reflect on the people themselves. It all begins with each one of us, because our leaders are a reflection of the people they represent, and these are certainly behaviours that we engage in unconsciously, on a collective level. These are the behaviours that we are in denial about, the behaviours that we engage in every day, and the ones that operate below the surface of our daily awareness.

That traffic police officer who takes a bribe to let a man who disrupted traffic by jumping the traffic lights, go free, didn't act alone.

The Judge who was paid to deliver a judgement favouring a different person, didn't act alone.

The man who was paid to heckle another politician and cause chaos didn't act alone,

the man who was paid to count election ballots against the favour of the rightful winner, didn't act alone. Who are these people going to administer justice to, if the the people themselves don't believe in them?

There are always two sides to a story, each persons side, and the truth.

Character is who we are when nobody's watching, how many people obey rules when nobody's watching, when there's no policeman around, do we jump the traffic lights? Do we offer bribes, do we take them?

We need to look within ourselves and realize that Kenya is what it is because we let it, and it can only be different, if we make it.

Each one of us must play their role, and we must not assume that we aren't big enough to matter. The important thing is that we work together. Its our problem, and I hope that we will notice this before its too late. History doesn't necessarily repeat itself, but it sure can rhyme.