Drag us to Singapore? Over our dead bodies

For the past few months, President William Ruto has been explaining his vision to resolutely march his people into a Singapore – a land of untold wealth and comfort.

The president swears that we could create millions of nice jobs, flatten our slums, build public housing for everyone and haul 20 million people out of grinding poverty in 20 years flat.

But we are a peculiar people. Whereas citizens of other nations would spring up with whoops of delight, the reaction in Jamhuri has been one of haughty derision. You lie, Sir, Kenyans have been snarling on social media, in pubs, salons and barbershops and on the rear end of motorcycle taxis where they sit, cuddling pigs and goats headed for slaughter. 

They scoff that our President is engaging in story za jaba, which is rather unkind, considering that Dr Ruto last tasted khat when he was on the campaign trail. The suggestion that he relaxes under a tree at State House every evening, swapping wild, tall tales with pals over bundles of wilting miraa is, therefore, outrageous.

One can’t help sympathizing with the man. A workaholic if ever there was one, the president has been planting trees by the million and dragging slum dwellers and police officers by the ear into spacious, brand-new public housing units where they can whisper sweet nothings to their beloved without neighbours eavesdropping.

The man has built industrial parks, stadia, airstrips and fishing piers, employed tens of thousands of teachers and police officers, and ruthlessly slammed the lid on official corruption and government wastage. He has launched roads and bridges by the dozen, created thousands of jobs for young Kenyans overseas and dramatically improved the livelihoods and welfare of the “hustlers” who swept him into power.

And yet, the people claim that he has done absolutely nothing since he was sworn in – nothing. It is as if they have eyes, but they refuse to see the obvious: we are building this nation at breakneck speed.      

This skepticism is understandable. At independence, President Jomo Kenyatta promised Kenyans freedom, only to deny us freedom after speech. He swore to eliminate illiteracy, hunger and disease, but spent too much time watching ngoma, eating boiled goat meat and inspecting large pieces of land, instead of attending to matters of State.

President Kibaki, on the other hand, came to power threatening zero tolerance for corruption, only for his officers to mumble, “Kwani hamjui jokes?” Meanwhile, throughout Kibaki’s presidency, opposition leader Raila Odinga kept promising to lead Kenyans to Canaan. By the time he left to join Jehovah Wanyonyi, he had long resigned to the reality that Canaan was a pipe dream.

But there is something else too. We have become accustomed to our country. Like an old car owner, we have learned which engine and suspension noises to ignore, so long as the old jalopy smokes and rattles along. We merrily motor away, perched on torn seats, without side mirrors, rear view mirrors or seatbelts. We know our old junk, and it knows us. Why then would we swap it for a brand-new machine that would demand of us to dress better, drive better, maintain better, insure better and not fling used diapers and condoms out of the window?

There is a familiar charm about our largely dysfunctional and corrupt public institutions, our police force which arrests and arraigns suspects in court without reviewing available CCTV footage, our judges who are rumoured to balance the scales of justice with sacks of millet, and our filthy urban centres.

See, in all the years I have lived, I never saw a man or woman brag that they live in Muthaiga, but I have marveled many a time at the pride and machismo with which those of the “ghetto” announce their stomping grounds. “Mimi ni chali wa mtaa…”

I fear that President Ruto will get fed up of our skepticism and say “to hell with these idiots”. I worry that he will buy a one-way ticket to Singapore to leave us to wallow in familiar filth and decay – a thought that, I suspect, may have occurred to the Biblical Moses.