Bookpoint Finally Ends Its Long Chapter In Book Trade

Bookpoint, a prominent book store in town, has closed its chapter, ending a story that has been running for more than 70 years. A family dispute is reportedly the cause of the closure. The store shall be missed by book lovers, which perhaps is just about the only positive point about their closure. 

I have very fond memories of this place; from the smell of old books, the weirdly intoxicating scent that haunts libraries and second-hand book stores; the helpful employees who astoundingly could tell you whether or not a book was in stock without even looking around the shelves or referring to the catalogue; the brief chats with the Asian proprietors; yeah even the one-off encounters with a gorgeous, perhaps astray, woman along the aisles. I will surely miss the Saturday afternoons spent at the store.

Source:
First paragraph lifted from today's Standard.

Read between these lines

Propaganda can be defined as the deliberate manipulation of information in order to influence public opinion so as to meet a desired outcome. A majority of governments and institutions have relied on this age-old practice to sway public opinion, create smoke screens, obfuscate and even at times pacify the masses. The holders of this position are usually the charismatic, outgoing and persuasive sell-ice-to-an-eskimo type. Joseph Goebbels was one, and he practiced his trade to perfection. Back home we have our own.
They come in all shapes, colors, sizes and from many different geographies. They have spanned virtually all administrations. Their mission is plain and simple; sow the seeds of confusion which will eventually germinate into public confusion, argument and discord. By then their mission is complete and they exit the scene sometimes in a rather dramatic way.
You might want to rethink the Artur saga, the one that worked so well that it was in a subtle way repeated to the feckless goyim again this year. Think about it; who in their right mind steals a state-of-the-art, very conspicupus, trackable motor vehicle that's part of a presidential motorcade? What kind of gutsy imbecile confronts an armed police officer to carjack him and make away with the car he is driving? We know that Kenyan goons have an insatiable proclivity for Japanese vehicles, not the ones made by "ze Germans."
The conclusion of this charade would suggest it was orchestrated by an amateur, further buttressing the argument that it was not a real robbery.
Nevertheless, always with a penchant for salacious, dramatic and spicy stories, the populace either totally missed the real events unfolding in the background, or significantly paid less attention. The car was recovered; we returned to our drab lives; those who sell "unga" closed another billion shilling deal!
Our ears and eyes are now glued to the dramatics at the County Governments; we are on to our next "high", like the dope fiends who survive from one shot to the next. The bosses know we can' t do without our dose and they happily help us shoot up whenever it serves their interests. Let us stop this. Let us read between the lines; see what is going on behind-the-scenes; lets learn this "Art of war" tactic of diversion lest we overdose on something that will suck the life out of our emaciated, scrawny carcasses.

After all, hii pesa sio ya mamako huh!

Boda boda misbehavior

It is not in doubt that Kenya, and in particular, Nairobi is one of the most unsafe cities to drive. In fact i was surprised when Nairobi did not appear in the series "Don't drive here!", aired some months ago by one of the local television channels. Many of the so-called 'dangerous' places to drive, such as Mumbai would probably have paled in comparison to the antiques and creativity we see from motorists everyday on our patchwork of Chinese and "kazi kwa vijana" roads.

But I suppose there's no need to despair because there are probably other reasons that caused the producer of that most wonderful show not to come to Africa. And besides, we have already made our colorful name in many other famous -and rather infamous ways all over the globe.

However, while watching that show, my mind never ceased to stray and imagine just how an episode about driving in Nairobi would be like. How about starting from the lovely epidermis of our roads? What a lovely full-body massage one gets while travelling around the city! I have recently noticed that the inhabitants of the Thika Rd. environs have been getting a little grumpy lately, perhaps an upshot of the lack of the body-stimulating massages the rest of Nairobians get. Next- and this is salient- is the hordes and hordes (and i mean hordes) of dirt bikers and stuntmen who double up as messengers in motorcycles? And i bet almost every Nairobian has a pet-peeve or two about this one. Why would they? One might ask, but consider just how law abiding these guys are: always late to obey traffic lights (better late than never, huh?); massaging our ears as we walk with all manner of music; helping pedestrians flex and stretch every sinew and fiber of their being as they scamper to avoid being liquidated; no wonder they recently claimed that their female passengers were molesting them. They must have even bumped up the Chinese economy one Yuan or two because of all the motorbike purchases. 

Seriously, i do understand that the bikers on our roads need to make a living. But they also need to be mindful of other road users, motorists or otherwise. I also understand that we're all in a hurry; trying to beat that deadline; clinch that deal; even wow that date. But bikers, you have no more right to use the roads than i do. Observe traffic rules and regulations and respect other motorists lest you end up in a can of beef.

Let us not go beyond the precipice

I reproduce, for warning purposes, a response posted online by someone (i presume Kenyan) which serves as a dire warning to all about what awaits us if we lose our cool and allow politicians to manipulate us and incite us against each other. I have added nothing, other than punctuation here and there; Credits to the author.

Kenya, let me dissect for you the chronology of Rwanda in the making. When the first canon is fired, you will celebrate and bay for   their   blood. Reports will start trickling in that some enemies have been killed in Coast, Rift Valley and the shanties in Nairobi, this will turn your celebration into... a frenzy. 4 days later, the mood

will change, no longer getting the basic provisions such as food, your celebration will be cut short to attend to more urgent matters, that is, fending for yourself. 2 weeks down the line, when your energy levels have ebbed to the lowest, reports will reach you that your enemy has regrouped and is coming for your neck and that of your loved ones. You will now abandon the quest for food to that of saving your own life. International news media will show you, and your kin, carrying mattresses heading to a safe haven, most likely a church. You will reach the church and

much to your horror, find thousands of people, many from your perceived enemy tribe also camped there, fighting for the little provisions donated by the UN. That night it will rain heavily and exposed, hungry, scared and nursing a deep machete wound on your most loved one's forehead, the slow realities of   Rwanda in the making will start sinking in. If you are still surviving one month down the line, 30 kgs down from your usual weight, you will start wondering who is fighting who, since the camp is cosmopolitan and you are all fighting for basic survival not caring who comes from which tribe. But that’s just the beginning. The next day, your camp will be raided, 5 of your loved ones will be slaughtered and you will be lucky to escape with a bullet wound on your right leg. UN will now heap you into lorries and transfer you to another camp. In excruciating pain and feverish from your infected leg, the second reality of war will hit you: what the hell is the fight all about? You will die 3 days later, from neglect really since people around you are so used to seeing others die to bother about your feeble groans from your leaking tent. 4 months later, corpses, including yours, will be buried in a mass grave as the lieutenants that started the war sit at a table in some hotel in Kampala to craft another power-sharing deal. There will be relative calm as the vultures enjoy the spoils of war, the politicians will be back to their cosy offices... My point is, when the drums of war are sounded, everyone is a theoretical winner but the reality is so different a few months later. What  s more, war does not guarantee equality, it dehumanizes and traumatizes people. Every little thing you’ve worked for goes...

I will leave you with this, tribe is not your enemy, people that sit in ivory towers from all political divide and subdue you are. Change will come when you start demanding

accountability right from your county upwards. Have a blessed and b peaceful. 

Threats of Saba saba

Saba saba, the day in 1992 when the clamor for multipartyism climaxed and pushed Daniel Arap Moi's government to set in motion changes to the constitution that would allow for more than one political party. 

But the price paid that day at Kamkunji gorunds in Nairobi may never be forgotten. Blood was shed; police truncheons descended on demonstrators knees; tears and sweat flowed freely as tear gas caused a thick, hazy atmosphere; live ammunition was fired at protesters. It was not all in vain as the changes to the constitution ushered in the first ever General election in Kenya's history and eventually led to the exit of the much-maligned Moi regime. We doff our hats to the heroes of that day; Matiba, Odinga, Shikuku, Orengo et al.

Today some 20+ years after saba saba, some of the architects of this political uprising are still delirious about being in power. They have simply failed to move on. They are always in a "revolution mode," but they themselves will accept no challengers, no fresh ideas, no young turks, without an overt endorsement by them. They are simply in denial, preaching water while drinking wine. 

We were treated to a very brutish party election in February, right before "baba" left for the states to, as Miguna put it, loiter aimlessly from state to state. Let us not mince words. If the ODM party elections had progressed as intended, there would have been quite a change in leadership, young guns that would have undermined Odinga's influence in the party and eventually forced him out. He acutely knew this, so he sanctioned goons from various parts of the country to destroy the whole process, then ironically appointed a committee to investigate the whole charade. The culprits -which in this case is himself- have never been brought to book.

The writing is on the wall.

When Odinga talks about a 'political storm,' he perhaps unwittingly does not realize how close to the guillotine his neck is. What he is basically doing is throwing stones while living in a glass house. If i were UhuRuto, i wouldn't be cowed by these empty threats, rather, i would work to foment more chaos in the already disorganized bunch of clowns known as CORD. Did you realize just how chaotic the much-hyped rally at Uhuru park was? We heard nothing from the appointed second in command, not even a word of welcome for the former P.M. It was just a bunch of politicians jostling and jockeying for position...and for the microphone. Then there was the ignominious moment for the Governor of Nairobi, the senior-most Cord official in office today.

As Odinga calls for reform, political tsunami, a storm, let him also continue to ponder his own fate. Let him be careful, lest he becomes a victim of his own revolution -like some of the vanguards of the various revolutions that have happened in the past around the world.

Our drinking problem

The season is here with us again. It is time for us to witness our men-in-uniform gallantly protecting us by overturning tanks of illicit liquor; puncturing holes in tanks of adulterated alcohol (read: poison); chasing down and purportedly arresting charlatan brewers; mothers and even men shedding tears.....you name it! We have become a nation of harmful and deadly repetitive cycles. What happened early this month is nothing new. We have seen it repeatedly, yet nothing meaningful ever gets done by authorities. It is one of the consequences of our collective amnesia. What is also worrying is the apathy that seems to engulf us all. Nothing ever seems to move us anymore. A quick glance into our recent past and the way in which we have swept some of the issues under the carpet -without coming up with ways to forestall them in the future- is a tad too worrying. 

A chill runs down my spine as i witness the wasting of a generation. And an issue that is perhaps bigger than the manufacture and sale of poison packaged as alcohol, is the despondency and annihilation of an entire generation of men and women. Yes, perhaps not so surprising, is the fact that numerous women were among those admitted to hospitals with poisoning. Some of the survivors vowed to never allow a drop of alcohol into their bodies again; others didn't care despite having left behind orphans.....it was too late for them!

Sadly, this isn't the end of it. Not too far away from now, another one of our repetitive catastrophes will befall us again. One needn't be a "prophet" nor must one be able to "talk secretly with any supreme being" or utilize the services of a crystal ball to predict this. One needs only to look at the loose ends we failed to tie up in our past to know that they will come back to smite us.

Its time for us to change our ways. The clock is ticking....and time waits for no man. Seal all the loopholes in the production of alcohol; make alcohol affordable..........what ever happened to the legalization of genuine chang'aa in late 2010 and the new liquor laws? 

http://www.vice.com/read/really-strange-brew-0000009-v18n10

Was it not potent enough (in spite of the harsh ingredients such as decomposing rats and womens' underwear) or was that just a PR exercise? Just to jog your memory, Kibaki appended his signature to the Alcoholic Drinks Control Bill 2010, alongside the Prevention of Organised Crime Bill 2010, and Commission of Inquiry (Amendment) Bill 2009. The Alcoholic Drinks Control Bill repeals the Chang’aa Prohibition Act, which made it illegal to produce or consume traditional liquors like chang’aa.
Read more at: http://www.standardmedia.co.ke/business/article/2000017391/chang-aa-now-legal-but-must-be-bottled

Her name betrays it all....Or does it?

The Nairobian online community is ablaze about a certain photo allegedly captured in the last few days, that portrays a female police officer, walkie-talkie in hand, conversing with a colleague. But what has attracted the attention -and imagination- of many is not the fact that this person appears to be quite engrossed in "utumishi kwa wote", but rather the claim that the skirt she is wearing is too revealing of her well-endowed bottom. And, as usual, the majority of people online have come up with all sorts of comments -some in support of, and some against- this picture. It does not even help, as some would say, that her name betrays it all. 

Clearly, the police service appears to be using a new vector in the war on crime and terror....and this should be commended in every way possible. Why bother cocking G-3 rifles and AK-47s with cold, hard shapeless steel when you can employ other tactics at a cheaper cost? Why employ the Nyayo house torture chamber tactics such as water-boarding, threats of circumcision or squeezing male testicles to a pulp, when one can extract information in a more peaceful and entertaining manner? As any man will corroborate, the mass weapons of destruction displayed by the famed police officer trump any other weapon or interrogation technique when it comes to extorting information. Females know; they have used this same technique- or one of its derivatives- for eternity...and it works miracles!

Sadly, the police service appears to have been testing the waters...for as soon as the salacious picture went viral online, the officer was reprimanded and given a different uniform. Let us live it to the undercover police officers, the police service appears to have said, and see how that pans out. Guys, be on the lookout!

Back trading

After a hiatus of a year or so, I am back at the bourse. Yes, the inevitable beckon of the shiny coin has led me back to the NSE. Last year, without any sound financial knowledge or information-and with wild stabs in the dark, I was able to make a lukewarm, close to a thousand dollars, in a couple of months. Note, this was merely for just having my meagre deposits at the CDSC, basking in the sun, along the beach and enjoying a tall glass of ice-cold water! It kind of makes me wonder what a seasoned investor, well-grounded in financial jargon and the mechanics of trading, made at the NSE. While it may not have surprised a seasoned investor, my jaw dropped as I watched a couple of counters' values rise three-fold in just a couple of months. I rued why I had not invested in some of them. This year I hope to put in a lot more- and hopefully reap more from the stock market. But I also plan to be armed with sound information because the very least any investor can do is research widely about the dynamics of the trade....and learn the jargon.

Let's see how this goes.

A walk down historic Nairobi

Nairobi, known in the '70's as the "Green City in the sun", is home to millions of hopeful souls. Literally translated from the Masai language, it means the 'place of cold water'. But ponder for one minute just how well you know the place you have called 'home' since you arrived here. How well do you know the streets? Can you give accurate directions from 'A' to 'B', strictly by the names of her streets? If you can, let me throw in a twist: Do you know the historic names of some of her major streets? 

Guided by a pre-1960 map of Nairobi, lets take a walk down memory lane with a few personal anecdotes that reference the historical names of some of our streets.

The year was sometime in the early nineties, when I was nearing completion of my primary school education, and by this time, preparations for joining a good secondary school were in full gear. It was a cold, cloudy Saturday morning and I was nervous because later that day I was to take an entrance examination/interview at one of the prestigious, top Boys' secondary schools situated in Lavington, Nairobi. My mom and I were to rendezvous early that morning with a colleague of hers along Delamere (Sixth) Avenue so that she could drop us at the school. My mom's friend was right on time! We boarded the vehicle and set off towards the school. We navigated our way out of the traffic along Delamere Ave. and joined one of the City's main arteries, Princess Elizabeth way. We finally arrived at the school, located a couple of kilometres off the highway. I got into the school, confident, pen and paper in hand.....perhaps I might have left behind an important part my brain because the interview was tough and I never made the cut. I remember having to dash to the wash rooms mid-interview, almost peeing on myself maybe because of the rigor of the test.

Nevertheless upon completion -six-or-so months later- of the much-maligned 8-4-4 , or more aptly put, eight-fo-fo system of education, I joined a mixed day school, also located further north along Princess Elizabeth way. I was condemned to another four years of mis-education by the National education system. I call it mis-education because of the enormous number of drop outs along the way and the staggering, nay, alarming number that fail to gain admission into any university, public or private at the end of their secondary education. Last year alone, only twenty seven percent obtained a grade that allowed them to return home confidently and face their parents and guardians. 

During my tenure in secondary, my daily commute back home from school frequently lead me along both Victoria Street and Government Road, where i almost always had to contend with hordes of Nairobi-ans pacing in all directions, frantically hoping to get to their next destination on time. Nairobi seemed densely populated even then -with perhaps with a population of about two million by 1999 estimate. There was the occasional Nai-robbery which either consisted of a threat to be smeared with faecal matter or downright mugging in broad daylight if one did not dole out a generous amount of cash. School goers like me were often forced to part with loose change; Men in suits and women usually parted with much more fearing utter humiliation. If one survived far enough to board a matatu, they often breathed a sighed of relief once in there and their pulses momentarily stabilized as it sped off along Whitehouse Road (First Ave.)

Many years later, I would find myself along Conaught Rd., on my way to a tertiary college as I had not obtained a grade that would allow me to participate in four more years of demonstrations, stone throwing and rioting along Nairobi's streets. Back then, even a C+ couldn't get one into university directly and there weren't as many private universities as we have today. Thanks to the proliferation of university education, those students that have fared less favorably at KCSE now have a chance at meaningful higher education.

Conaught Rd. was always, and still is, one of the 'cleaner' and more nice places to walk along in the city centre. Its appearance belies the cloak and dagger politics and horse trading that goes on inside one of the adjacent structures. If only business inside those chambers could be as clean, maybe we would all have a better nation.

Now, decades later, I still find myself strutting along these streets, albeit with different ambitions and thoughts in my mind. The streets still haven't changed much, and neither has the population. Certain streets such as York street have been redesigned to allow only one-way traffic, flower beds and more room for pedestrians but other than the cosmetic, superficial changes, they remain the same. Other streets such as Sadler street went on to acquire bad reputations and perhaps can do with another name and image change. 

One would probably think they know everything about our city but before you claim to really know Nairobi, please remember the city is more than 100 years old, and has a rich and diverse history to it. One can start with a learning little history about the naming of our streets in the attached map.

Orange Democratic Melee

As if the party nominations last year were not enough display of what ails political parties in our banana republic, the ODM party's National Delegates Conference, meant to choose new officials to steer the party in a new direction, was a complete shambles. The actors in this charade would probably have given Lupita Nyong'o a run for her money in the Oscars. And not only because of their skin color!

Right before the casting of votes began, these hooligans descended on the ballot boxes, ripping them apart and destroying them, putting to a premature end the entire electoral process. The dressing of these goons would probably have earned them 'Best-dressed supporting cast', if ever there was such an award. The look on their faces and the viciousness and boldness with which they did their side job was legendary. These guys must have known the stage was all theirs...I'm talking Lights, Camera Action! Now the whole exercise has cast a dark shadow on the party and its credibility and much needs to be done to restore its image as the leading opposition party. But what needs to be done?

First, swift investigations need to be carried out and overseen to the end to bring the culprits to book. But this will be tough because senior party officials are probably involved....and this can never come to light! The party will likely employ the age-old tactic of buying time till this is forgotten.

Second, reconstitute the systems and structures responsible for the party elections, presumably the secretariat. How this will be possible without first finding out those responsible for the mess escapes me.

Lastly, have a meaningful, positive and captivating message! And perhaps this is one of the things that the new, young leadership was to bring on-board. There is much they can spin off of Jubilee's misdeeds and use it to garner fresh support from disillusioned Kenyans.

Je, Ni Wakati?

"(Ni wakati) kwa Afrika yote kusimama
(Ni wakati) kwetu sisi hapa vijana
(Ni wakati) Tusiishi kama jana
(Ni wakati) Siku za usoni kutazama."

-Kalamashaka

Yes indeed, it is time to rise up! As i write this, there is a crowd of people demonstrating along University Way, Nairobi, chanting "Haki Yetu!", the ordinary Kenyan's alternative anthem. At this point I'm not really sure what this demonstration is about. But lately, they do happen every other day, sporadically and seemingly spontaneously. But perhaps of more importance is what exactly seems to be our problem? What seems to be continuously eating away at and viciously eroding our collective psyche?

Those are questions that have as many answers as there are shiny stars in the clear night sky. Ask any one of the hoi polloi down the street and you'll have begun a conversation without a quick end. 

This is not an article about what went wrong yesterday, who did what, what wasn't done according to the laid-down procedures, or what not. Neither is it a pontification about what needs to be done to correct those wrongs.

We need to rise up! We need to 'wake up and smell the coffee.."

Proverbs 6:9-11

How long will you lie there, you sluggard?

 When will you get up from your sleep?

A little sleep, a little slumber,

 a little folding of the hands to rest—

and poverty will come on you like a thief

and scarcity like an armed man.

Indeed, poverty and scarcity seem to be creeping up on us like an armed man. Could this be one of the reasons we formed an alternate anthem?I don't know. But i do know that every so often i am having to pay more, increase contributions, dig deeper into my pockets, sacrifice more, toa ndugu, toa dada.....the ballad goes...

Deut 1:6-8

"The Lord our God said to us.., “You have stayed long enough at this mountain. Break camp and advance into the hill country.."

We have stayed long enough at this mountain. We need to step out, Take charge! We must demand for what is rightfully ours. Good governance, justice, decent standards of living and so forth. Let us rewrite our anthem.

"(Ni wakati) kwa Wakenya wote kusimama
(Ni wakati) kwetu sisi hapa ma-vijana
(Ni wakati) Tusiishi kama jana
(Ni wakati) Siku za usoni kutazama."