Government rolls out plans to make corruption benefits available to all

Following the release of a corruption survey that showed unfair advantage in reaping from corruption, the government has announced that it will roll out civic education to ensure that all citizens have equal opportunities to eat the national pie. Below is the government parrot's speech to announce the plans.

Dear citizens,

I know that you have not read the corruption survey report, but do not worry because I already read it for you. I am not surprised that the usual corruption suspects have emerged tops. They perfected the art of reaping from the corruption basket a long time ago. I am also not surprised that lawyers and land surveyors are suspected to make tidy sums out of the bribes and inducements you invest in them. You are  all too kind, but I can't help feeling sorry for you because you have been reduced to victims. But do not worry, I will sort you out so that you can also reap the fruits of corruption.

As you well know by now, the recently released corruption survey cannot pass unmentioned because if it did I would have failed in my duty as the chief government parrot. I am sure you heard about the Indian minister who told his countrymen that while looting is a no-no, pinching a little bit from the public coffers is OK and I agree with him. And that is what we as a government have decided to teach you to do. It has come to our attention, by way of our advisors that every time a report on corruption is released, the common mwananchi feel shortchanged because they can only watch as the bigwigs eat. Being an election year, we cannot afford to have you all resentful towards us so we will show you how to reap where you are because you are not in a position to loot like the bigwigs. You probably remember those hapless diaspora scientists who were trying to force an anti-corruption vaccine down your babies' throats. They had us disturbed because for a moment we thought you would side with them and demand the vaccines. But thankfully you were sensible enough and defended corruption, because I'm sure we all know that one day it will be your turn to eat big. For now I can only promise to teach you how to eat the breadcrumbs as you work your way up. Last year, I promised to roll out civic education to teach you how you can also benefit from corruption.

I must apologize for the delay in rolling out this long overdue and revolutionary skills transfer programme. But as you all understand, new projects such as this provide opportunities for eating higher up the corruption chain. Hopefully after the big cats are done dipping their hands in the funds set aside for this project, there will be some left to trickle down to you in form of civic education. It is a win-win situation: A fat cat will line his pockets and you will acquire skills to play in your local corruption league. You will no longer be left out or reduced to victims who only pay bribes and watch while the receivers get wealthier. But before that let me get this off my chest.

I heard you give an average of Sh9,000 as bribes. And you call yourselves "sufferers"!? You guys are rich and soon I will teach you how to get people to line your pockets too. Also, some of you said that you don't know where to report incidents of corruption. How silly! What do you want to report corruption for? Don't be naive! Get on the bus and make some money for yourselves because times are hard. In any case, we have made sure that the offices where you could report are too far or otherwise inaccessible, so give up already!

And now dear citizens, I cannot say for sure when the civic education will start, but I can assure you that the bigwigs are almost done carving out their cuts and once we see what's left to work with we'll put you on board. In the meantime I will give you a helpful hint. This is how it works: when you want a job you bribe someone and you get in. So close your eyes and think: what are you doing every day that people can bribe you for? Wives why are you performing wifely duties for free? Teachers why do you complain about earning peanuts when you can get bribes from parents to get their children into your top-performing class? Those are just tidbits and the rest will be given to you during civic education. Until then, I am your proud parrot.

Scientists establish human mating season

Scientists are on the verge of identifying the human mating season, the preliminary report of an ongoing study has revealed.

According to leading gynaecologists based at the Human Fertility Research Programme, human beings, just like other animals, have a mating season, but this could vary from one region to another. However, the human mating season is different from the animal oestrus cycle for the obvious reason that humans are higher up the superiority chain in the animal kingdom.

"We like to think of ourselves as superior, but we are really just another bunch of animals in the jungle experiencing animal tendencies just like the rest of the beasts," Dr Reale Mate, the lead scientist in the study, said during the launch of the preliminary report.

While animals experience an oestrus cycle at specific times of the year when the female is said to be "on heat", and during which the females are sexually active, human beings are not restricted in their their sexual activity, and  can indulge at any time of the month. However, the scientists want to prove that there is a specific season when majority of  female humans conceive and that is what they are calling the mating season.

The ongoing study seeks to establish when exactly the human mating season starts based on the months when most pregnancies are recorded. The scientists suspect that contrary to public opinion which believes that mating season may be in the June - July period, the real heats start around  December to February every year.

"The Kenyan winter season (Late May to early August) does not feature anywhere on our charts because at that time, the reproductive cells are too frozen to accomplish their mission. Only the fittest make it.

"The real mating season likely starts after late September, peaking around November and December and goes up to February. The temperatures then are more conducive to give the right environment for the cells to make the reproductive journey," Dr Mate explained.

The results of the study are expected to be released  in February next year, followed by control studies to establish the validity of the claims.

In related news, women who are not currently expectant are crying foul after being left out of the prevailing baby boom. They are now calling on the government to turn back the hands of time by a few months to enable them get pregnant, so that they can also enjoy maternity leave like their colleagues.

"I never got the memo that women had plotted to be expectant at this time. It is unfortunate that I will be left at work for three lonely months while my sisters enjoy the fruits of their wombs," a distressed female worker told our reporter.

However, once the final HRFP study has been released, clueless women who do not want to be left out during the baby production season, will find it easier to synchronize their reproductive activities with the human mating season with greater success.


Did you know:


Fact or Fiction: Do women who live together menstruate together?

The claim that women who live together  have synchronised menstrual cycles has been the subject of much debate ever since it was introduced roughly 40 years ago by Martha McClintock, an American researcher. After comparing data of women who spent a lot of time together McClintock found that the gap between the menstrual onset dates decreased over one year for women who spent most of their time together. However counter- researchers have claimed that since women have persistent cycles of different lengths, their cycles can never truly synchronise. What happens is their cycles randomly phase in and out of synchrony and there is no evidence to support the synchrony claim.
The research continues.

Blast from my past: Risk and a verse

Back when I was in high school I dabbled in verse because I was bored. The education system was so intent on theory and rote learning, while I prefer something more fun, exploratory and practical.

I doodled all over my notebook instead of taking down notes, before I discovered a different way to daydream - by writing verse. My mother came across my collection and was shocked because (I guess) I had composed something a bit more grown-up than she would have expected. I stumbled on her reading it, and cursed myself for not hiding my notebooks in a safer place, but it was too late. She asked me: Is this what they teach you at school? And of course I had no answer, as I fidgeted uneasily and avoided her eyes.

I continued to compose verses till I completed school and a while longer thereafter. And that practice in writing random verses was not in vain because it won me a few Canadian dollars four years after I left high school.

Below is the winning entry in the text category of the 2008 YAHAnet's contest on risk and HIV/AIDS.

The poem illustrates that a person will engage in a behaviour which they know puts them at risk, because they are getting some sort of payoff (reward) for engaging in that behaviour. This perceived reward ensures that the person persists in a behaviour which they know has negative and unwanted consequences for them. For instance, in this poem, a girl has a boyfriend who has multiple sexual partners.The girl goes ahead to have unprotected sex with him, even though she is aware of the risk (of getting HIV) involved. She persists in this risky behaviour because she values the feeling of love she gets from this relationship so greatly, that it becomes the payoff that sustains her risky behaviour.

The verse was inspired by Dr Phil. I had just read one of his books.

PS- I do not consider myself a poet.

Deadly Payoffs: Why I Risk It

Dear auntie, when you sat me down

And told me to be careful in my relations with men

I knew you did it out of love

Don't get me wrong, I listened

And took in all you had to say

But auntie, I did not have a boyfriend then

So I thought, "It's so easy to be safe."

Dear auntie, I was so lonely

O how I longed to be loved by a man

Then he came into my life

And swept me right off my feet

I remembered your advice

And vowed to keep myself safe

But I did not know I would fall so deep in love

So I said, "I'll be safe, It's so easy"

Dear auntie he treats me so well

I feel like a princess, a star

And then came the moment

He asked me to have sex

I did not know his status, neither he mine

But it felt so natural, so safe

Even without protection

The only risk on my mind was

"Would I get pregnant?"

Dear auntie, he has three other girlfriends

I found their photos, and some used condoms at his house

I felt uneasy, could I be at risk?

And when I confronted him, he assured me

Nothing to worry about

We still do it unprotected

I wonder, "Am I really at risk?"

Dear auntie, they teach us all about HIV

In school, on tv and on the radio

Why then, do I not make good choices

To keep me safe from HIV

Auntie, I've never felt so loved before

And I do not want to lose his love

So even with all I know, I still put myself at risk

http://yahanet.org/gallery/written/271

Give me a clean needle for my vice

Burying one's head in the sand must be the most comfortable thing to do.

How else would anyone explain, the constant refusal to deal with issues that won't go away unless someone deals with them realistically? 

But it is so much easier to act like they do not exist. After all, some of these issues do not quite affect us - at least not directly.

Like the drug problem.

Once in a while a sordid television documentary shows us dazed zombies in drug abuse hot- spots. They speak of living in a self-inflicted hell that they cannot get out of; and tell of the careless risks they take to get money to feed their drug habit, without which their lives would be incomplete. And as they share the spoils of violent robberies, the needles, the blood, the high - they also share the virus.

 

Since most of us still have hearts, we are moved into wordy protests by the helplessness of the drug abuse victims.

“The drug lords are well-known and should be arrested!” we bay for blood, before we resign to fate as we realize that it is a complex affair; and slowly slide back to our relatively drug-free existence.

But for public health officials, drug users, particularly those who inject drugs, pose a big problem in their efforts to control the spread of HIV.

A report by three UN organisations  indicated that HIV prevalence among injecting drug users in Kenya was at 21 per cent. In Nairobi an estimated one in three injecting drug users are infected with HIV.

As they share needles, and possibly infected blood, they are not only a risk unto themselves, but also to the general population.

Thus, this is a group we cannot afford to ignore as we talk about getting to zero new infections. Remember the promise? 

It is against this backdrop that Kenya will join 82 other countries, worldwide, that have needle exchange programmes. The programme will be rolled out in Nairobi and Mombasa this month, and targets 49,000 injecting drug users. 

In needle exchange programmes, injecting drug users are provided with clean/sterile needles and syringes, and safe disposal of used syringes; to reduce sharing of needles and the spread of HIV, Hepatitis C and other blood-borne diseases.

Moreover, needle exchange programmes are not just about providing clean needles, they also provide an opportunity for drug users to learn about safe injection practices and disposal, safe sex and get referral for therapy, rehabilitation and treatment.

The evidence speaks for itself in countries that have adopted this kind of programme.

According to avert.org  a 1997 study carried out in 81 cities worldwide, found that HIV infection rates increased by 5.9 per cent in 52 cities without a needle exchange programme. The study published in The Lancet also found that the infection rate decreased by 5.8 per year in the 29 cities that had a needle exchange programme.

Moreover, in a ten-year study of injecting drug users in New York, HIV prevalence fell from 54 to 13 per cent following the introduction of needle exchange programmes.

However, needle exchange programmes are controversy-rousing affairs. Should government (taxes) fund programmes to give people who are self-destructing clean needles?

It is no different in Kenya, where as soon as the plan (funded by the Global Fund) was announced, opposition against it began. Many have claimed that it will only escalate the drug problem and attract new users.

It could also be argued that those who get HIV in the course of using drugs are reaping the sins of drug abuse and the risks that come with it. But at what cost to the public health system?

It seems those who are against the programme, are seeing this from one narrow angle. 

I remember a Daily Nation feature by Arthur Okwemba in March, where religious leaders were quoted saying that they regretted their previous approach to fighting HIV, after realising that using a moral lens just did not work.

They realised, 27 years after HIV was first diagnosed in Kenya, that their method contributed to among other things silence, denial, inaction and mis-action, and undermined national HIV prevention, treatment and care efforts.

According to the 2008 Kenya Aids Indicator Survey, 100,000 people are infected with HIV every year. 

While married people account for the highest rate of new infections at 44 per cent; Drug users specifically account for 3.8 per cent of the new infections.

Sharing needles among drug abusers is a major HIV transmission route. So what better way to reduce this transmission among drug users who cannot drop the habit, than needle replacement programmes that provide them with sterile needles and remove contaminated needles from circulation?

Anyone who is committed to promoting safer practices and to zero new infections, would support any programme that will help reach that mark sooner rather than later.

It is probably more expensive to treat a person living with HIV than it is to provide free needles.

You may not agree with all the interventions to fight the virus, but if something works, we should embrace it.

The Catholic Church had, for a long time, been opposed to the use of condoms, but last year in a book by Peter Seewald titled: Light of the World: The Pope, the Church and the Signs of the Times, Pope Benedict XVI hinted at a change in stance. He said contraceptives could be used in exceptional circumstances to reduce infections among certain groups.

What about you? Are you going to be part of the problem, or are you going to support a solution?

One Day I Will Write

Lately I've had episodes of wisdom and flashes of enlightenment that have me thinking it would be a good time to start writing my memoirs.

An apt title would be One Day I Will Write About This Place but Binyavanga Wainaina beat me to it with his critically acclaimed memoir. Though I have not read the book yet, the title alone is enough to get me interested. It has a nice nostalgic ring to it; the kind of nostalgia that would give me a literary high.

The East African edition published by Kwani Trust, is being launched in two days and I am already expectant.

I have read a few autobiographies and certainly The Long Walk To Freedom by Nelson Mandela left an indelible mark. But as I mentioned at the beginning, this year I have experienced events that have challenged me to shift from a memoir reader to a memoir writer.

It began in March. It was a dark month that I would rather sweep under the carpet and act as if it never happened. But something tells me that the March story has to be told at some point.

Now that I mention it, it began way before the third month, with events that lined up like stars to decide my fate. It was a steady downward spiral, sprinkled with an assuming attitude that saw me admitted to hospital.

Yeah, apart from giving me three days experience in a hospital bed, and wishing every moment that this was not happening. I met a loving, but sick mother of another young lady like myself and her words got me thinking. I got a reassurance of friendship and that of a mother's love, that would require a lengthy tribute in itself. If I have never appreciated my mother, that is when I truly understood the turmoil of motherhood and the love that tempers it.

That is a story I tell in bits because I am not ready to tell it fully. But one day I am going to write about it. I have bookmarked it in my mind and I will tell that story fully because I know it will be a balm to another person.

Reflecting on this makes me understand why, many times, the subjects of my writings want to hold back on sharing painful memories. No one wants to open wounds and shout to the world that they  were less than perfect, but the thing is that when you do, the healing begins.

Sentimental stuff is made of this, but what is life without a dose of crazy?

In my memoir I will write about dating con artists. For a person who could easily be awarded an honorary diploma in relationship expertise, by virtue of my work, I have had my fair share of hilarious drama in that area. I'm not sure where to start without breaking into endless laughter, so I'll save it for the memoir.

There are so many other stories of struggle, of triumph and defeat; comedies, epics, dramas and running over. It will make a thick book to tell this story.

Everyone has a story, which when shared will touch another life by way of entertainment, growth and in many other ways. Those who tell their stories find meaning and healing.

This is my story, what's yours?

When we died of thirst

Growing up on the slopes of Mount Kenya, where streams of pure water flow against smooth pebbles and sand, water was never an issue.

There was so much water to take for granted, especially as we splashed around in it, and disturbed the quiet life of water beetles in the process.

Of course at a certain age, girls began to hunt for water beetles. Myth had it that if you put a water beetle to your chest and it happened to bite in the right place, that place would blossom to the envy of flat-chested pre-teen girls.

I have never been one to subject myself to unnecessary pain and I opted to let the beetles be and let nature take it's course. It eventually did.

Back to the water.

With so much water around us, to do with as we pleased, it pained me to watch documentaries of young girls in arid lands, girls my age, living in the same country as I - and yet having to struggle so much for water while I played. Girls with sunken eyes and parched lips.

It touched my heart then, but little did I know that I would soon be facing water problems, though not at the scale that the parched sections of the country faced.

As I grew, so did global warming. Words like climate change became frequent in the conversations I heard. Moreover, having moved from the slopes, the reality of dry taps struck me in the face.

The water sector had by now been privatised to make the service more efficient, but as the sector changed from public to private hands, things did not just remain the same, they got worse. (What did we expect when we don't expand infrastructure to cater for the growing population?)

I had never known a scenario where you had to wait for days to get clean water flowing from the tap. But at least the water company 'gave' us water three days a week and slapped us with a regular bill every end of the month.

Recently, I had stories of frogs flowing from taps - but that is something I would not want to get into.

There are places I lived, where we had to wait up for water to the wee hours and when it came, it was a trickle that was to be shared by all the neighbours queued with their containers - from the smallest cup to the largest tank. Woe unto you if the water ran out before your turn to fetch came along.

Nowadays, water issues are a normal part of life, so when we mark World Water Day and think of sustainable ways to fix our water problems, I know where the shoe pinches.

However, I cannot claim to have walked tens of kilometres to get the precious life-sustaining liquid. On the rare occasion that the water company withholds water for more than a week, there are numerous water vendors that save us from the long walk and deliver it to our doorsteps.

We can't live without it, we need to preserve and protect our catchment areas - our water towers.  We need to use and re-use it sustainably. We need to sober up and deal with this. If we do not, we will surely die of thirst.

AOB.

1. I appeal to the water company to provide water to the Public Service Vehicle crews at least twice a week. A trip to anywhere next to a smelly, unwashed person can be rather unnerving. Sweating on a hot day doesn't mean that your body has self-cleaned - go take a bath!

2. The irony of our drinking water supplier in denying us water without notice, on World Water Day, so that we can stand in solidarity with those who lack water. We should be given adequate notice next time.

3. Is it only in Kenya where the landlord rations water? He gags it during the day, complains that you have too many guests who use gallons of water to flush the loo, and generally polices your water use like a maniac. You have to apply to use water for every little thing. Surely, we are more responsible than that now - especially after realizing how endangered the liquid is.

4. Who follows that advice about taking eight glasses a day consistently? It is good for you, but we all know that we seldom do what the doctor ordered, unless it becomes a matter of life or death.

Forty days: putting a number to it

There was a time when time was simple.

There was only time to get up, to take porridge, to take a bath, to nap, to eat, to play and then sleep in a cycle that rolled over. 

But that was before school came in and smashed this principle of time being an endless stretch to infinity.

It was there that time morphed into a concrete 24 hours to each day. And boy did it drag on. The years ahead seemed so far off.  Improbable events. But time chipped away at the long years and before I knew it school was over and then time got wings and flew.

I have lived over 8000 days in my life. So what does a couple of days – make that 40 – matter to anyone on the background of so many others?  It does when you number your days publicly. Because countdowns are usually about D-day when something significant will happen.

And naturally, those who know about the countdown want to know what D-day is all about. I'll tell you what it was not about.

No it was not about eloping, or making a career change or even having a baby.

It would probably take me more than forty days to do any of those things, though when I started out, I would have imagined those events probable in the span of such a long period. Forty seemed like this huge number and I felt fatigued just thinking about how I would trudge through the days.

How wrong I was.

The first ten days got tougher with each rising sun, but I knew backing out was not an option and I knew from previous experience that it gets easier, then worsens and then it’s over.

It was very much like rehab, with slips and falls, and rising up to do it again and eventually I got to day one.

It has been a couple of days since D-day, and the curious ones still want to hold me to account.

This is not the tell-all kind of tale, dripping with juice and mystery that has  listeners hanging onto every word. 

It was rehab and bootcamp all rolled into one. What-about I cannot tell because it has little to do with anyone else but me.

What I am saying is that numbering your days can help you become more aware and more focused towards a change you want to bring about, or more ready for something you are looking forward to.

Numbering your days will help you shed old skin, acquire new ways or build that exhilarating anticipation to the eventual big day when you toast to D-day. Go ahead and try it.