Rival messed up my State of the Ward address with sugar-coated lies

Monday, November 16th, 2020
Auditorium at the Bomas of Kenya. Photo/PD/Kenna CLAUDE
In summary

Assuming is the root of all disappointments. This saying accurately captures our experience last week. 

As MCAs, we had assumed we were going to meet the Building Bridges Initiative team at the Bomas of Kenya on Friday.

We had prepared our list of demands and irreducible minimums. After all, we held the lock and key for the envisaged referendum. 

We were, therefore, fully prepared for the Bomas meet. Things were made rosier by the fact that we were promised four days’ allowance!

Some MCAs like Matayo had already camped at Nairobi two days before the expected meeting. 

So it was with great disappointment that we received the news of the cancellation of the event, reportedly due to the Covid-19 restrictions.

Hii ni sabotage!” cried MCA Chonjo. “Somebody does not want us to present our views to the BBI.”

“The worst thing is that we have missed the allowances!” added Makayoyo.

I, too, felt dejected. For some strange reason, however, it is during such low moments that bright ideas occur to me. 

“Why not give a State of the Ward address tomorrow to make up for the missed event?” I thought.

Yes, this would be a clever way of showing I was still on top of things despite the disappointment. Convinced this was a bright idea, I set things in motion.

I asked my aide Mokonyonyo, aka Moks, to secure a venue and send invitations to people who matter in my ward.

Another bright idea invaded my mind: Invite my rival, Alfafa to the event. Perhaps you know this fellow whose only ambition in life has been to unseat me. So in the handshake spirit, I sent an invitation to him. 

“I will give you a chance to say a few words,” I told him. 

I knew this would entice him to attend the event. 

I then embarked on preparing my speech. I made sure I listed all the projects I had initiated in my ward, and of course added a few imaginary ones. After all, there would be no chance for anybody to dispute or verify the facts. 

I also made sure I included phrases like capacity building, public participation, people-driven initiatives and paradigm shift.

To avoid controversy, I avoided anything to do with BBI. I was not too sure what my ward residents thought about the whole thing. 

So Saturday afternoon found us in a hall in one of the schools in my ward. Moks had done a good job in preparing the venue.

The turn up was impressive and I felt inspired. I went through my speech to ensure there was no error. An aspiring governor could not afford to give a clumsy speech. 

A short while later, Alfafa arrived. He was accompanied by a retinue of bodyguards. From the way he waved at the gathering, one could mistake him for the MCA.

I made sure he sat right next to me so that everyone could see the spirit of camaraderie between us. 

After the opening prayer, I gave my rival the chance to say a few words. I should have known better.

The man stood and thanked me for the invitation. Then all of a sudden, he went ballistic.

“These MCAs are the most selfish people I have ever seen. It is even good that their meeting at Bomas was cancelled. Do you know the demands they were going to make for the BBI?”

“Nooo,” the gathering answered.

“These people,” he said pointing at me. “These people are others. First, they want to be in total control of the ward development funds.

Then they want something called spouse allowance, ati hiyo pia iwekwe kwa BBI!”

I would not have been worried had the gathering remained silent. But their murmuring unsettled me. 

Halafu, these people want the BBI to make it mandatory for them to go for benchmarking trips abroad every three months. Is that fair?”

“Nooo!” the people responded. This was too much for me to bear. I stood and snatched the microphone from him.

To my horror, the crowd insisted I let him continue speaking. My attempts to tell them he was lying fell on deaf ears. I gave up and handed the mic back to him. 

“Imagine, now they want the BBI to give them Corona pandemic allowance!” continued my tormentor. “Shame on them. We must vote them out”

Waende!” the people said.

This did it. I signalled my aide Moks and we stormed out of the hall, leaving the straight-faced liar with his gullible listeners. Bure kabisa! [email protected]