Oped:Nineteen Months Later, A Diasporan’s Tale!

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Oped:Nineteen Months Later, A Diasporan’s Tale!

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Some Kenyans in the Diaspora at a formal sports awards gathering in Boston,Massachusetts Pic|Sam Mwaura|Samrack Media

Oped:Nineteen Months Later, A Diasporan’s Tale!

Basking from my little ragged lawn, standing on dusty terrains
Mercilessly barbered with slashers and machetes
I watch the horizon with a sense of nolstagia
Over a cascade of overgrown acacia, an aroma of Kileleleshwa
Tingling my once polluted nostrils, having been sandwiched between three Interstates
As they circle and land on my balded head, I thank God for being here at home
Having time for everything, even time to idle

As the sun reluctantly goes to sleep, telling me goodbye until tomorrow
Over the sprawling ranges across the western hemispheres
Sets of migrating birds forms colorful galaxies
Scribbling my name across the bluish-cloudy sky
Like they knew I was am eagerly watching
And trailing their spectacular constillation
Shadowing the village that pretends, to never known me

As the legendly KBC’s Radio “Sundowner,” release its barrades
I nolstagically taps on my dusty floor, whistling some melodies I once knew
As the music of Crystal Gaye, Billy Ocean, Bellamy Brothers
Charlie Pride, Kenny Rogers and Keith Diamond
Toto Band, Nana Mouskori and Phil Collins
Echoes from salivating twin woofers, banging on my newly crafted ceiling
Am relieved from toils of doubles with no end in sight
I cry for America and the world at large
Recalling my colleagues who were blacks, white trash, Latinos and immigrants
Their everyday struggles with poor pay and benefits
Working doubles to make a better life, living from paycheck to paycheck for ever
Fearing the KKK resurgence and racist Republicans
Sceptical that Trump, will bury them under

Trump will no doubt, change the whole world order

Fundamental rights of the Latinos, Blacks, and immigrants
Will be trumped and tramped from here there on
But the Almighty will stop and  let it not happen

Those Kenyans who hated their Motherland, with delived passion
Let me tell you something, right here right now
Trump might not be allowed, by American laws
To bring up chaos, from NAFTA, deportations and walls
With 800,000 immigrants, deported during Obama’s administration
Imagine what Trump might do, his lack of apathy…a universal reject

It will never “hurt” you people, if you own something in Jamhuri
For those who think they have time, to work for something but nothing
For those who still think, payments for cars and mortgages
Drowning  in credit cards and useless loans, to develop America
He will get at anything to use his Twitter account
If the going gets tough, have your plan B around you

Kenya is a tribal world, look at all these tribals
Raila Uhuru and Kalonzo, Wetangula Ruto and Joho
Ganging up their tribes, to create voting blocks
All architect of lootings and numerous scandles
That is why I will never vote, your vote too is that useless
We have many poor people, and young drunkards everywhere
Who will sell their own votes, for Sh200 and even less

On many of my previous blogs, seven or eight months ago
I beseeched many Kenyans in diaspora, to buy buy and buy
Explaining that home will always be home
But many called me nuts, talking ill about Kenya
Preparing yourself was valid then, but then its never too late
Trump policies are never good for anybody, even for its own citizens
But mine was a clarion call, because American economy has always been fake

The eruption of deseases, from cancer to diabetis
Heart ailments, athritis to other terminal deseases
Is a reality that is wiping out our population
A population that lives on peanuts, for their everyday lives
As leaders steal their billions and get away with it
Driving in gas-gustlers and living in the Karen suburbs
Wondering who is in charge, in this beautiful country of ours

With elections now, smelling around the corner
The same thieves are trumpeting, some hateful ethnic rhetorics
Grouping up as tribes, rather than as Kenyans seeking for votes
Kenyans are stupidly stupid, they never vote for their issues
Yet they are now starving, calling for “Serikali Saidia”
Should I cast a lone vote, amongst many who have been paid?
Only time will tell, a few months to decision time

Here at home, I relive my life like an anxious archaeologist
Reconstructing every step I ever made
From working odd hours as nights faded away
Fearful of an awful, dramatic tumble
From the smell of success, joblessness, or bells of homelessness
Coiling around loneliness, and being married to my job
Panicking on every mention, of downsizing or lay-offs

Kenyans are enterprising, like dens of bee-hives
Selling you stuff, barely to make a living
And on a market day, at the end of the downtown
Where I hustled three decades ago
Managu, Murenda, and terere
Mapera, quavas and sweet bananas
Still covers the extensive market area

Kenya have grown, by leeps and bound
Too many upcoming buildings, and scattered trading centers
Kenyans wherever they are, have realised one thing
Instead of building from their ancestral homes
Have bought plots in urban areas
Building themselves homes, than never before
A trend that is common, and admirable too

Kenyans are opportunists, in every sense of the word
They are dishonest, con artist and thieves
For a diaspora new in their game
Your vulnebility increases with interaction
Asking for more, even when its less
A culture of greed, exaggerated and tolerated
Leaving you a culpit from your own fault

Diasporan are generous, and foolishly so
Already their own enemies, in dishing out dollars
Wedding committes contribute Sh1500 each
Mourners dish out 100, 200, 400 in Kenyan shillings
Yet you send 200, 1000 or more in US dollars
Then you start crying foul, in everything
Yet its you, who dig graves, for those rare dollars

If you ever plan, or dream of coming home
Take a vacation to meditate, and pray about it
Work out strategies, that suits you best
Prepare your mind, your heart and soul
And put your finances, well and right in advance
Build yourself a home, or even buy one
Living on rented premises, in never a good idea

Never trust your father, brother, sister or a friend
To buy you this, do this, or build you that
You might be lucky, if you ”google” the right one
They will use your dollars, your sweat-stained doubles
To send their kids, to prestigious academies
Or build their homes, with Italian marbles, parallel to your shanty
And even furnish their homes, with furnitures from Malaysia

Kenyans are evil, including those you claim to love
They will smile on the phone, talk nice like Angels
Wait until you relocate, and settle in Jamhuri
You will realize they are moles, or leopards in sheeps skins
Running away from you, once your dollars depletes
They will blow like dust, once your finances evaporates
Your investments on them, leaving a trend of many worries

If you were in the twenties, thirties or forties when you landed in the US
Add some decades or years in America: you are old if you never new that
When you come to Kenya, you may wanna here this
The people you knew, including your agemates
The classmates and neighbors, you once shared a life
Are no longer alive, or are too old to tell
What you  will see,  are their sons, daughters or even grandchildren

Building your own home, many miles away
Doing some businness, oceans and seas away
Is a crazy thing to do, and a stupid way to do it
From my own opinion, buying is better
Or building in stages, everytime you come home
Every Kenyan is a THIEF, Mugabe said it all
All you need to do,or try doing, is allow them to snap

One thing you should know, and even know it right now
Is that those brothers you alleviated, from abject poverty
The folks you showered, sending them to school
The cousins you spoilt, with Moneygram numbers
Squadering all their made-up projects
The uncles and aunties cleared their bills
Are unbelievably mean and shamelessly selfish, once you get here

Beware of diaspora this, and diaspora that
I mean crafty banks, individuals, pastors and institutions
Calling themselves Saccos, and all manner of names
Criss-crossing in Europe, and the entire America
Using the clergy as a bait, like religion really mattters
Tried to visit some in Nairobi and Thika, a few months ago
And the language changed later, once they learned I was a diaspora

One may be wondering, how fair am I fairing
With employment option out, don’t know whats the best for me
Trying the businness option, but trending carefully on it
Businness ventures are flooded, saturated to the brim
Farming projects are risky, and their timing are flimsy
But lucrative rental businness, might be a better choice
Wish one could do it, before you throw in the towels

Every Kenyan you meet, I mean most of them
Are brokers, fraudsters, opportunists and worse
They see diasporans as stupid, money-minters of some sort
Give them some duties, or do some work to you
They will inflate the figures, like you still live abroad
They will spend hours, working on the same spot
And at the end of the day, they want their daily cut

If you ever intend to ship your your loot to Jamhuri
Beware of Kenyan shipping companies
Most are criminals and the Kenyans you know
Search for some mannered credible shippers
Such like DMV Shipping on Mwakilishi.com
Is a bait of arrogance and poor services combined
Ask around in churches and nyama choma parties

Then right now in Jamhuri, almost everybody sing
Not purposely for the Lord, but for the love of money
In weddings, funerals, and on many functions
They will ask for a chance, to just proof their worth
In the midst of them all, even without being judgemental
They lack prestissimos, ritardonds, crescendos or staccatos
Ending up in noises sweetened by instruments that cry out

But how much do you need to survive, once you are in Kenya
It will depend on commitments, expenses and assumed lifestyle
For a parent with school-going kids, at least Ksh100,000 will do
Assuming you got your own home, furnished and well-settled
But that is on the lower side, better if you could get more
For those with modest lifestyle, or merely  a simple life
A sum between 30k and 50k will suffice, only if line three above applies

As I close these strangest stanzas for now, swearing to lie low like an envelop
I ponder with pain the infamous ailing Mpigs, diabetic governors cashing in on anything
Plunderous MCAs Wanjikus now wealthy with loot, amazingly seeking for a re-election
Their necks now part of their bulging tummies
Their ogled eyes protruding from their skulls, you may think they carcases from Olduvai Gorge
Wishing some ailments tracked them down
As Kenyans die of basics, like posho and water

By IdaVethi

Oped:Nineteen Months Later, A Diasporan’s Tale! Reviewed by on March 1, 2017 .

Some Kenyans in the Diaspora at a formal sports awards gathering in Boston,Massachusetts Pic|Sam Mwaura|Samrack Media Oped:Nineteen Months Later, A Diasporan’s Tale! Basking from my little ragged lawn, standing on dusty terrains Mercilessly barbered with slashers and machetes I watch the horizon with a sense of nolstagia Over a cascade of overgrown acacia, an aroma


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