Being a Kenyan over the last few years has been nothing short of a ceaseless mental and emotional torture.
I swear, being Kenyan corrupts you. It’s like a pair of shears cutting through your moral fabric each and every day. Your spirit is in constant moral decay, and you feel parts of you getting lost. The innocence is gone. You’re dirty! You’re dirty! and your mind and your soul is filled with filth. And your pastor, God bless his soul, cannot help you because he is stained as well.
He’s dirty, you’re dirty, our kids are dirty, our home managers are dirty, our bankers are dirty, our teachers are dirty, the environmentalists are dirty, our doctors are dirty, our musicians are dirty, our policemen are dirty, our farmers are dirty….our mums, our dads, they are dirty too.
Our moral police is filth incarnate!
We are all stained!
You are constantly unhappy; constantly complaining, but the source of your unhappiness is so far from you; it’s much bigger than you and you cannot touch it; you cannot solve it.
You see it in the newspaper every day, and you hear it over the radio, but what can you do except bury your head in the sand and try to push your miserable life along? When will this sordid existence end? You could try to pray, but you know you’re stained, and you do not feel worthy. Do Kenyan prayers really reach heaven? It sure doesn’t feel like it.
It surrounds you, it engulfs you; it suffocates you, and you’re dying inside. You scream but no one is listening. It’s like no one cares. They are blaming for your predicament, like, how stupid could you be to put yourself in this situation?
Yes. Everyone else is laughing at you, pointing at you, jeering at you. Wondering what the hell were you thinking? Why weren’t you smart enough to know that you were entering this big, big, big-ass hole? How dumb are you?
It feels commensurate to being that naive girl who doesn’t see past the charms and the lies of the middle-aged neighborhood fuck-boy. You know the ones I am talking about; mmmh, they are everywhere.
So, here we are, the naive girl getting fucked over and over and over again by someone who will never treat us like humans; he will never see us as people. All we will ever be to him is a bitch to lay. And he’s doing it raw people, he’s doing it raw! To make matters worse, we are feeding him and clothing him. Funding his very existence!!
And, he has convinced you it’s fun when his friends join in, and that he likes to watch. And there you are, pining away over this mediocre dick, thinking he is God’s gift to women. Who cursed us? Who really cursed us?
He doesn’t care about our dreams, our aspirations, or where we want to be in 2030. He and his cronies promised you the good life with lots of wine and fine dining. Do you remember how they promised the moon, and good roads, and good hospitals, better trade, better healthcare, better sex?
Or is your mind so far gone right now that you cannot remember that part, the good days? The days he was trying to woo you, and he made you feel like you were the rarest, most beautiful thing on this planet?
Well, it’s been a couple of years now and so far none of those promises have come true. All he does is keep fucking you and you keep buying his tripe. Why? Well, maybe you’re delusional, like most other naive girls. It could also have something to do with the fact that your self-esteem is in the gutter because your parents told you that you were worthless, you were an ingrate, you are lazy, entitled, and don’t know the meaning of real work.
It could also be because you have only been messing around with old men since 63, and you think this band of fuckboys is legitimate and a step-up from what you are used to.
Being Kenyan is not healthy, and it has not been for a long time.
Being Kenyan is wrong!
Being Kenyan is a punishment, and some of us were born just the other day, and we do not know what we are being punished for.
Wait, I know. I know what we are being punished for. Generational mistakes, for sure. From the time of our grandparents and great-grandparents, each generation has had a dalliance with this kind of nonsense and no one batted an eye. None of these generations had the balls to walk out of these sexually ungratifying, money sucking innuendos.
Sooner or later, we are going to get pregnant like the generations before us, and we are going to be forced to see this pregnancy through. When these babies come, it won’t be a celebratory moment. They will not be children, these ones.
Nope, the ones coming after us are going to be MONSTERS! Monsters that we helped create because we were afraid. Too dumb and too afraid to grab that niggah by the balls and tell him to get out of our goddamn house and our goddamn lives.
Yap. that is what it means to be Kenyan in 2018. Getting fucked, raw, over and over and over again, by a middle-aged, unemployed, illiterate, foul-smelling, cheap liquor drinking, hair-receding fuck boy whose in and out in three minutes. And, don’t forget about his cronies, they are in this too.
Let’s be honest. We have no future, we have no souls. They have taken everything; everything we worked for, everything we believed in. And now, we are their slaves, and our children will be slaves, and our children’s children will be slaves. There is no end. This is Kenya!