The state of dishonesty in Kenya is perhaps disheartening and maybe deservedly so.This cause of concern mainly driven by the actions
of our security forces at Westgate Mall, where they ‘sanitized’ the mall of its
valuable is indeed called for. It raised questions of the culture of security
operations especially in light of our incursion in Somalia where more ‘sanitization’
might have occurred in the spirit of war bounty which is usually justified by
the theory of ‘I put my life on the line, and this must be recompensed’.
However decrying the whole fiber of the society over
this or similar instances might not be justified after all. George Grebner
developed the Cultivation Theory to explain why TV viewers held the notion that
the world is much worse than it really is. According to him constant consumption
of media products which usually present violent events creates the perception
of a dim world of constant turmoil.
Following the Westgate attack there has been
constant bombarding of viewers with news of the terrorists which might have
informed the author of the article. We are victims of our own entrapment and by
that nature we are predisposed to reminisce about the good old days. Quoth, ‘By the waters of Babylon, where we sat down,
there we wept, when we remembered Zion…’
I can relate with the author, but in the view of my
recent encounters I would like to point out that all has not been lost. Up till
recently I used to think that there are very few people who still thought
courtesy was important in Kenya (like the author). I always remember to say ‘thank
you’ or observe other curtsies that most Kenyans would brush of as “Tanzania”.
However I boarded the Ruiru-Eagle train as I usually
do in most mornings. As most people who use the same means of locomotion would know
getting a seat in the boogies is usually a very are occurrence and when one
passenger alights it’s usually survival for the fittest to occupy the vacated
seat. So on this morning a passenger alighted and a young but tough woman and a
man emerged victorious in scrambling for some two vacated seats. Then to my
surprise the man stood back up and let an old man sit (who had not even
participated in the scramble due to his disadvantage). Then the woman suddenly
stung with guilt or kindness also offered her ‘trophy’ to another old man. I thought
to myself, we are kind but it is somewhere beneath waiting to be discovered.
And this is not a case in isolation. Once when I was
plying the dreaded Thika highway known for its number of brutal deaths at the
hands of speeding cars and careless pedestrians, I saw a matatu tout abandon
his station to help a school child cross the road. Now this is no small matter,
matatu touts are known for their overzealousness for money that nothing not
even impending death can pull them out of their station. But to see some rugged
haggling tout leave his station to help a child cross the road was both moving
and reassuring.
You might find this utterly odd, however, while
walking down the streets of Nairobi with human traffic pushing and flouncing
against each other I witnessed something amazing. A man was holding up the
traffic as people pushed to cross the road and we all nearly bundled over him. A
carter almost shoved him cursing. When the man moved, we discovered to our
shock that he was actually lame. And all those rude gestures turned into self-admonition
and we actually apologized below our breaths, some offering to help him cross
the road.
I agree with him that the old days might have been
full of sunshine and filial piety and love. That today there air is polluted
with dishonesty and acute desire to get the better of others. However this view
can be myopic if we look at the little things that show we still possess the
homely humane, and that celebrating these instances is our only chance of
reviving the good old days
