ESSAY: My Dream, the Kenyan Dream

The post-election violence anointed me to be a dreamer: to reveal the impediments and hope therein for our country.

I never dreamt that the long existing tribal faults had the potential of punching our country into a tribal and regional Armageddon of a breadth and depth that is beyond wildest imagination. I never dreamt that the tremors from a fluid Kenya would shake the socio-economic foundations of our neighboring countries to a magnitude of paralyzing trade and transportation in Uganda and Tanzania, Rwanda and Burundi, and holding hostage the supply of goods and services in the Northern part of Congo and the Southern part of Sudan.

I never dreamt that our cities, big and small towns will be purged into unprecedented looting of business premises, commuting will become exorbitant and risk as streets and roads turned into battle field of violence. From Turkana to Wetu, Garrisa to Busia fear and anxiety will reign as villages imagine and wonder, as serious shortage of common commodities will follow suit, as the historical violence will worsen. This violence robbed us the epithet we fondly employed to introduce ourselves as a ‘haven of peace’ or ‘island of peace’ as we took the lead in forging peace in war-ravaged neighboring countries.

I never dreamt that humorous antics such as, "I will burn with this country," will came to pass unexpectedly – till the disputed presidential election winner was announced. The fire of violence caught the country, its tentacles and sparks spread fast and vast to consume infrastructure, bringing down institutions of learning, exposing our stifling tribal animosity beneath the philosophy of love, peace, and unity that we’ll be a shamed to proclaim now.

"Our words have a mystical way of fulfilling themselves," says my aged grandmother, "always think before you speak," she advises us. "Remember my counsel whenever there is need to speak, you will never regret." From her wisdom I pause with sorrow and say, "from here the rains started beating us," our leaders haven’t lived to weigh the impact of their words: That words have a potential of fortifying and destroying. For us to pick the pieces from the rubbles of destruction that was registered during the skirmishes we must learn the wisdom: "words are mightier than a nuclear bomb," as my father, testifies.

Our words must spring from truth, lubricated with facts, exercised to harmonize, and filled with inspiration and codes of a new beginning.

I never dreamt that the post-election violence would reveal our hidden, tacit, and ignored historical wounds. But if the price was blood of our beloved one – then it was unaffordable and unacceptable to Kenyans. "It was horrifying to witness my brother’s head chopped off by a group of young people as we were helplessly being raped," a sorrowful voice still echo as it dripped from an International radio station. Trauma, fear, and psychological torture still reigns in the hearts of our people. Thousands lost jobs. Businesses came crumbling down. The displaced persons will remain to be a thorn in the flesh in the Government. Food deficit cannot be over emphasized, coupled with the skyrocketing prices of basic commodities from the inflation rate that has kept an upward trend.

I never dreamt that the 80 percent of Kenyans who profess to be Christians would fail to live up their confession till violence came about. "And now I give you a new commandment: love one another," John the beloved disciple articulates the parting words of Jesus. Did we extend love to our neighbors notwithstanding their tribe with the opportunity offered by crisis? If we use Baraton University grading system, mine will be an F. What about you my fellow folks? We chose to become disciples of our tribes, read from tribal scrolls, and vowed by our tribal gods. But unfortunately we carried all this rituals in various churches – in the name of Jesus.

I have a dream that I need to be born again; to love my neighbor; to treat others as I will wish them to treat me; to preserve and uphold life of another person - for it’s precious as mine - that I treasure to challenge Methuselah’s longevity of 969 years.

I have a dream that the colonial stereotypes blended with our tribal myths, proverbs, and songs, giving prejudice a field day to thrive in successive generations will one day be discarded. And we will come to the realization that the 42 tribes and a mosaic of 60 dialects are like various foods that makes a balanced diet, thus none of the tribe is dispensable.

I have a dream that the Kenyan scholars are better placed to overcome prejudice from the vast knowledge accrued albeit they drowned in tribal cocoons during the violence. Their much-needed acumen never bloomed at time of need. The thread that is weaving our intellectual fabric need to be interlaced with a re-examined curriculum; to meet the dynamic and unexpected challenges into a hopeful and prosperous future.

The gone crisis shocked our foundations, but we were found wanting. Kenya’s dignity was tattered to stand honorably among its peers as before; its diplomatic relations were left frowning to be accorded the revered position of redeeming alliances; its democracy stood questionable to distinguish itself as an example; yes, Kenyan institutions were tested, how will you rate them? Much learning is paramount by listening to other nations; we have proved the need of contextual external intervention to solve Kenyan problems.

I have a dream that there will come a time when we Kenyans will put their confidence in prudent institutions as opposed to trusting individuals, whose only qualification to command their following is that of being a tribe mate. I have a dream that we will one day raise to be counted as a people who dared to support leaders based on their moral stamina, dignity and character content instead of the handouts one can shower us during the campaigning period; yes, stand behind parties on the knowledge of their policies, ideology, and how the party has espoused the aspiration of all Kenyans, other than which tribe the de facto leader is coming from. I have a dream that a defining moment is here to live by the wisdom: a new wine cannot be held in an old wineskin. This is the time to live the dream: to have a people driven constitution, to overhaul our electoral institutions, to fortify the judiciary – that it can be trusted to be a Solomon in its judgment to give the life baby (justice) to its rightful mother (all who deserve it). This would have saved us the agony we have navigated though. This is the time for my dream to come true, for it can no longer linger, it cannot be wished. This is my dream, the Kenyan dream.