Dear President Uhuru Kenyatta,
I would’ve begun by going straight to the point, but some Cabinet secretaries have lately been advocating the return of corporal punishment for children with bad manners, and I wouldn’t want to be among the guinea pigs who haven’t been asking you how you’re doing.
While we aren’t sure about the overall state of your wellbeing, we can trust your advice on how to sleep soundly at night, as you’ve lately been giving us hints on who not to trust with the safety of our dreams when we go to the polls next year.
Mr President, tomorrow you’ll be stepping out for your last Jamhuri Day event as the President of Kenya.
While we’d love to congratulate you for keeping us guessing on the content of your speech, it’s our sincere hope the palpable curiosity will match our collective expectations, because the last time you were in Parliament for the State of the Nation address, we saw those in attendance yawning from both sides of their mouths; and it wasn’t because they were in solidarity with victims of drought and famine who haven’t been eating well.
For nine years straight you’ve successfully proven to the Kenyan public that you can effortlessly read a long speech to save your life, if it ever came to that.
Peace of mind
We won’t deny you another moment to compete with the sun tomorrow, since not many Kenyans have completed development projects after peeling away from partners with negative energy and embracing their new selves.
If it helps to encourage Kenyans that their peace of mind is much more valuable than low-hanging public money, we shall be clapping for you all the way tomorrow; hoping you’ll also clap for us when it’s our turn to give testimony on the goodness of the Lord.
Mr President, we’re aware you’ll have a lot to say tomorrow to a restless public struggling to find food for their children who’re on their way back from setting their schools on fire.
For tomorrow’s occasion, we ask that you focus only on the things you’ve never told us before, not only because our memory is currently running out of battery, but we’re also currently too broke to pay attention.
We hope no one in your Cabinet has lied to you that what occurred in Mwingi last week was an accident.
Your government has been promising to build that bridge since 2019, but no one bothered to follow up because in this country things only work when public officials are forced to camp at their field stations and literally sleep on the job.
Debt of gratitude
Mr President, we don’t know what happened to the days you used to keep your ministers on their toes and was mindful of those who weren’t born with any spoon in their mouths.
If corruption doesn’t kill us, government neglect will.
There’s a mine that collapsed and buried workers in Siaya County and for seven days the locals waited for your office to send them vibes and Inshallah in vain. Had their relatives not begged Jesus to inform his Father to quickly intervene, the locals would now have been receiving government delegations carrying crocodile tears and bat urine seeking for forgiveness.
Mr President, these are the issues we’d like you to address in your speech tomorrow.
A majority of Kenyans just want to feed their families and be home early for their CBC homework. All they ask for is a little empathy towards those who weren’t blessed with sticky hands and access to the government’s pot of gold.
Mr President, please come out and be in solidarity with those who have no money to repay your debt of gratitude. BY DAILY NATION