The “Just Right” Porridge

Hi, my name is Sham and I’m a middle class Kenyan. Yes, I’m introducing myself like it’s at an addictions anonymous group of sorts but perhaps that’s exactly what it is. Allow me to elaborate.

We live in a country where old dogs lie and we wilfully let them. We are taken advantage of at every opportunity by our government with the theoretical and practical application of laws that seem sincerely inept in the grander scheme of things. Poverty is abundant while our politicians drive luxurious cars and live in ostentatious manors. And they can do such things because we don’t do anything about it. We’ve become subservient slaves slathered in superficiality and consumerism. It should be up to the youth of this country to try and change these things not only for us but for future generations to come. Note the use of the word “try” because that is all we can hope to do.

Now when these laws are passed, whether it’s an archaic alcohol bill similar to what was done during the National Prohibition Act in the United States in the early 1900’s, or whether it’s something as outraging as banning homosexuality with the threat of immediate arrest or even whether it’s something as economically unfeasible as increasing the parking rates in town to two hundred and fifty shillings, we all suffer viciously.

However, it is the middle class that suffers these injustices the most. The poor are unfortunately already far too poor for these upheavals in laws to affect them much. The rich are already far too rich for anything to challenge their bourgeoisie status’ much. Now don’t lose your cool, I’m not saying the poor do not already suffer mass discrimination. So I won’t waste time stating the obvious. However, the middle classes, the ones who have self sufficient businesses and oil the wheels of economy, those are the ones who make the bottomless pit-like stomach of our government rumble with hunger. The middle class in this country are the “Just Right” porridge bowl for our government to eat and deplete from. In the Goldilocks mythology, our government would be that age old hag who takes things that don’t belong to her. Now some of you may be saying “Is he really comparing our government to sweet, little Goldilocks?” The answer? Yes. Read the original story of The Three Bears and you may understand my reasoning. And I fear I’m being pretty gentle with the analogy.

The middle classes are used and abused by the perversions of a depraved system but rather than do anything about it, we sit in our houses and shops and offices and we complain in the safety of our comfort zones hiding behind shields of turnover. After all, it’s ingrained into our contemporary philosophy that there’s nothing a bribe cannot take care of and nothing a powerful contact cannot fix. We’ve become a generation of complainers who perpetuate corruption by allowing it to continue. And so I say that we’ve become addicted to this lifestyle. Sometimes accepting injustice is almost as bad as performing it.

And who’s challenging this? Surely not the packs of inebriated alpha male youths and women with freshly painted faces that I see every Friday and Saturday night living lives of cultural and moral decadence in return for a fickle social acceptance? Are these the bastions of our generation? And what exactly can be done in a country where the wheels of the legal system turn so slowly that it’s easier to pay people off? How can we win if we take on the system? Through an artistic and peaceable revolution? Through spreading awareness through mediums such as this one? Or through anarchy? Violence, however, has been tried and tested and deemed a faulty method in Kenya. However, our Tunisian and Egyptian compatriots would feel differently. Must we try Gandhi’s methods of civil disobedience by non-violent means? They can arrest one person for not paying the two hundred and fifty shilling parking fee. But can they arrest a hundred thousand people? So, my question is what next? These are the questions we as the youth of a nation need to try creating answers to instead of “oh, where do we go tonight?” I’m not saying don’t live your lives. I’m simply saying lets do something while we live our lives.

Perhaps you’ll classify me a pessimist who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Or maybe you’ll dismiss me as a hypocritical jester in the court of community. Or perhaps I’m simply quixotic of nature. But maybe these are the very ingredients that are needed to make that old hag choke on that “Just Right” bowl of porridge so she thinks twice the next time she takes a mouthful out of what’s rightfully ours.