In Kenya, it is ‘humility’ that counts, not ethics

That false humility is valued in Kenya more than honesty or integrity shows how shallow we are as a people. GRAPHIC | FILE

What you need to know:

  • That false humility is valued in Kenya more than honesty or integrity shows how shallow we are as a people.
  • Newsflash, ladies and gentlemen, you’re getting played every day by these people you consider humble because they know you consider that the greatest ideal. They rape your children, loot your taxes and ride roughshod over your laws but you allow it because their false humility blinds you.
  • I have seen genuinely horrible people hailed as down-to-earth by those under their spell, thanks to some fake simplicity. I have also seen upright individuals personally known to me denigrated as conceited, simply because they spoke their minds.

Kenyans love to remind whoever cares to listen that pride becomes before a fall.

Anyone with a hint of haughtiness, real or imagined, is quickly cut down to size with that one-size-fits-all putdown. You might steal billions of shillings from poor taxpayers but as long as you serve in church on Sunday, all is forgiven.

The clergy will embrace you and the congregation will applaud when you arrive because they secretly aspire to be like you: fabulously wealthy yet still seemingly available enough to mix with the rat-faced poor people at social functions.

It is a peculiar phenomenon in Kenya that has baffled me since I started out in journalism when I was just 18 and broke into TV at 20. People in positions of power or authority, but who also perform humility for “likes” on social media and fawning coverage by journalists are some of the most popular with the masses.

If you think you have to be modest to join this club of the beloved, dismiss such nonsense immediately because it is much simpler than you thought. Kenyans don’t really expect you to walk the talk, they just want you to pretend when you’re likely to be seen or photographed and they will be fine. They will extoll your virtues to anyone who cares to listen and fill your stage-managed social posts with plenty of love.

“Learn to be humble and the Lord will lift you up,” someone told me last week after I announced that I was leaving the show I have hosted for the last four-and-a-half years. If I had a shilling for every time I was told that, I would be a billionaire by now. I’m always amused when some stranger on the Internet advises me as much because they don’t know what I’ve had to overcome to get here.

HORRIBLE PEOPLE

For a child who had major self-esteem issues, I sometimes struggle to figure out how I ended up in a highly visible, public-facing role. Had I remained the socially awkward, moderately shy teenager I was when I joined Form One, I would have ended up a quiet computer technician, not a television journalist.

I don’t know how I built enough confidence over the last decade-and-a half to end up here but it saved my life. It is only after I put in all that work that I discovered that Kenyans don’t appreciate confidence because it challenges them and makes them uncomfortable. We prefer to be deferential to the point of weakness so that we’re not considered arrogant.

Even if you have had to unlearn all your fears and become comfortable enough  in your skin to venture out into public life, you must never be  self-assured or you’ll be dismissed as proud or rude. I’m not sure how much of the Kenyan obsequiousness is traceable to our British influences, but do you wonder why our politicians are such world-class sycophants to their masters?

They are also the best at affecting humility when it serves them and they need to get votes. Just because your elected representative whose source of wealth remains questionable accompanies you to a protest or a bullfight does not make them Mother Teresa. That false humility is valued in Kenya more than honesty or integrity shows how shallow we are as a people.

Token moments of pretence are given more  high praise than a lifetime of bad behaviour. I read one of Chinua Achebe’s best books, A Man of the People, in high school literature class and there’s a quote that stayed with me: “For what is modesty but inverted pride? We all think we are first-class people. Modesty forbids us from saying so ourselves, though presumably, not from wanting to hear it from others.”

I have seen genuinely horrible people hailed as down-to-earth by those under their spell, thanks to some fake simplicity. I have also seen upright individuals personally known to me denigrated as conceited, simply because they spoke their minds. Kenyans live in mortal fear of anyone who is unguarded in their speech, who isn’t afraid to step on toes with unpopular opinions and who speaks their truth boldly. We prefer that everyone sugarcoat what they have to say so we’re not egotistic and tune out.

Newsflash, ladies and gentlemen, you’re getting played every day by these people you consider humble because they know you consider that the greatest ideal. They rape your children, loot your taxes and ride roughshod over your laws but you allow it because their false humility blinds you. When those who know better and see through their ruse call them out, you ignore them because they’re not “respectful”, whatever that means. Some of us had to learn to speak up and we won’t stop because we’re not humble enough for you; deal with it.

***** 

LION OF MUTHURWA

It’s V. Wanyama St in Tanzania

It was an extraordinary weekend for Victor Wanyama, the Kenyan international.

While on holiday in Tanzania, he had the district of Ubungo name a road after him. It was on the first anniversary of his signing for English side Tottenham Hotspur. On Friday night, he had won the Sports Personality of the Year at the Social Media Awards. Sunday was his 26th birthday, capping a truly great few days for “the Lion of Muthurwa”.

But on Sunday, the road sign was removed because the right procedure was allegedly not followed. That is surprising because a citation accompanying the naming of the road was signed by two senior officials of Ubungo Municipality, Aman Sizya and Yahaya Rashidi.

Either way, the irony was not lost on anybody that Tanzania was honouring a Kenyan superstar before his home country had done anything.

As I have said before in this column, Wanyama is one of the hardest working and driven people I have ever met. He is also a passionate supporter of football talent and has done a lot for the community that raised him. He is exactly the kind of man to spend his birthday playing and sharing a meal with disadvantaged children at the Thunder Football Academy in Kawangware.

****** 

MOBILE BREAK

You can survive a day without a phone!

I’m one of the few unlucky people who work on Sundays while the rest of you power down and spend time with your families.

Because I like to have an efficient day, I’ve learnt to break it down into parts, with specific tasks. As I got into church last Sunday, it hit me that I had forgotten my phone at home. I briefly considered going back home to grab it before heading to work but there was no time before I had to anchor the 1pm news.

After the said broadcast, I discarded any plans to reunite with my phone and decided to spend the day out of touch. It was oddly fitting as Pastor Kevin Nderitu’s sermon had partly decried how attached we had become to these devices.

I’m happy to report that I survived the whole day and even when I got home, didn’t check the phone until 11pm. I should try that for a week! 

_________ 

I agree with your sentiments on the on the 11th Parliament. Indeed, leaders should  be role models for the people under them but our political leaders are an exception. On several occasions the 11th Parliament shamelessly did things with impunity at the expense of the taxpayer. They changed laws for their own benefit, in total disregard for the poor citizens. They spent public funds on useless trips, non-existent development projects, name it.  These leaders’ integrity was up for sale, so they did not even deserve the title “honourable.”

This should be a challenge to us Kenyans because we elected  them to represent us but what did we get in return?

Kenyans must wake up and elect sober leaders, people of integrity with the country’s future at heart.

Irene

***** 

Larry, while travelling by matatu recently, a cop hopped in, sat next to me  — I was sitting next to the driver — and asked whether I worked in the media. When I answered in the negative, he  shamelessly took a bribe from the driver and then alighted.

“You see why I always like all the seats in this compartment occupied?” the driver said as the cop walked away. We all ask why our politicians are greedy and corrupt, but maybe should examine why our society produces such people. Corruption has been mainstreamed and we’re all involved. Only the media scare us. The end of one-party rule and the advent of devolution turned out not to be the panacea Kenyans had hoped for. We need an established mechanism for  ranking politicians based on their performance. One initiative that has been trying to do this for some time now is mzalendo.com. It provides the latest information on every member of Parliament and their performance. Ensuring this information is more easily available could significantly change how the electorate arrives at decisions. But corruption is deeply entrenched in our culture, and it will take more than an app to uproot it.

Jimmy Bogonko