How we lost our conscience as a people

"The voice of conscience is so delicate that it is easy to stifle it; but it is also so clear that it is impossible to mistake”.

These words written by French writer Madame de Stael, centuries ago, are still relevant to anyone examining the decay in our society.

It is this consciousness or awareness that makes us different from the cows, goats, and the chickens we keep in our homes.

This is the element that, for instance, reminds us that it is proper to cover our nakedness in public; the element that helps us determine the difference between right and wrong.

When we read, hear or see the looting by those we have entrusted with the management of the cattle dip back in our village, or in the multi-million scandals in government departments, we feel outraged.

That outrage is caused by “that delicate voice of conscience”.

TELLING LIES

What is strange is that in many cases, this feeling is lost when we commit these ruinous acts or when they are committed by people we are related to, or those from our ethnic community.

In a recent ride on a 14-seater matatu from Thika to Nairobi, a distance of 40km, I overheard several people lying blatantly on the phone about the progress of their journey.

It was approaching 9am and we had just left Thika when  one woman told whoever she was talking to on the phone that she was held up in traffic at the Globe Cinema roundabout near Nairobi city centre.

I counted up to six the number of people who told lies in the duration of this short journey from Thika.

If I add those who engaged in these practices through SMS, WhatApp, Telegram and all the other new-age applications that are used for communication, the numbers are likely rise.

If I heard more than half of the 14 passengers in the matatu tell lies in that short ride from Thika to Nairobi, it demonstrates how stifled the voice of conscience of many Kenyans is.

The problem is that the eight or so liars are part of the Kenyans complaining loudly over the ills we witness daily.

NEW GOVERNMENT

As we wait for a new start with the re-elected government, let us assess our ability to listen to this “delicate voice” in our day-to-day affairs by answering the following easy questions.

• Have you given the parking attendant in Nairobi or in any other town a fraction of what you should have officially paid and forgone the official receipt?

• Do you make supplies or offer services to the government, the county government, or any other organisation and include a small percentage in your invoice as a kick back?  

• Do you buckle up when the vehicle you are driving or in is stopped by a traffic officer checking if you have put on the safety belt?

• Are you a procurement officer who demands chai (bribe) for any tender award?

• Are you one of the “magicians” in the lands office or in one of our courts who can make a file disappear and appear?

• Are you a worried headmaster or a teacher in a school whose performance might drop drastically this year because the education authorities have plugged all examination leakages?

• Is the half kilo sugar package on the shelf of your kiosk really half kilo or did you remove a few spoons that your customers will not notice while weighing? Is the milk you supply 100per cent pure or is half of it tap water?

• If you are a mechanic or a technician undertaking repairs, do you — when possible — put back the same old spare part in the car, TV, computer, phone and charged for a new one?

• While in a traffic jam, are you happy when the driver of the matatu you are using follows the path created by an ambulance in complete disregard of the traffic rules?

• Were you one of my fellow passengers who told lies in my journey to Nairobi?

If your answer to any of these questions is “yes”, please note that you are one of the contributors to the ills we are facing in our society. That obviously means the end of these ills in Kenya must start with you.

Mr Maina is a writer and businessman [email protected]