Real value of ‘madaraka’ is not the numbers; it is the society we build

School children wave flags during Madaraka Day celebrations at Nyayo Stadium on June 1, 2014. FILE PHOTO |

What you need to know:

  • Everything important was touched on — security, infrastructure, economy, nationalism and patriotism, education, health, government reform, youth empowerment, corruption, and all the other key things on the Jubilee administration’s bucket list.
  • One can tell that different government ministries are simply asked to provide a few paragraphs each on their achievements and programmes and some bored and unimaginative bureaucrat is tasked to stitch everything together.
  • These are the questions we should be asking, the questions that are uncomfortable to those enjoying almost exclusive access to the fruits of freedom simply because they have the right lineage or connections and the foolish ones supporting the regime because they imagine that ethnic or familial ties place them closer to the feeding trough.

That could have been a brilliant, inspiring, uplifting speech President Uhuru Kenyatta delivered on Monday from Nyayo National Stadium.

The Madaraka Day address had all the right ingredients in terms of talking directly to the people, outlining his vision and philosophy, highlighting agenda and priorities, and even celebrating the government’s own milestones.

Everything important was touched on — security, infrastructure, economy, nationalism and patriotism, education, health, government reform, youth empowerment, corruption, and all the other key things on the Jubilee administration’s bucket list.

Yet, somehow it did not quite gel. In the first place, it was way too long. A formal speech running to 4,700 words is just too much to hold people’s attention. The “reader” gets thirsty and tired, and starts to drone on mechanically without much passion, seemingly interested only in finishing. The audience gets tired and bored, and will visibly seek diversions in reading the programme, fiddling with their telephones, studying cloud formations, or engaging in chit-chat.

That is always the problem with speeches by committee. Once he assumed office, President Kenyatta has never been able to replicate that rousing acceptance speech from his electoral victory. Yesterday provided yet another example of long, boring, winding speeches with no unifying theme, memorable quotes, or personal touch. 

One can tell that different government ministries are simply asked to provide a few paragraphs each on their achievements and programmes and some bored and unimaginative bureaucrat is tasked to stitch everything together.

Everything is covered, okay, and all the dots are present, but they are not connected in those deliveries designed to send everyone to sleep and amount to no more than glowing self-appraisals.

Jomo Kenyatta did it. Daniel arap Moi did it. Mwai Kibaki did it. And now Uhuru Kenyatta is doing it. That is why on Kenyan national day celebrations, one does not pay attention to the president reciting a speech he is often seeing for the first time, but waits for the passion, drama, theatrics, and real substance in the off-the-cuff remarks that usually follow.

Now, when President Kenyatta II yesterday denied Kenyans that obligatory phase, there might have been an audible expression of disappointment from the thousands filling the stands at Nyayo Stadium and the millions more following on live television. It was an important and carefully written speech, but tiresome and amounted to the usual run-down of key government achievements as measured by itself.

Madaraka Day, Jamhuri Day, and Mashujaa Day should not just be for government self-praise and self-congratulation, but also occasions for sober and meaningful reflection on where we are going as a country.

It is so easy to tick-off a check-list of so many kilometres of road and railways completed, schools and hospitals built, jobs created, and generally dazzle with economic data.

True, we have achieved a great deal since independence on the basic development indicators, but we all too often forget that the fruits of freedom are not just measured in raw data. More intrinsic values are difficult to capture in numbers put together by fellows more interested in data than in people. Are we all better off? Do we feel more Kenyan?

Does everybody enjoy fair access to quality education, medical care, and other social needs? Does every Kenyan get a fair and equal chance to develop to the best of his/her ability? Do we all have reason to take pride and joy in being Kenyan?

These are the questions we should be asking, the questions that are uncomfortable to those enjoying almost exclusive access to the fruits of freedom simply because they have the right lineage or connections and the foolish ones supporting the regime because they imagine that ethnic or familial ties place them closer to the feeding trough.

The truth is that despite all the “development”, Kenya remains one of the most unequal and unjust societies in the world; a violent, backward, atavistic, corrupt society where a thieving mafia rules and primitive accumulation by those in power is the order of the day.

And then we wonder why we are so vulnerable to terrorism, bandits, and runaway violent crime.

Email: [email protected]. @MachariaGaitho on Twitter