A KONKODI IN PARLIAMENT!

Imagine, for one scary moment, that a tout was elected into parliament. Alexander Nderitu explored the possibility.

 

Can any two categories of people be as far removed from each other as touts and the Honourable Members of Parliament? The mention of the word ‘tout’ conjures up images of a sheng-speaking, rude-mouthed, door-swinging ruffian who only just managed to escape being a thug. In contrast, the mention of ‘MP’ conjures up images of a distinguished-looking, pot-bellied, middle aged man (women are hopelessly outnumbered) in a dark business suit, driving a luxury car.

So let’s flip the script. Let’s throw a spanner in the works. Let’s take a konkodi from the mean streets of Nairobi, make him the Minister for Roads, and see how he handles himself in the unfamiliar environs of the National Assembly, where the manicured lawns are as level as ponds, the library-like silence is attributable to a lack of quorum (or mass slumber) and any jovial foot-thumping may readily be identified as the celebration following an announcement that MP’s pay perks will be hiked once again….

Leader of Official Opposition: There have been numerous complaints by road users

on the slow progress of the Mbagathi Way upgrade. Could the new Roads

Minister comment on the matter.

Konkodi: Ata ni vizuri umetaja hiyo rodi ju hapo kuna issue moja Biggie kama

Notorious. Maze, hao wathii walitengeneza rodi poa ya tarmac alafu sasa wanaweka simiti juu yake. Kwani ni keja ndiyo waweke simiti?

Female MP: Mr Speaker, could you direct the new Member to comunicate in English

which happens to be the country’s Official Language? I have no idea what he

just said!

Konkodi: Ati nibonge kingoso? Kwani mimi ni mlami? Na nyinyi mamasa sa

zingeni mnapenda kujifanja mababi!

An MP who is also a Lawyer: I agree with the Lady MP. I think this fellow has no

grasp of House rules. He is still wearing a conductor’s uniform!

Konkodi: Nawakilisha ma-boyz wangu. Noma iko wapi?

Hon. MPs: Shame! Shame!

Mr. Speaker: Order, members! I assure you that the new Member will be informed of

the rules in due time. This is his parliamentary debut.

Leader of Official Opposition: Be that as it may, I think the Minister for Roads agreed with me that the on-going construction of Mbagathi Way is controversial to say the least. Despite being only three kilometers long, it has been under construction for a year and it is not even halfway through. On top of that, the amount of money involved is scandalous. I think this is yet another White Elephant project by the government!

Opposition Mps: Hear! Hear! Scandal! Anglo-leasing! etc

Mr. Speaker: Order! O-order!

Lawyer MP: I think that the leader of Official Opposition is using the Mbagathi Way

issue to slander the government in advance of the General Elections. The reason why the construction of the road is taking so long is that a tarmac foundation had to be laid before the concrete surface could be laid. The reason for the expense is obvious – building concrete structures is never cheap.

Leader of Official Opposition: Those millions could have been better spent. There

are starving Kenyans in the Northern and Eastern parts of the country.

Lawyer MP: Concrete roads last much longer that tarmac. We’re actually saving

money on re-carpeting and repairs.

Leader of Official Opposition: Mr. Speaker, I am pointing out the government’s

warped priorities when it comes to public spending.

Konkodi: Tuliza boli, bro, uwanja mdogo. Ata mimi siungi gava mkono kwa swala

hili. Lakini ju wameshajenga nusu, hakuna haja ya kupiga hii project ngeta sasa. Afadhali tuvute pumz. Wakishaa murder, tutaenda tusorore hiyo something. Labda itakua rodi ingine ya power.

Lawyer MP: I move that we declare this fellow to be under McNaughton Rules – he is

insane and should therefore not be taken seriously!

Konkodi: Unaita nani mwenda? Tusizoeane kama suruali ya ndani! Sisi makonkodi

hatucheki na watu!

Lawyer MP: Are you threatening me?

Konkodi: Nikishika nare, mimi ni mnoma! Conje huniona anatoroka masaa!

Lawyer MP: Mr. Speaker, will you allow this character to issue thinly veiled threats

right from the floor of the House or will you have him escorted out with a stern warning?

Mr. Speaker: The Standing Orders call for free speech inside the House but I will not

tolerate any more unwarranted attacks from either side!

Konkodi: Huyu mbuyu anajifanya obohoo lakini hanitishi! Achunge sana

tusikutane kwa rodi!

Hon. Members: Shame! Resign! Step down! etc

Security Minister: When you rattle a snake, you must be ready to be bitten by it!

Mr. Speaker: Order! Order!

Konkodi: Mo fire! Mo fire!

Mr. Speaker: I am getting tired of babysitting adults. It looks like these days,

adulthood is a moving target!

Hon. Members: You’re too old! Resign! Retire! You have rattled a snake! Mo fire! etc

Next month: A tout wins the 2007 Presidential race. You don’t want to speech! Until then, here’s a piece of advice to drivers to live by: ‘ALWAYS DRIVE SUCH THAT YOUR LICENCE WILL EXPIRE BEFORE YOU DO.’

Originally published in 2007

Copyright (c) 2007 Alex N Nderitu

Raise the Titanic (poem)

I turned eighteen yesterday and,man,am I hang over!
The house looks as if someone had a very lively bar-mitzvah.
if the mess was any worse, some terrorists could claim responsibility!
I'm so glad my parents agreed to sleep out and give us some privacy.
Some of my friends are still lying passed ot on the livingroom floor;
They look like the forgotten dolls of a girl who doesn't need them any more.


The rising sun takes on a new meaning this day:
It symbolises my 'new dawn', you might say.
I feel like a young lion joining a hunt for the first time.
Eighteen,eighteen -a teenager in his prime.
I can now drive, vote, belly up to a bar, be jailed for crime.
Tinker, tailor, soldier, president - I can be anything I want to be.

Call me young and restless but I'm like the sun rising above our home:
A mass of nuclear reactions, mine from hormones.
I'm going to do great things - you can count on it.
I'm going to climb Mt.Everest, be a motivational speaker.
I'm going to revolutionalise and industry - like Lee Iacoca.
I'm going to raise the Titanic!
But first, I'm going to clean up the house before my parents arrive.
To them, it makes no difference whether I'm eight or eighty-five.


(c) Alex N Nderitu http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare



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Poetic License (poem)

Reader:
What is this “Poetic License” authors use at will?
Is it comparable to James Bond’s “License to Kill”?

Poet:
“Poetic License” is one of the spices we use
While preparing a savoury dish of literary food.
“Poetic License” is one of the writer’s best tools –
It makes poetry enjoyable and memorable, not just “good”.
“Poetic License” is permission to take the Queen’s English
And make it yours; prepare caviar from the eggs of a fish.
“Poetic License” is a net to catch the wind,
It’s a tune to make your words dance like a fiend.

Reader:
I’m not certain, but I think what you’re trying to say
Is that it allows you to use words in your own unique way.

Poet:
Precisely! Instead of using the dictionary meaning, then,
You massage the words, wine them and dine them.
Instead of saying, “He just managed to beat the deadline,”
You could say, “He caught the tail of the deadline.”
An elusive sun “plays hide-and-seek with the clouds”,
Your teenage daughter’s music is “apocalyptic”, not just loud,
A falling item is “gravity’s guest” (especially if it’s really high),
A blazing white-hot sun shines like “God’s own eye”,
The full moon “caresses the bossom of the ocean,”
A group of stationary helicopters is a “nest” (if they’re about ten),
Torrential rainfall is “hellfire”, a ocean wave is a “scroll”,
A storm is a “holocaust” and cascading human hair, a “waterfall”.  

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Ms. Ann Christian is a Chameleon and a Half (poem)

Ms. Ann Christian next door is a chameleon and a half.
Every morning, in a long dress and white headscarf,
She kneels beside her bed and prays in earnest
But that part of the day is clean from the rest:
She’ll break any given commandment in a heartbeat
And I’m told that gossip is her bread and meat.
Her contradictory behaviour got me thinking:
Do we constantly avoid the road that leads to sinning
Or are we just pious in the morning?

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Missile from North Korea (or ‘Uncle Kim’s Song’)

They say that the danger is present and clear:
Nuclear annihilation is drawing near.
What these hawks are not saying on air
Is that you’re more likely to be killed by a drunk driver
Than a missile from North Korea.


Every nation stocks missiles for its own welfare
It doesn’t meant we’re ruthless like a bear:
Even the Korean Conflict was a Russian-American affair.
After more than five decades in the espionage game,
Here’s the best intelligence ‘product’ I can share:
Eastern or Western, people are basically the same,
We all want the world to be more sane –
It’s current state is a crying shame.
Even after the Cold War, hostilities didn’t wane:
The more things change, the more they stay the same.


I’m running blind, involved in a cat-and-mouse game
Against my own country; you can imagine my pain.
The evidence against me is a tissue of lies
But “watchers” keep following me like flies
And a criminal trial ahead of me lies.
I’ve suffered the fate of too many spies –
Going unseen, unheard, unappreciated, unsung,
After sacrificing our time, energies and even lives.
Now I know what Graham Greene meant
When he called espionage the “territory of lies”.

To fully appreciate this poem, read Alexander Nderitu's award-winning short story, 'Life as a Flower' (http://www.authorsden.com/link/externalsiteredirect.asp?authorID=12010&ref=/visit/viewpoetry.asp?id=138889&destURL=http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewshortstory.asp?id=16946) 

(c) Alex N Nderitu http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Love on a Small Island (poem)

Now dis here story is about a young woman
Who I met right here on dis island in de Caribbean.
Her name be Tamara and she pretty as a sultana:
I fell in love de instant I saw her.

By profession, the beautiful Tamara be a dancer
And she was dancing for some tourists de first time I saw her.
She was part of a troupe but she shone like a lone star;
Dere was a smile on her face, a flower in her hair.
Her smooth angelic hands swayed gently through de air
And she tossed her hips around like a belly dancer.
De way her reed skirt swished around set mi body on fire!

That night, I had de most terrible fever:
Either, I had fallen in love or I had caught malaria.
I still hadn’t spoken to Tamara ‘cause I was in a dilemma:
I was wondering how she would react if I told her I loved her.
If she accepted mi, I and I would be in clover
But if she said, “No”, I would explode like a volcano.

Next morning, while listening to de sound of calypso,
I pondered on what strategy to use in order to get Tamara.
I remembered in school de girls liked de love story by Shakespeare
So I decided to re-enact de balcony scene.
Shortly after dark, I appeared under Tamara’s bedroom window,
Completely prepared to lay mi soul bare,
But just then a billy-goat began to bray.
The situation worsened when I tried to shoo it away:
It turned out to be pretty brave and chased me around a coconut tree!
(Tamara just laughed instead of helping me.)

De very next morning, with a poem in my hand,
I went out looking for the queen of my heart.
Mi fever was really bad but I was adamant –
I wouldn’t rest until I had won over this daughter of Africa;
I was King Solomon and she would be mi Queen of Sheba.

I found Tamara and her troupe by the sea
And she looked real good, doing the hoola dance in a bikini
While a reggae band celebrated rastafarian roots and culture.
I took Tamara aside and told her that if King Solomon saw her,
He’d have to write ‘Song of Solomon, Part Two.’
I then proceeded to read de poem I had put on paper:
‘Roses be red, violets be blue…’
But before I could reach, ‘Tamara, I love you,’
I got real sweaty and passed out from de Babylon fever.
(Turns out I really did have malaria!)

Not to worry, mi brothers and sisters,
Collapsing turned out to be Jah’s blessing, not a disaster:
Sweet Tamara now daily takes care of me!
She visits mi every morning and again in de evening,
Checking on progress and stroking mi dreadlocks
As I lie helpless under a life-size portrait of Haile Selassie.
Truth be told, I got cured a week ago but Tamara doesn’t know -
I love de attention so much, I’m not letting her go.
Who says dere is no love in de time of malaria?

(c) Alex N Nderitu http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Love My Rifle More Than You (Lyrics)

‘You’ll never mean anything but misery to any man.’ – Rhett Butler to Scarlet O’Hara in ‘Gone With the Wind’

The letter arrived at 2200 hours GMT.
At that time, he was still engaged with the enemy.
The contact area was lit up like a Christmas tree:
There were explosions everywhere, the chatter of an S60…
The shelling was some of the worst since World War Two,
The infantry signaled each other to avoid a blue-on-blue;
They looked like characters in a movie by John Woo.
Making it back to camp, relieved that he wasn’t dead,
He received the letter and opened it. It read:

‘Dear John, I’m sorry but you and I are through
Don’t take it personal – it’s me, it’s not you.
I know we had plans for when the war was done:
We were going to get married, have a daughter or a son,
But I’m, afraid there’s been a change of plan.
I’m going to marry a lawyer by the name of Dan.
I can’t be a soldier’s wife – I’m sure you understand.
Wondering if you’ll return is more than I can stand.
The wedding’s tomorrow so I really gotta run
And by the way, greetings from your Aunt Susan.
She says things are okay back at the farm
And she prays that the war will soon be won…’

Now the young combatant, he was all torn up inside
‘Cause that beautiful lady was his joy and pride.
He wanted to get back at her for being so cruel
So he asked his fellow soldiers what he should do
And they came up with a plan that’s sure to amuse you:
They brought out all the photos of their hot girlfriends
Some of whom looked good enough to eat with a spoon
And the young soldier sent those pictures back
With a letter that went into the diplomatic sack.
She received the letter and opened it. It read:

‘Dear Jane, I’m sorry but I’m rather confused
I have to confess that you’re just one of the girls I’ve used.
Please go through the photos and send back the one of you
‘Cause to be honest, I don’t remember which one was you
And I’m really glad you’re marrying Kwan or is it Dan?
You may not love soldiers but you need us – it’s true .
The only reason things are peaceful back at the farm
Is because I’m here, risking all to protect you from harm
You don’t have to thank me, I’m proud of what I do.
Truth be told, I love my rifle more than you!


Glossary:
S60 – an anti-aircraft gun
Blue on blue – Accidentally shooting your fellow soldiers
Contact area - battlefield
GMT – Greenwich Mean Time, also known as “Zulu” time to the military
‘Dear John’ letter – a letter written to someone to break up with them
 

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare