Kuria Vs Public Court 2017
Saturday I attend this wedding. A long time friend was walking down the aisle. A girl. She had sent me five reminders in succession every morning like those peace prayer challenge forwards. So I give in. I walk into House of leather at the sleeves of pioneer house in my hat like a legendary pop singer and bend to pick an artwork for them because Tom and Harry brings bowls and am the guy with a different Narrative. Plus the rule of the thumb dictates that you don’t stray into people’s weddings with only a hat to show. You got act like you are cool and ooze some generosity. It’s the third wedding I have attended voluntarily in a life time. Voluntarily means I got excited as a girl. Bragged to my boys about it. Planned. Googled for gift options. Slept. Woke up. Dressed. And went for a wedding in my hat. Such that if someone asked me in May 2065, “what did you do on Saturday Ninth September 2017?” “I will boldly say, I went to a girl’s wedding in my hat” and go “would you have some thirteen minutes you prove it out on winstontony.com?”
The fourth and final might be mine just in case the romance gods get merry and I meet a girl and I tell her that I am a cool guy and she takes me serious in the near future. Because in this one I had wished I be the one to catch the flowers but unfortunately the two thirds gender rule had it that it’s a girls only reserve. Boy child was selectively marginalized. So Beyonce’s Single ladies played in succession and some damsels lined up and one of them fumbling in heels landed on the flowers with both hands. I wish you saw how she giggled helplessly. I wish to know who the boy be. Her friend’s be.
Weddings are boring but why did I attend though? She is a super friend. She had persisted. Plus silently I was out to see if prior fortunes would have fallen my way. So people dance and eat like no one’s business. I thought because they had religiously attended a succession of wedding committees. Apart from me in my boring attention seeking hat, everyone else has dressed to kill unaware of the lustful eyes of the Maragas of the fashion courts of this world (Insert akina judge Ian and that lady in red hair if you still watch them) They greet and shake hands and hug and bump shoulders and exchange smiles plastic or otherwise as I play observer. I played observer once in a while holding my hat between my hands to greet elders or chaps who appeared elderly and feeling like how a dog would feel with a tail between its legs because I am not myself without that hat. Ninety percent of my self confidence is hosted in it. It nests there and gets me walking head high. Whoever came with that crap that we hat wearers should be putting them off when we see elders should be paraded by the hat lovers association members at Uhuru Park and shot. It’s retrogressive. Plus I doubt it’s our fault that they had to be here before us. But It’s flabbergasting that I battled through adolescent hatless only to start putting on hats in adult life!
See weddings are still boring a decade past. However, I see one thing ‘unity’ We are all United until someone from hell checks in hedging plans to split us in the mid half with hate mongering. Yes you and I and another friend exchange nasties here and there on Facebook but that’s serves our entertainment allowance. No hidden agendas. The person from hell am talking about might be yourself or me but most probably one man by the name Moses Kuria. I think he got crystal balls. Let’s just say he’s the ordained father of hate mongering East and central Africa North and South of river Limpopo (those terms are meaningless. Am just trying to get word_y and you will realize your dictionary wields no such word; wordy.)
He stays in confused as a pegged teenage and starts spewing hatred. Sowing seeds of hate and anger among peace loving citizenry. Telling us their tribal maths. Pitching us against communities and each other. Causing us believe tribe A is bad and B is good for nothing and C fights for no good. Taking us through boring talks on a people’s foreheads unpurbertubed that gay talk bores us to the marrow.
Permission not granted nevertheless, allow I use a one Moses Kuria aa an exclusive hate mongering case study. Ladies and gentlemen fasten your seat belts and let’s troll down his Facebook page aboard Screenshot evidence.
PS: Please wind up here if you are a sucker for nasty words otherwise, put on a grin and on your max, get set, ready go…
Screenshots aside, Moses Kuria has said nasty words at every offering. He has raised the middle finger in the public Gallore and even walked out of a televised interview when his hate narratives were invoked. Has to mention that he was also a player in the famous Pangani six over hate speech related Charges.
Sorry, this is not my way of it but Moses Kuria is a dichead. That place Gatundu lacking a lesser evil alternative for Mp dies not make him superhuman. Enough of his lectures and name calling. And why is he interested with people’s foreheads? Is he gay? For the record none of us is. And we all know that every dog that barks has an owner. Let me quote Ruto small “we are not stupid my frens” we know he’s serving the masters. Their Narrative of hate mongering and violence will backfire in their goddamn faces. I know the toothless Kaparo might descend on me for expressing my displeasure because I am a lesser human being.
But why hate speech? I mean what’s the motivation behind spewing hate? I went down the streets of Google in seeking to fathom and among many reasons I picked up just a few: that hate mongers are mostly chaps who are covering up insecurities of having endured childhood of being bullied. And on another scale it’s their short at relevance. At being heard and getting counted. But most often they are mouthpieces.
Sunday afternoon service we had a visiting preacher; an Australian domicile in South Africa’s Cape Town of the famous HillWorship. As part of his presentation ‘under living in the moment’, he gave a recount of the day he was preparing his summon and his twelve year old son stormed into his room. And unusually interrogating, “Dad can we go for an adventure?” Surprised and worried that he’s got a summon to mind, Dad goes “What’s your idea of the adventure son?” The son quips, “I think that’s why it’s an adventure because no one knows until you experience” (congregation laughs) Phill asks “can we take the dogs with us?” The son says yes. The adventure happens. Dad posts a pic of his son and dogs in a hilly escarpment on instagram and captions “some of the times it’s refreshing to take a break from life and go for an adventure with son and dogs” First comment instantly comes from his fifteen year old daughter “and abandon your daughter at home” To a dad that’s like that final jab MacGregor endured in the ninth and closing round of the Mayweather Vs MacGregor affair as he hang boots.
The thing with living in the moment (which definitely is those things that give you joy) some people might not necessarily like your idea of happiness. In this our crude example, Moses Kuria finds unmeasured joy in bombarding us with hate narratives which to us, is not our cup of tea. So we throw tantrums by telling him in the face that that’s bullshit.
If we must really have those hate speech things. Then it must be just a little then. The progressive one. Not the retrogressive type that scratches the wounds of historical injustices. The kind that says Wafula eats like a Freshian heifer. Who doesn’t eat anyway? And Kamau stills but I doubt the Kamaus of this world like that. Such however is welcome because it builds an industry that is comedy and doctors worldwide advice some laughter a day keeps wrinkles away.
This politics is confusing small. Jubilee will mostly have lesser crowds in comparison to NASA’s packed to capacity. Jubilites sympathetic of their situation will tell NASArites crowds are not numbers. We will vote and Jubilites will ‘miraculously win’ NASA will book a date with law. The court will say it’s not always about numbers but constitutionalism. And quip election is not an event but a process. Some bold_eyed guy will lie that servers are in Europe and everyone will amid cracks of teary laughter conclude that that’s the joke of the season. The historic Maraga moment will happen. We will be pushed back to the drawing board. People will literally scratch for answers. IEBC threw tantrums. Every one said it was their damn time to eat. And eating they ate the mess they had midwifed on the Eighth of August going by the words of the poetic PLO at the courts. The big boys will ask “Young man can we talk about your business proposal after Elections?” That will be another month or so of the business of waiting. 2018 will be a gone case. You will want to rant “but I have nothing left to eat at home sir.” It will dawn that it’s not their mistake that you have nothing to eat at your crib. If anything they made their Estates long before your parents conceived you; historical injustices perhaps_the very same the country is fighting. You will go back to Facebook to check whether Moses Kuria has posted anything nastier lately.
To your freaking exasperation, Kuria will be hell bend at it. It will be like adding salt of your tears to the same bleeding wound. He will have written about our foreheads. And called us Lords of poverty. And declared kingship belongs to them. And say community Z should be cleansed because they don’t respect the president who’s his kin. And threatened that he’s arming his underground militia with pangas to do right that! He will talk and talk and even slide his tounge into what should have rendered him a permanent resident of the prisons department. Speaking of a one idiot, sorry Musando whom by Kuria’s goddamn words is enjoying with a lady somewhere and the media is lying he died! He will later swallow his tasteless words but the Internet will remember. He will not stop there. He will start posting asking to dish put money. And it will exasperate your soul how some slay Queens will throng his comment section begging and him sending mean sums rubber stumped at the core center with his stinking ego. You will wish for a government that will find this girls an alternative way of life and keep them off Kuria’s timeline.
Robin Sharma wrote ‘The leader without a Tittle’ Indeed everyone of us is a leader in our own way. Only that some of us have no title prefixes before our names when others have. Kuria being a leader of his magnitude should not misuse that position by residing in his unserved inadequacy to drag our precious attention into hate mongering and what have you. Instead he should guide us into model leadership. Am convinced that even without a title to my name yet, a good number of people follow my online narratives to what effect I will ask my self “what would Jesus say?” (not that I am cork sure that Jesus reads.) It gets me asking…
Why am I even here sorry for judging but spoiling an otherwise family friendly platform talking about the not so worthy mention Kuria.? Why am I even asking you to waste your thirteen minutes reading this.? Am getting out of my way because the world is dangerously fractured at the mid Centre. Everyone of us wakes up to pursue the journey that finds happiness. Anyone who stands in the lead way should be talked put with vigor. Kuria happens to be that obstacle to our happiness with his hate mongering narratives. My self in my little way I stand up to use this platform to tell him a resounding No! In the face without caring whether it’s hurts his stinking ego or not. Does he care of ours anyway or as to whether we Harbour any? To what effect and with this, am lauching an anti_Kurias_HateMongering social media campaign that perhaps should go viral. Your part thus, read and laugh out hard at him (hint: laughter is medicine) laugh again this time louder and hysterical and then share this to a friend who has not laughed in a while. Ask them to do the same. Then finally tag Kuria in all your anti_Kurias_HateMongering communications in social media. All the best.
By any damn chance you see him in person idling around parliament road, Tell him to go drying. He can as well be our enemy if by us being friends costs us happiness. If this succeeds, Mark Zuckerberg being the social entrepreneur he is, might find solace in extending a helping hand to us Kenyans and the world community by striking him and his generation off the Facebook grid without necessarily leaving San Francisco Bay and the world shall know peace. After all our very own home boy; Ole Kaparo like a toothless dog has played to the politics of letting the status quo be while barking vehemently at us “others” just as a harmless dog would do with its tail tucked in between the legs. Funk citizenship! It thus appears that we are fuckin neighbours of this land.