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September 25, 2018

The origin story of Kenyan politicians

Parliament building.Photo/FILE
Parliament building.Photo/FILE

God and His son were hanging out, doing a bit of creation here and there while taking cold beer. Jesus asked God if they could create Kenyan politicians but God refused.

“No, son,” God said. “We will not create Kenyan politicians. They will just ruin the country.”

Satan, who had gone back to pick a few things he had left behind when he was kicked out of heaven, happened to be passing behind them.

“If you don’t want to create them, I will,” he said, startling them.

“What are you doing here?” God asked. “I thought I ordered Peter to not let you in through those Pearly Gates.”

“Well, Gabriel couldn’t find my stuff, so I had to get in to look for them myself.”

“You look thin, Lucifer,” Jesus observed. “No food in hell?”

Jesus and God burst into laughter and high-fived each other.

“That’s savage, son,” God said, laughing while slapping His knee.

God then asked Satan to leave. When he got back to hell, Satan asked his favourite demon, Damiano, to assemble all the ingredients needed

for creating a Kenyan politician.Satan looked at the ingredients and rubbed his hands together in glee. He had always wanted to create

something and he was excited. He took a large bowl and started pouring the ingredients in it.

“A dash of Insurmountable Greed...

Oops!” “Master, you’ve poured an entire tank of Insurmountable Greed!” Damiano said.

“Accidents happen, Damiano. Besides, it’s harmless.” Satan then picked up his next ingredient.

“A pint of Lying Powder... Sh*t!”

“That’s an entire jumbo jar of Lying Powder, Master.”

“The lid fell off accidentally, Damiano. You saw. But don’t worry, it’s not risky. Pass me that barrel of Fake Promises.”

“Here.” “Okay, 5ml of Fake Promises...

F**k!”

Damiano sighed. “The entire barrel,” he said, shaking his head.

“Relax, Damiano. It’s fine. No one will notice. Now, a tablespoon of Steal From The People...Oh, no!”

Damiano looked up and shut his eyes in exasperation. “You careless oaf,” he whispered.

“The jar accidentally fell into the bowl, Damiano. Accidentally! So stop looking at me like that. And anyway,

it’s harmless. So stop freaking out.

You’re making me nervous.” They both took a deep breath. “What’s the next ingredie... ah, it says here: ‘Put Sleep & Snore On The

Job in basin and sprinkle ...’ Damiano, where’s the Sleep & Snore On The Job? Thanks. Pass me that basin.” “Holy crap, Master!” “What, Damiano.” “It’s Basil. Not Basin. Now look what you’ve...Christ!”

“But it says here: ‘basin’.”

“It’s a typo. It should be basil.”

“Who typed this recipe?”

“Paragoth.”

“That fool. Baoda, tell Paragoth to see me immediately! And for crying out loud, tell those sinners to stop screaming and burn in peace!”

Satan then looked at Damiano, who looked worried.

“Oh, calm down, demon. Its not harmful. Trust me. It may make them sneeze and cough every now and then, but they will take antihistamines and they’ll be fine.”

Damiano nodded half-heartedly.

“Now, half a kilo of Forget You Have Constituents Until The Next

Elections... Oops!”

“567,854,912 tonnes of that will do no harm, right?”

“I don’t know for sure, Damiano, but we’ll see.”

They mixed the ingredients and Kenyan politicians were created. Satan looked at them and said: “Go forth and... Don’t even come in, Paragoth.

You’re fired, you incompetent fool!

...Go forth and lead Kenya.” And Kenyan politicians went forth to lead Kenya.

And Satan looked at them and said to Damiano, in almost a whisper, “I think they are worse than I am.”

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