- Kenyans like me—in their 30s and 40s—can reshape the trajectory of the nation.
- As a group, we are the least tribal and have built personal and cross-cultural relationships better than our parents.
Image: FILE
I was honoured last week to host my American family for Thanksgiving. We had a sumptuous feast, laughter and a magical time, thankful for the journeys we undertook together as a family and singly as individuals in 2019, including my two travels to Nairobi, the city of my birth. The first trip was to launch an education improvement programme at Kawangware Primary School and the second to provide leadership training for young professionals.
Kenya is a nation of immense potential and opportunities. Our people are aggressive, open to new ideas and risk-takers—travelling within and outside of our borders for greener pastures and trade. Their resilience and determination are unmatched in Africa.
Unfortunately, our political leaders’ panacea for inequality, bad governance, and corruption is often dictated by western powers. Our solutions are never homegrown and majority of us believe that the challenges we face are too gigantic to solve.
As the launch of the Building Bridges Initiative report revealed, our cynicism with the solutions proffered by the political class to remedy bad governance and promote inclusion is more cancerous than our endemic corruption. Our critique of their grand vision for inclusion did not offer a coherent alternative.
Most of the nonpolitical elite rubbished the report, and the launch before the presidential motorcade left Bomas. We rallied around the ideas that the report should have been about lessening poverty, increasing job opportunities for youth, and investing in social programmes that support the underserved amongst us.
We whine incessantly about bad governance but never attend the next neighbourhood meeting. We talk about holding our leaders accountable but never involve ourselves in social campaigns. And more importantly, we comment extensively on our political system without volunteering or contributing to political candidates that align our vision.
However, none of these ideas accompanied a robust policy framework that is absent of political haggling for positions and power. Our oratory and commentary can only take us so far without a sacrifice on our part to bequeath our children a better future.
Kenyans like me—in their 30s and 40s—can reshape the trajectory of the nation with more action and less talk. As a group, we are the least tribal and have built personal and cross-cultural relationships better than our parents. As a group, we have some form of social capital inaccessible to younger generations.
As a generation that grew under dictatorship we cannot stomach Big Man politics and we recognise the global narratives that shape our policymaking. Importantly, our parents and religion have no absolute hold on our worldview. We are a generation that believes in the rights of others, even in disagreement.
What we lack is the commitment needed to actualise change. We whine incessantly about bad governance but never attend the next neighbourhood meeting. We talk about holding our leaders accountable but never involve ourselves in social campaigns. And more importantly, we comment extensively on our political system without volunteering or contributing to political candidates that align our vision.
What we need to create is an action plan to build a nation that’s beyond short-term political strategy. Our political ideas must spur investments in our impoverished communities; increase the quality of our public education and provide opportunities for those who toil every day to reach their highest vision.
As PLO Lumumba reminds us, when the gods give us a lemon, we should make lemonade not ask for an orange. I admit that Kenya is faced with challenges but I refuse to believe that we lack a homegrown solution—aren’t we, after all, the home of M-Pesa, Eliud Kipchoge and Tusker lager?