My dictionary’s definition of the word corruption is this: A dishonest or fraudulent conduct by those in power, typically involving bribery. It is the abuse of entrusted power for private gain. It can be classified as grand, petty and political, depending on the amounts of money lost.
For the last four months, Kenyans have witnessed raw personal greed of mindboggling proportions among the men and women entrusted with the country’s resources.
They have plundered them with abandon, leaving in their wake a trail of unpaid bills, poor or no services in various government institutions, lack of medicine and equipment in hospitals and adulterated oil.
When the long hand of the law finally caught up with these bad boys and girls, there was hue and cry not because poor taxpayers had been swindled for the umpteenth time but because those in power were protecting themselves.
When Kenya Pipeline, Kenya Power, NHIF and NCPB bosses suspected to have pinched the public purse and took off with billions of shillings in crispy notes, a section of the Rift Valley politicians cried foul that their community was being finished.
Interestingly, none of the leaders raised a finger to condemn runaway theft of public resources that has continued to bleed our country exposing the people to the vagaries of a shaky economy.
None complained about the painful impact of deep-rooted graft activities that have denied children and women access to affordable health services.
To the politicians who alluded to the fact that the Kalenjin community is being targeted in the fresh war on graft, they are missing the point. They are in fact the enemy of the Kalenjin people for choosing to side with the thieves instead of the people who elected them to represent their interests.
As a Kalenjin, I refuse to be used for political expediency by politicians who care less about my community.
It is an open secret that those plundering the economy have an unofficial pact with those in the corridors of power to amass stolen wealth to be used to influence the political tide in 2022.
Whereas those lining their pockets with stolen money from the public coffers are motivated to steal for their own benefit, it is believed that part of the loot goes to fund political activities that exclusively benefit this same clique.
It is public knowledge that 75 per cent of Kalenjin eke out a living in the farm or in major towns where, like other Kenyans, they break their poor backs just to put food on their tables.
A Kalenjin technocrat or top civil servant who steals does not commit this crime on behalf of that poor farmer in Ziwa or Cherang’any, whose maize is rotting in the stores because he could not sell it to the NCPB after harvesting it last year because cartels imported maize and sold it to the board.
Our leaders must desist from drugging our community through the mud every time they are caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
If, for instance, Kiptiktik steals public funds entrusted to him, he will build himself a mansion in the leafy suburbs of Karen and another one in his Kipsoi village, where it will be the only stony house.
Let it be known that no one steals on his community’s behalf. If that was the case, my neighbour, Kokob Chemutai, whose old grass-thatched hut has been leaning 49 degrees to the West, would be a proud owner of a brand new mansion courtesy of her thieving kinsmen and women.
Kalenjins are not targeted; the problem is that they are more concentrated at the top. If there was equity and equality in this country, that list would be having names from other communities. So cut us some slack.
My advice to those with a penchant to steal is this: Carry your own cross and leave the rest of us in peace.
