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The struggle with many a rigid Logooli cultural practices

  The Logooli community is one of the deeply cultured societies – with near everything supposed to have been done as per custom – to allow another custom to follow. One example is that for a mature man (with a child or more) to be buried, there must be a house structure at home. Another is that a boy must be circumcised and nursed in father land. If maternal family decides to, the boy will have a hard time reconnecting with father people - a dent on his masculinity. There were two children who got burnt to death in a house in Nairobi. The single mother had left for night work. Elders were told that one of the children was Logooli. The other, the woman had sired with someone else. The Logooli family wanted to burry their little one and long discussed the do’s and don’ts. Of a man who died childless and the grave was placed as if he had died as a man with children. It should have been dug on the sides, the grave. A real thorn should have been thrust in his buttocks, his name go...

I COULD NOT HAVE GONE TO THE STREETS TODAY

KUSA 2013/14 (20/05/2014) DIARIES

As we sat down for a caucus on what could be the effects of going to the streets two days latter, only a few heads gathered. It was not clear whether tea, water and allowances attracted people. There were no snacks and many souls missed.

As other leaders got charged to join comrades, others had the view that it was not yet time. They were not brief to say they fear consequences.  I will only say my stand for the sake of those who may not agree with my views. I was for the streets!
How did the meeting end in KUSA boardroom? I do not remember any other meeting ending with a conclusion. All the times we engulfed in cognitive fight. Who could allow a ‘lesser-one’ advice? The NO team headed to Amphitheatre to meet the rather warming up comrades as the YES team disappeared into hostels.
                               I did not follow up to know what transpired in the meeting. 



Early in the morning, my friend and I trudged along the paths of the town to arrive in Nairobi University on time. As early as 7.00am, whistles filled the chilly morning to awaken the sleeping comrades. The staff obeyed and stood to watch.  Being a tradition, some stood in support of the cause- the government should reduce school fees in campus and not dare increase as the cabinet secretary, Jacob Kaimenyi had prompted.
Slowly but gradual, comrades filled the open space before Mboya hostels. Those who could get the best view of the podium watched from the windows. Chanting raged… Incite us! Incite Us!
       
 I loved this pledge song and narrated from my heart ….’ If I die in the battle field*2, tell my wife I tried my best!’…

With a charged crowd, the march started. Others ran. Some drank. I took hold of the Manila paper that hosted the message. Journalists were not late to cover it in their news.
To a first timer, it was very pleasing to see deserted Uhuru highway as other cars moved in reverse and turned against the traffic laws in hurry to evade the malicious ones.  It was the apex of life. I saw myself very powerful. Did I not do some push- ups at the parliamentary buildings?  This was until we merged with Egerton University comrades at the parliament buildings then drama ensued…

The fence of KICC was climbed by the swift. The slow ones remained to test the mercy of the raging GSU officers. Those who ran away met The Kenya Polytechnic comrades who were fiery with chanting. As we hugged and danced, we were careful to notice any coming tanker. What a bad game!

                 
Back to the main Campus, we had the confidence to chant thinking that at no way could the officers enter the premise for it would be a breach to the law and also result in campus closure. I was not of the view that we should take hold of stones though it was the habit of some. We gathered for several short lasting meetings at the SONU offices for addresses and more incites. But each gathering had reduced number of attendees. Aluta continua…!
It was not until the officers entered the premise to cool up the situation that the tempo subsided. Even the innocent who were passive, somehow ignorant to the calls tested the tear gas. The unlucky ones found themselves nursing ‘rungu’ strokes.

 I had travelled back to my quiet campus.


Tired and worn out, I wondered what the gains were….. Zero! 

As the drums of another riot echoed, I was not concerned. Though HELB office had not worked to observe time-line, a riot would not solve. It never does

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