Kenya is in a political season. Over the next 30 days (and beyond) we will be subjected to high drama, rhetoric, and political shenanigans. But the consistent image we will get of politicians is the big man (benefactor, master and Lord). This is the Modus Operandi of the campaign season.
Let me sketch out a picture. The location is picked out by 'political strategists'. It is bedecked in the party colors. Massive sound systems are rigged to the grandiose stage (where the candidate will ascend as on to 'his' throne). The candidate will ride in with a motorcade comprising juggernauts sitting atop. Each vehicle follows the other in order of rank. Wearing matching party clothes with the candidates name imprinted on the chest, he will address the awed masses in party T-shirts, capes and waving banners with short, chilling messages. The TV cameras will cover every angle, including the sky cam, which will from time to time descend from heaven as if bringing the candidates crown. The masses waving their hands, recording the events on smartphones, are enthralled with the presence of 'their big man'. Never mind that in quieter days, the location hosts thoroughly bored village boys herding their ruminants, and exchanging tales of the destination of every passing vehicle. (In the city, it is tales of English Premier League and La Liga, as well the next hustle.
After lots of 'brah, brah, brah', (I will do this, I will do that, I will get rid of this, I will start that, you will give me your vote) the candidate, with irrelevant songs, will confidently get into his battle truck, sit atop the sliding roof (with his hanger's on) and move on to the next territory. Everybody will disperse in the belief that God has visited 'us', and we have served Him.
Contrast with this picture. In the ancient city, a Man and His 12 followers go into an upper room. (It is the most important night in their nation's calender.) There, a lavish buffet has been laid. The friends partake of the meal. The centre of attention is always the Man who never lets His loving gaze wonder from His 12 friends. One of them, behaving strangely, suddenly gets up and after a brief, puzzling conversation with the Man, leaves. No one notices anything out of the ordinary. (The brother who has left is the treasurer, and from time to time, he often undertakes money related assignments).
The Man then gets up, and ever smiling, lays aside His expensive seamless robe. Like a servant, He ties a towel around His waist, takes a bowl and jar of water and begins the menial task of washing the 11 men's dirty feet. (In this part of the world, at this harvest season, it is hot and dusty. Everyone has dirty feet from plodding all over). One disciple shoots up and says "never shall you wash my feet". The Man trying to wash his headstrong disciple's feet tells him "if I do not wash you, you have no part with Me." Knowing his Lord, the disciple replies penitently "Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." The Man Jesus then made a shocking statement that is relevant to this campaign season, " 'Do you understand what I have done for you?' he asked them. 'You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you." (John 13:12-15)
Jesus Christ, the Man re-instituted the principle of servant leadership and removed the big man mentality.
Since 8th August, we have been captured by men and women who have been trying to manipulate us, threaten us with all manner of tantrums. We voted for leaders to serve us and now they tell us we don't know what we want. In 2018, ignore their foolishness and remind them we are still the bosses. Participate in every constitutionally available process of civic participation and refuse to let you voice be stilled. A Happy, wonderful 2018 to you all.
