Folks, belated Easter wishes! I left town rather prematurely because I couldn’t stand the din generated by politicians over the Constituency Development Fund (CDF), which they claimed hadn’t been released on schedule, hampering their work and jeorpardising their prospects for re-election.
That’s pretty asinine, if you ask me, for as Raila Odinga aka Baba, the former doyen of opposition now a government insider from outside has been reminding, the work of MPs (who my friend Bonnie Mwangi christened MPigs) is to make laws, not provide social services like school bursaries.
Then came the bickering about who keeps the roads maintenance kitty, with Prezzo Bill Ruto weighing in to say he is best placed to keep the funds. I am suppressing a chuckle, not because of the idea of it, but because of the way he said it, rubbing his hands and flashing his open palms as though he was itching to hold the cash.
That’s when I went on a fact-finding mission to establish how the government has been managing the road network under its top-most agency, the Kenya National Highways Authority (Kenha). That’s to say, roads at the highest classification in terms of quality, as well as strategic import.
Driving through the counties of Kajiado, Machakos, Nairobi, Kiambu, Murang’a and Nyeri, the youngest man of the house, having napped, woken, napped and woken and napped again and again, wondered when we we’d get to our destination in Laikipia county.
I must confess how therapeutic it is to drive through those counties, and bar some rough stretches, I thought Kenha was doing a good job—until I hit the homestretch. That’s the road between Nanyuki and Rumuruti.
The 80-kilometre stretch links Laikipia to Isiolo, Meru, Baringo and Laikipia, and it’s categorised, without any sense of irony, a “national highway.” The truth of the matter is that it’s worse than a cattle track. With the onset of the rains, the black cotton soil is soggy and sticky and slippery.
I found a truck stuck in the mud. Six other vehicles were trapped later on, and were pulled out of the mud the following day. To avoid this stretch, many motorists opt to detour some 150 kilometres away. I understand the road was “commissioned” in early 2022, with some Sh3 billion set aside. If that’s true, then Kenha is bure kabisa.
Now, let’s turn to that small matter about MPs and CDF. Let’s declare upfront that this is a slush fund that MPs use and abuse by hiring concubines and relatives, or rewarding cronies by sponsoring students in their schools.
Alternatively, the funds are used to pay off mortgages and car loans because: a) almost all our MPs live beyond their means, b) they are past mid-point in their terms, c) they are building financial reserves for campaigning in just over a year and d) 99 per cent are guaranteed to be voted out.
Put simply, things are thick, hence the hysteria when their access to the feeding trough is hampered, with so much pending business. For all their posturing, none of the MPs has responded to the simple question: if the kitty that they seek to control is for school fees for needy students in their constituencies, should it not be rational and logical to deposit the same in government schools?
Given the prestige that Kenyans hold their politicians, I think we should allow them a final scoop of CDF because once out of office, Kenyans will still expect to see them give generously in church harambees.
As for the concubines, they also need a package to set them for life such as houses and saloon cars. After all, the lifetime gratuity that MPigs draw is just enough for one, not multiple families. And if we don’t extend these things, they might enact new laws that allow them CDF access in perpetuity.
Folks, belated Easter wishes! I left town rather prematurely because I couldn’t stand the din generated by politicians over the Constituency Development Fund (CDF), which they claimed hadn’t been released on schedule, hampering their work and jeorpardising their prospects for re-election.
That’s pretty asinine, if you ask me, for as Raila Odinga aka Baba, the former doyen of opposition now a government insider from outside has been reminding, the work of MPs (who my friend Bonnie Mwangi christened MPigs) is to make laws, not provide social services like school bursaries.
Then came the bickering about who keeps the roads maintenance kitty, with Prezzo Bill Ruto weighing in to say he is best placed to keep the funds. I am suppressing a chuckle, not because of the idea of it, but because of the way he said it, rubbing his hands and flashing his open palms as though he was itching to hold the cash.
That’s when I went on a fact-finding mission to establish how the government has been managing the road network under its top-most agency, the Kenya National Highways Authority (Kenha). That’s to say, roads at the highest classification in terms of quality, as well as strategic import.
Driving through the counties of Kajiado, Machakos, Nairobi, Kiambu, Murang’a and Nyeri, the youngest man of the house, having napped, woken, napped and woken and napped again and again, wondered when we we’d get to our destination in Laikipia county.
I must confess how therapeutic it is to drive through those counties, and bar some rough stretches, I thought Kenha was doing a good job—until I hit the homestretch. That’s the road between Nanyuki and Rumuruti.
The 80-kilometre stretch links Laikipia to Isiolo, Meru, Baringo and Laikipia, and it’s categorised, without any sense of irony, a “national highway.” The truth of the matter is that it’s worse than a cattle track. With the onset of the rains, the black cotton soil is soggy and sticky and slippery.
I found a truck stuck in the mud. Six other vehicles were trapped later on, and were pulled out of the mud the following day. To avoid this stretch, many motorists opt to detour some 150 kilometres away. I understand the road was “commissioned” in early 2022, with some Sh3 billion set aside. If that’s true, then Kenha is
bure kabisa
.
Now, let’s turn to that small matter about MPs and CDF. Let’s declare upfront that this is a slush fund that MPs use and abuse by hiring concubines and relatives, or rewarding cronies by sponsoring students in their schools.
Alternatively, the funds are used to pay off mortgages and car loans because: a) almost all our MPs live beyond their means, b) they are past mid-point in their terms, c) they are building financial reserves for campaigning in just over a year and d) 99 per cent are guaranteed to be voted out.
Put simply, things are thick, hence the hysteria when their access to the feeding trough is hampered, with so much pending business. For all their posturing, none of the MPs has responded to the simple question: if the kitty that they seek to control is for school fees for needy students in their constituencies, should it not be rational and logical to deposit the same in government schools?
Given the prestige that Kenyans hold their politicians, I think we should allow them a final scoop of CDF because once out of office, Kenyans will still expect to see them give generously in church harambees.
As for the concubines, they also need a package to set them for life such as houses and saloon cars. After all, the lifetime gratuity that MPigs draw is just enough for one, not multiple families. And if we don’t extend these things, they might enact new laws that allow them CDF access in perpetuity.
By Peter Kimani