Claiming Love

7

In this excursion however, I noticed that not everyone in this gang was the devil’s advocate. There were good and humble souls. The one hated most by the High-Enders was the Philanthropist; they called him ‘a waste of human flesh’ who belonged to the gutter of the forgotten and forbidden. Philanthropist had made his wealth through hard work and played by the rules in all his operations. He religiously filed his tax returns when due, acquired all his business operational documents legally, and occasionally would castigate the bad and unacceptable business practices carried out by his fellow men in the fraternity. This more than anything annoyed the gang and mooted a plan to bring P down. This plot included a sustained undermining of P’s credibility, sabotaging his business operations, hostile take-over and if necessary physical annihilation of P. but there was a catch. P had endeared himself to the populace and eliminating him was bound to raise such a hullabaloo that if not properly managed would result into an uncontrollable social and civil disobedience, whose net effect would be disruption of the Gang’s operations, this is something they wanted to avoid by all means. Therefore the evil machinations were shelved for the time being and instead P was called to the Council’s Management Board and given a stern warning; to change his methods of operations or face dire consequences. P decided to do a ‘Mandela’. “I have grown up and by God’s grace lived a life He has chosen for me. I dedicated my life to do all that was in my power to ensure no human being suffers from man-made and natural calamities that can easily be sorted. Nobody should be allowed to be unhappy. These are the ideals I stand for and if necessary ready to die for.”

The Gang was left in limbo.

“The interactions in this in the rich man’s sphere are restrictive and follow a clear path set out the respective club. The poor man comes in when the former wants to use his services which are mainly menial.” Prof. said this last statement with disgust. “However, among the filth there is always to be found one who acts outside the norm in this case, exemplified by M. P.”

“If scenarios like these are allowed to thrive in society, they are more often than not likely to lead to mass disaffection among the populace which is a sure recipe for civil strife to demand emancipation.” That pause to gauge effect returned to Prof’s face. The rapt audience seemed to give him the green light to continue developing his theories.

“Let us look at contra-presentation of the Wherewithal world. The second port of call for our character I was the land of Unfailing spirit,” Prof. said and delved into the now famous adventures of I.

I’s second port of call was in the land of Unfailing Spirit; a community of poor but proud human beings. They were a people who believed in themselves and whose stock-in-trade was hard work, strong spirit and not open to manipulation by the affluent.  They strongly believed that for a majority of acts of benevolence were underlying malevolent motivations; tithing in and building of churches, huge contributions at fundraisers, gifts and alms to the poor, name it; one can be sure to find that the benefactors would sooner than later demand for something from the beneficiaries. Puritan was the leader of this group. What struck I when he first met him was that behind the façade of easy going persona as portrayed by his body language was a strong willed force that dictated his every action in his leadership. In his discourse with I Puritan took I through a journey of struggle for self-determination, a monumental task of changing the community’s mindset and introduction of unwritten set of commandments for which the people would live by and identify with. There was every possibility his subjects and land can develop and scale the heights of economic growth without the unnecessary immoral and ostentatious consumption seen all over the other communities. Communities should be allowed to achieve their aspirations through development in freedom after the identification of major priorities. Rights should be safeguarded and upheld. However the people of Unfailing Spirit never fail to acknowledge that the exercise of freedoms and rights comes with a very high threshold of responsibility and accountability; men and women of goodwill are careful never to infringe on others’ freedoms and rights in the exercise of their own and that every action has consequences and rewards. Was this an example of a perfect community that should be replicated all over? That was ‘far from it,’ according to Puritan. Like any other mortals his people are prone to err but once this has happened one must willingly submit to either the due process of the law or their preferred ecclesiastical systems and accept the consequences thereof. Every act of goodness should be from the heart; if any mistakes are committed, they should very much be inadvertently of the head and not of the heart.  Forgiveness for one another should also come from the heart. The mantra ‘forgive but not forget’ does not exist in the land of Unfailing Spirit. The unbridled greed and pursuit of affluence experienced among some communities blurs the essence of the very existence of mankind and denies majority of mortals’ access to even the basic minimums required for survival. The overriding objective in Puritan’s land is the pursuit of happiness and joy for all through the utilization of resources within their reach and above all respect for others’ abilities and sensibilities.

Is this a closed society? According to Puritan; no. interactions with other communities is acceptable and even encouraged. The presumption that Unfailing Spirit is founded on the philosophy of unquestionable traditional conservatism is misplaced. The ingredients of modernity, that is, democracy and freedom of speech and association are not anathema to Unfailing Spirit; people here have a discerning spirit to separate conjecture from substance. The people never allowed the hopeful vision of the future - which is prosperity for all – scuttle their present tangible plans for producing goods and services to be enjoyed in that future. The clarion call to engage in productive activities cannot be gainsaid in this society. It is uncommon to see any able bodied man or woman stalking out for alms or any welfare services for which they can work and secure or procure. Catering for the needs of the differently enabled persons is a solemn and moral responsibility for all.

Professor Wilder’s second installment on I’s adventures was an eye opener to all the students. It was upon each one of them to critique the two scenarios with the view of interrogating their stands and ask the more important question; which scenario presents the best socializing and or interacting platform for human development?

Gina could not fail to realize that she was in one way or other caught up in the two scenarios; she did not even know who her true parents were, but whoever or wherever they were she was sure they could not be near anything called wealthy. Incidentally she was currently enjoying largesse from one of the most influential people in the country; would it be correct to call her a child of privilege? Her own personal view was that she only found herself in this situation courtesy of fate. She had never planned to be associated with affluence but her state demanded that she gets a foothold to enable her deal with serious emerging issues that she was sure were going to affect her life. Throughout her early adulthood her surrogate father, Stanley, had impressed upon her the virtue of hard work. Professor Wilder’s introduction to the discipline of sociology taught her the importance of interaction among all the citizenry of society based on mutual respect for one another’s station in life; it abhorred the unbridled pursuit of excessive materialism by a few at the expense of the development of the majority.

Gina knew if she had to live to her sworn promise of bettering the lowly in society and especially women, then she had to create a balancing act between ensuring that she earns whatever she gets and at the same time tread the thin line between the two worlds of the haves and have-nots. She further acknowledged the fact that important resources that will engender reasonable outcomes in empowering the marginalized among women will hugely come from the wealthy. The standard was, according to her, use discretion without compromising the ideals one stands for. How she wished there existed in her society a place like the Land of Unfailing Spirit! The mosaic of a pretentious moral society and fickle democratic dispensation had created a cabal of power barons whose major preoccupation was the worship and pursuit of materialism while loading it over the helpless and vulnerable in society. Gina appreciated the fact that trying to antagonize the rich will be counter-productive. For a girl of her age she felt rightly or wrongly that there was still time to right the wrongs perpetrated on the poor masses by the minority who were profoundly wealthy in her world.

There were days when the young girl felt hopeless and an unexplained emptiness within her. This situation will never be righted; maybe not her lifetime. ‘No … No … No’, she realized suddenly that she had raised her voice inadvertently. Marete looked at her curiously. “Is there anything wrong Gina? He asked as he negotiated a sharp corner which would lead them straight home ahead.

“I am sorry. I was just thinking out loud,” she lied. Gina had come to know this middle-aged man seated beside her as a quiet person who only spoke when it was extremely necessary to do so.  He took another quick look at her and went back to what he knew best – his work.

Gina continued with her reverie. Girl, this defeatist attitude is dangerous. Change! That is what you have chosen to do. And nothing should stop you. As their compound wall came to sight she shook off the silent monologue and reverted to the evening ahead.

***

Saturdays were mainly rest-days. After working the morning shift at the Jackpot, Gina would normally retreat to the serenity of the mansion she now called home. The schedule seemed to be the same; take some half hour siesta, have a cold bath, do her course assignments for two hours and finally take an evening walk around the neighborhood reveling in the cool evening breeze from Lake Victoria. All this while she would, in most cases, relive her past and make decisions on her future plans. During these escapades she took time to survey her surroundings, the inhabitants and their social disposition.

Since Gina and her friend lived in one of the more affluent areas of Kisumu she felt whatever she was being exposed to was not a fair and true representation of the entire society of her country. So one Saturday she decided that on her routine tour she would venture outside the cocoon of her residential area. From discussion she had on many occasions held with her classmates, she had often heard of places like Nyalenda, Kondele and Kebuye as some of most economically disadvantaged in the county. Kondele, yes, Kondele the first place she had been offered a place to rest her tired body. Whenever that name was mentioned, it elicited fond memories although she had stayed there for a very short time. Now she realized that she had had no opportune time to venture into the inner core of the Kondele society; it would be a bad idea to start her ‘study’ in her former ‘home’. Her task was made easier by Jabom, a resident of Kondele and a former neighbor.

“I am writing a project on empowering the residents of the fringe suburbs of Kisumu and fortunately Kondele is one of them,” she literally lied to elicit support from Jabom, whom unknown to Gina did not care about any project here or anywhere so long as she would make it his worthwhile. A couple of hundred shilling notes changed hands and the deal was sealed. 

The totality of her tour of the area could be summed up in one statement; deplorable state of human habitat! Kondele was bleeding. A cauldron of human struggle for the very basic of wants needed to survive. As her mind raced to make sense of the whole situation, some spectacle playing out a few meters from where she and Jabom were standing caught her attention; a young girl of about six years of age was engaged in what looked a tussle to gain possession of some object from a boy a bit older than she was. She tapped Jabom and signaled their movement towards the scene of the unfolding drama, which was actually the city’s damping site.  As they approached, they were hit by the foul odor emanating from the mosaic of garbage and raw human waste deposited at the site. The sweltering sun didn’t make matters better.

“This is our world,” Jabom said under his breath. Looking at Gina he was mesmerized at her demeanor even when the reeking grew strong as they approached.

“I am used to it. This is what we do every day,” she said as if reading her guide’s mind.

On reaching the ‘battle’ zone Gina gently got hold of the young girl’s hand and pulled her aside. Jabom was on cue and did the same to the young boy who now had the full possession of the item under contention.

“Don’t be afraid of me, I mean no harm to you,” Gina opened up to the girl in friendly tone. “My name is Gina, what is yours? She asked admiring the girl’s apparent strong mien exhibited by the way she looked at the older woman.

“My name is Nerima,” she said matter-of-factly.

“That is a beautiful name Nerima,” she meant it. “Now tell me what the problem is between you two,” Gina was now squatting and holding Nerima’s hand.

“I was scavenging for items to go and sell to get money for food and buy some exercise books, when I saw a tin can of jam,” she said her eyes wandering off to where the two ‘gentlemen’ were standing. “As I reached out to pick it Jerry reached out and grabbed it. I was the first one to see it,” her eyes told the story of a much wronged person. “Is it because I am a girl? The question directed to no one in particular.

“No, I don’t think it is because you are a girl; either of you are still too young to start having or even thinking about gender biases,” she didn’t believe it herself, but she had to say something to assuage her new found friend’s bitter sensibilities. Gina felt she had to gain the full trust and confidence of this young girl if her chosen vocation was to make any sense at all.

“Nerima, I want to be your friend.”

The young girl was not sure of what was coming. Although she was in primary school, life in the slams had taught her to be suspicious of any of ‘fat cats’ who went around dangling goodies and making promises to such of her ilk. Her mother, who was the only companion she knew, had constantly warned her of such people. Don’t be attracted by the good promises and sweet words coming from their mouths. It is potent poison. That was the voice of her mother.

“My mother has warned me not to pander up to strangers,” she said firmly

“I can understand. I have also been through such a situation,” Gina said unbelievingly remembering one of the most intriguing lectures of the good Professor which again featured the fictional character named I.

Human endeavor in developmental issues has never been this aggressive and diverse. In all this the pursuit of happiness seems to be the motivation, but there are other considerations based on times, places and expectations.

However, in man’s different locales there are found some unique traits of humanity. One such people are those who live on permanent hope that the future will bring good things; their hearts are refreshed at every thought of a futuristic paradise. They keep on doing the same things the same way and expecting different results. The opposite of this are the Retro-Justifiers; these are stuck in the past and use it to justify their actions and existence in the present. Suffice it to say that they get strained to have to cope with the ever changing life dynamics. Applying old or traditional methods and systems or strategies to deal with contemporary issues can only result in inefficiencies and under productivity and by extension a vicious circle of poverty. But all is not lost. With proper interventional mechanism – availing educational and training opportunities is one way to go.

The delusional live in constant cosmic fallacy. They pride themselves with a pretentious existence outside the rest of the earthly mortals albeit they being part of it. The most common idiosyncrasy among members of this group is always found in their fervent advancement of the ‘alien take-over of the universe’ philosophy and go further to state that these ‘aliens’ are none other than themselves – creatures with superhuman abilities. Are these people realistic pragmatists or pragmatic realists? In actual fact this obsession is and only exists in their minds. Should mankind eschew such mindboggling propositions? No; not at all. It will do well for all and sundry to decipher, expose and make sense of the shadowy content of these people’s character.

One of the most interesting classes of human beings I came across was that which experts have termed as Memetics. These people, experts say, see ideas as a kind of virus, sometimes propagating in spite of truth and logic. Their maxim is: Beliefs that survive aren't necessarily true, rules that survive aren't necessarily fair and rituals that survive aren't necessarily necessary. Things that survive do so because they are good at surviving. If the world is looked at as a jungle this assertion will not hold a lot of sense since ideas, and things originate from a source – mankind, who by the way does not exist or survive in a void. Man’s own interdependent nature makes it imperative to propagate those ideas and beliefs and practice rituals that meet general acceptance across the communal spectrum. Indulging in the opposite lone-ranger path will be deemed as egocentric and self-defeating. Propagating ideas lacks essence unless it leads to public good and development.

The Dark Souls are given to insidious, diabolical malevolent plots aimed at disrupting the normal social order; create fear and general despondence in their location of operations. They derive satisfaction out of people’s suffering and misery. Their network is incredibly formidable. Interestingly enough at times members are required to suffer the pain of loss for continued self-preservation; at this point they discover the frailty and vanity of their powers.

The weirdoes live in their own world; answerable to nobody and owes nobody nothing. They are found on the streets, alcohol and drug dens. They have made their homes under highway bridges and in the most environmentally deplorable locales. Their fate is left mainly to the elements and the never-ending harassment by the state agencies who view them as the scourge of the earth. But guess what? I found that this was one of the most independent species of people on mother earth. A ‘weirdo’ is considered strange in many people’s eyes simply because their mannerisms and general character seem outlandish and contrary to universally accepted norms. This is being myopic. These eccentrics are being what they are and go further to, emphatically make that statement; in any case, isn’t the pretentious society not responsible for the state of their weirdness? The gum-sniffing street boy or girl is a product of human progeny. Is there a whiff of animist behavior here? The girl in a strip-tease club is somebody’s daughter. What need to be addressed are the fundamental issues that underlie the increasing number of this class of people. First step is to appreciate and accept them and their existence. Second, focus on establishing mechanisms and strategies for rehabilitating these people. These must be user-friendly, practical, affordable and sustainable.  Care should be taken to ensure that the affected people do not deem the exercise as punitive and aimed in the long run making them subservient to the powers-that-be. Third and last, the following up and monitoring procedures that will be put in place should be to ensure continued and sustained human development. The ‘moral’ society needs to embrace inclusiveness in all its undertakings; the deviants are a mirror to society’s own failures and it is incumbent on it to come to terms with the same and stand to be counted. What is done today heavily impacts the future. Counting the days in our lives is a zero-sum game; it should all be about letting the days count

This young girl needed help. Gina didn’t have to look far to see where that assistance would come from; she felt she was it so long as her new young acquaintance would accept and seize of it. From the look of the situation convincing young Nerima was going to be a little bit hard, but she had to try. The best way to do it was to engage the services of Jabom, who was still talking to Nerima’s antagonist a few meters away. The two seemed to have hit a rapport as their body language suggested. Gina called out to both who immediately joined her and Nerima. Gina pulled Jabom aside to speak to him while by the sides keeping a keen eye on the two kids to see if any ice had been broken.

“I want you to convince Nerima that I mean no harm to her,” she told Jabom. “In fact the reason why I want you to do it is because I feel she can act positively if spoken to in a language she can understand, her mother tongue. Tell her that I am going to take care of her and her mother in terms of their basics and also ensure her school fees are paid if she can abandon this life of scavenging.”

“That is a tall order Gina. Convincing these people to abandon the only way of life they know is sometimes next to impossibility,” Jabom said matter-of-factly.

“But at least one can try. I suggest we go visit the mother,” Gina couldn’t believe that she had not thought of this before.

Ten minutes later the quartet was seated outside a paper carton shack that Nerima and her mother called home. True to form, and Gina was not surprised, Martha, Nerima’s mother cast suspicious glances at the two adult strangers. Never before had any ‘normal’ human being had set his or her feet in this deplorable habitat. The only visits she was used to were those from the local law enforcement officers whenever they came calling looking for and arresting vendors of illicit alcohol. At times she had lived in perpetual fear of being evicted by government agencies that sometimes showed up unexpectedly to serve the inhabitants with notices to vacate because ‘the government wanted to put up this or that facility’.

Martha, just as her daughter was a very intelligent and discerning woman. In a very short time she surmised that these two, especially, the lady were decent people who meant no harm. With this settled in her mind she sat down to listen to what they had to say.

“My name is Gina and my colleague here is called Jabom,” Gina started the introductions and continued, “I am a student at University and I am on fact finding mission for a project my institution is undertaking to assist the community in this area,” of cause that was a lie but she had to do it to gain the confidence of the family.

“We heard about the same before,” the older woman said with doubt laced in her voice. “But do you see any project of note anywhere here. We had better be left to go on with our lives.”

“I am sorry to hear that. I know there are always challenges when it comes to fulfilling promises once they are made but there is always a first time and I am willing to bet that this project my institution is undertaking has very high chances of successfully implemented to its logical conclusion,” again a lie. She was becoming uneasy for continuing with these lies. But she had to do it.

“I am ready to give the benefit of the doubt because something tells me you are a person of her word and unquestionable moral character, and my spirit has never lied to me before,” Martha gave Gina a knowing wink which the latter responded to instantaneously.

An hour or so later the visitors were getting ready to leave. Nerima was elated and clutched at the Gina’s hand firmly as a sign of appreciation. Martha had strongly protested at the idea of sitting back and waiting for freebies from Gina, rather she had proposed that Gina could enable her start some small business to take care of the basic needs of the family while she, Gina, took care of the school fees for Nerima. The deal was sealed and dusted. But before they left, “we have to think about moving you to a better housing facility,” Gina told Martha looking straight in her face to ward off any dissent. The old lady got the message and backed down.

After exchanging a few pleasantries and ensuring that Nerima and her damp site rival whose name they had come to know as Babu, had made the peace and vowed to respect each other, in any case the kid girl was no longer to be scavenging at the damp site, they left.

“How do you plan to fund all that you have promised this poor family? Jabom asked as they approached the bus stage.

She looked at him and smiled. “My benefactor affords me with some sufficient stipend and besides I have undertaking some projects for some business entities which pay some not-so-bad a fee. I can afford to spare some of that. Jabom we can only live a fulfilling life if we spare a thought for the others who are not as fortunate as ourselves,” she said with tinge of moral responsibility.

Her companion knew from previous engagements with her that this was the moment she liked most; giving lessons on morality and moral living. He didn’t pursue the topic any further