I’m sorry for what I said about Kitengela…
2 years ago.
I chided about the dust and sprawling polyethene bags. I spoke of sewers and booming Wamasaa shutles. I spoke of choking winds and deadly fumes. I spoke of a stinking slaughterhouse and 6 by 6 potholes.
I spoke about a swampy market and rowdy bodabodas. I spoke about incurable traffic jams and lane-less tuktuks. I spoke about flash markets on roads and misplaced buildings. I spoke about car parks on the roads and lakes in the town centers when IT THREATENED to rain. I talked about “shonde ni pesa” poop bowsers and raw sewers THAT RESULTED FROM PRIVATIZATION. I spoke about no drainage systems. I spoke about taxis, and its jobless drivers. I spoke about crazy motorcycle rides, the sand, mud and dust, and its vestless, helmetless riders. I spoke of uncompleted projects… misplaced Mulika Mwizi floodlights and roughly-done contracts. I spoke about sold government properties and slaving construction workers. I wrote about women, from Mandazi sellers to hardware-runners… fighting off morally-bent men all day as part of fulfilling their duties… I wrote about the banks, loans and the curses of land sale.
I wrote about sand and the death of rivers; and the growth of Kitengela. I spoke of research(less) planting of trees that dried water-catchment points. I spoke about bed-rocks harvested for buildings’ foundations, leaving rivers bare. I spoke about dumping soil into rivers and milking off brush. I spoke of milango-mbili lorries that sank their chasis harvesting the last of the sand that remained in the deepest rivers beds. I spoke about the disappearance of wildebeests and rhinos that once wandered into the once-thick shrubs next to my home. I wrote about the lions that ate livestock but we were all too naive to pursue compensation individually. I wrote about the KETRACO project and the SGR that cuts through Nairobi National Park… and why the natives do not care anymore.
Now, I look at everything.