By Gab O
John Paul Mwirigi, Kenya’s youngest MP is now a true politician; He campaigned on foot, was gifted a car by Pres. Uhuru Kenyatta, now bought himself a Range Rover.. Yesterday he strangled a villager in Igembe for complaining about bad roads .. Age is irrelevant in politics.
— Donald B Kipkorir (@DonaldBKipkorir) May 1, 2018
First of all, allow me to apologize for burdening you with this anti-peasantry lecture series. Being a child of a rudimentary cassava farmer and a small-time milk-woman myself, I can’t help it when elite peasants represent us well in the sports only peasantry can excel in.
So, why don’t we gather around and let us listen in. I promise this one will be short. Shorter than my vestigial tail that evolutionary biology has now rendered extinct.
Three things from the news that Igembe MP Hon Paul Mwirigi strangled a constituent who was leading demonstration over poor roads in the area, Hon Mwirigi is former darling of the media who campaigned from the sole of his burning feet.
1. Do not ever elect any son of a peasant who doesn’t have a car into office. I know you will come at me with hammer and tongs, but I have lived peasantry long enough to know that anyone who clinches the MP seat in this country campaigning with money he doesn’t have is only setting himself up to be used by those who fundraised for him.
This guy was all around our media houses telling us how he didn’t even own a bicycle rim, the President then donated his ramshackle contraption to help this guy move around. Someone who never even owned a Black Mamba bicycle spare part last October is now shouting at his constituents from a maddening convoy of fuel-guzzling SUVs. When peasantry acquires some little power, and small money, you will all know that you didn’t now. Just ask me.
2. Being youth doesn’t equate to fresh leadership. You have heard it elsewhere before and I shall repeat it again until your ears get ripped apart from the resounding echo.
Repeat after me, please; any peasant who campaigns on account of his age doesn’t know why he’s seeking public office and shouldn’t even be given an audience. But because sons and daughters of peasantry wont see sound advise even if they were to be slapped with it by a ten-foot reality whip, these stories shall become common occurrence as we go along, and you will have yourselves to blame. Are we together up to this point?
3. Peasantry behaves the same way as aristocracy, only that it’s worse. When you piss off aristocracy, you won’t see them drawing guns and pointing them at your temple like it happens in my village during the annual cassava-tubers auction in Osewre. You won’t even see aristocracy hiring goons to come float you up in the air while you’re addressing the media in pristine hotel lawns. Aristocracy operates with polished maturity. Aristocracy knows no brawn, aristocracy is all brain.
Peasantry is the exact opposite. When peasantry identifies you as a threat to the existence of its feeding trough, peasantry will physically come for your neck and choke you to death, in full glare of the media, and without a care in the world. Peasantry is uncouth like that. And peasantry won’t change even if you were to dress it in a three-piece suit full with a glittering lapel pin.
Because peasantry isn’t your age-mate. And you shouldn’t act like you know.