Desperate Times

I recently joined a rugby team and, every morning, we train a bit at a soccer field. Last week, we were surprised to see that a goal-post had been …er…. stolen. Yes, hack-sawed right through and carried away!

This got me thinking. The theft required at least three people to carry out and it must have taken place very late at night.

Think about it. How much is a goal post worth? Probably, selling it as scrap metal is the best option and can generate, at most 350-450 shillings. So the 3 thieves put in so much effort to take home, what, 150 shillings? Totally not worth it.

But we do live in desperate times. I suppose when you have mouths to feed and bills to pay you will take any opportunity to do so. Think then of the desperaton that arises when your wife and infant child(ren) have’nt really eaten in weeks and you have’nt paid rent for your mud-hut (or cardboard shack) in months.

At this level of desperation, a goal post must look like pure gold.

So, when you hear of strangely petty thefts or other crimes, do not immediatley jump the gun and yelp for the perpetrator’s blood. ( He/she could be a parent of seven, living on the mean streets of Nairobi).

Yelp, instead, for the head and blood of Kibaki and Co.

Do they care that we live in desperate times? I think not. Look at them, driving thir big fancy cars, eating in overly expensive restuarants, pocketing bags of money – all without a damn worry in the world!

Do you think that, amidst the buckets of tender chicken at his table, a guy like Kiraitu ( or any other fat cat) gives one ounce of thought to the fact that the particular tax-payer whose money he is burning probably died of hunger last week?

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