On July 14, 1776, the founding fathers of the United States of America convened at the Independence Hall in Philadelphia to declare independence from British colonial rule, signing off on a revolutionary document whose preamble begins like this: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
Two-hundred-and-forty-nine years later, America — as we know it — has never been the same again.
That it had to take John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Robert R. Livingston and Roger Sherman — to conceptualise the idea of a union that catered to the welfare of all and sensitive to the evolving realities of the day — for America to set off on a path to become the greatest nation on earth, points not only to the immense sense of foresight but also an extreme acknowledgment of the sense of duty that transcended race, colour and any other retrogressive blinker by the nation’s founding fathers.
At a time like this, when political leaders find themselves squabbling with an angry citizenry on whose life matters the most, in the wake of the assassination of one of their own, we’re reminded of the opening texts in the Declaration of Independence read together with the writings on the wall of the first page of the tablets of the Constitution of Kenya 2010. We, the people of Kenya, are not amused by the sustained attempts by the political class to elevate the sanctity of the lives of a certain category of Kenyans over those of the others.
Plight of the political class
Charles Ong’ondo Were has finally been laid to rest in a gallant manner commensurate with his status and in line with his verbal will. The ODM Party — for which he died defending from encroachment and took pride in having a sense of belonging — will take time to come to terms with the profound loss of such a loyal life member and an unflinching faithful servant.
Some losses take time to come to terms with. In the case of Sir Charles, even after the long arm of the law concludes in its reach and everyone with a bloodstain on their pockets lined up for their date with destiny, grief will still engulf the land. Such a man was not just a man.
Yet the founding fathers of the US remind us that grief is grief regardless of the status in society of those it visits at their moment of vulnerability. This is, perhaps, the opportune time for everyone on either side of the heated debate, to pause and reflect on the noble intention of the drafters of these powerful words, as they apply to everyone who means well for the advancement of humanity and desires a better Kenya for everyone.
There’s a profound reason ordinary Kenyans have suddenly become insensitive to the plight of the political class and anyone else they consider a beneficiary of the excesses of the State.
Prior to the June 2024 shakedown that rattled the core foundation of Kenya’s political structure and rewired the mindset of those tone deaf to the grief of the suffering class, government policy was hitherto written by the chosen few, mostly belonging to the aristocratic class crafting policy from their rose-tinted lenses, oblivious of the lived realities of the direct beneficiaries — mostly living on the periphery of human dignity, suffering in helpless silence and relying on heavenly karma.
Treated equally and impartially
When the generation that was weaned on fundamental freedoms and protected by the Children’s Act stepped forward to draw a line on the sand last year, they held these truths to be self-evident, that all men and women are created equal and have certain inalienable rights — life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
The government of Kenya, as the sole protectors of life and singular custodians of property, owe it to Kenyans to be treated equally, equitably and impartially. At any given time, in the exercise of constitutional duty bestowed to them by public trust, the government should have no hint of luxury in entertaining the thought that some Kenyans are superior in stature or important in line, as to be expedited in the clearance of enquiry or discharge of public mandate; and in the case whenever such a seed of doubt is planted, because to err is human, the speed at which the reversal of the trend should be executed should not only be swift and clinical, but also conclusive and with finality.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that every Kenyan has the right to feel safe in public, secure in private, and shielded in-between. That at no particular time should members of a certain class, political or otherwise, feel more high-ranking as to perceive a sense of importance that borders on immortality. It would be a great disservice to the taxpayer, who toils and moils in the searing heat of punishing labour, to remit monthly sustenance to those entrusted with watching over their life and property, only for the said comfortable class to turn their backs and dictate terms on how the suffering class should grieve the death of one of their own.
It is heart-warming to see some members of the political class learning their lessons fast and catching up on best practices in their relationship with public goodwill. While the public can sometimes fall short in their judgment of individual character and deserve to be called out whenever they break the ethical compass, the golden rule will always apply; that when it comes to relating with the general public, it is better to err on the side of caution than to irreparably damage the legitimacy built over the years through hard work and moral character.
An upwards of 50 million Kenyans cannot be wrong when they ask for a political class that treats the public with dignity and works towards legislating parliamentary bills geared towards the happiness of all. As far as we know, Kenyans have never asked for the moon, but the bare necessities of life.
