Because the mountain will not come, Safara starts on a tricky trip to the mountain
What you need to know:
- Kamau Chunga, who had been a trouble-maker in high school and just missed the cut-off points to make it to college, had gone into the matatu biashara in his local area and was now an MP, one close to the president since his election, and had amassed a lot of money in just two and a half years of power periphery.
- And here I was, Mr Mike Safara, still trying to figure out how ends meet in Kenya.
Last week, I spent six incredulous days in the Mount Kenya area, following a top politician around, and managing a friendly mob for a local MP called Kamau Chunga.
This is how that strange gig came about!
I was on my high school WhatsApp group, and the all-male crew from when we were in high school 20 years ago were thinking of when we should do our high school reunion this year.
After the usual back-and-forth that always happens with these things, a guy called Shaddie Mwendapole – who ironically was both the fastest runner in high school as well as our best footballer – suggested Alfajiri for the May 31, 2025.
“I am coming all of June for the summer from Minneapolis,” he wrote on chat. “I guess we can link up at 4pm as a class, shoot the breeze, eat some nyam chom n grab Tanyez as we do dat, and then catch the Champions’ League final at ten – then the married folks can split home to their bibis by midnight. Deal?”
“Dude,” I texted on the group chat, “‘Tanyez’ isn’t Tusker in sheng, it’s butt!”
Laughing emojis!!
Then our classmate, Hon Kamau ‘Karma’ Chungwa, who was a first-time MP from Mount Kenya, texted: “Shadrack, aren’t you worried that ukirudi, once hio summer ends, Trump won’t let you back into the ‘You Ess of Aye?’ You’ll be declared an illegal immigrant from a sh** hole country, then I will have to employ you as the football coach of my local team in shags, The Karma Young Stars.”
Sponsoring that football team of Under-20 local youth since the end of the pandemic in 2021, and organising football tournaments in the constituency, is what has made Kamau Chunga popular among youth in his area, and helped him unseat the old incumbent MP who had held the seat for two decades since 2002.
Once we had gone off chat with my classmates, I couldn’t help compare our lives. We had all finished high school in 2004, and the majority of us had gone to college.
Someone like Shaddie had won an athletics scholarship to the USA for university, and was now a soccer coach for a high school there and an American citizen, having married a white fellow sports science teacher. They had three children. And he was always posting photos of his various ‘meets’ from other States.
Kamau Chunga, who had been a trouble-maker in high school and just missed the cut-off points to make it to college, had gone into the matatu biashara in his local area and was now an MP, one close to the president since his election, and had amassed a lot of money in just two and a half years of power periphery.
And here I was, Mr Mike Safara, still trying to figure out how ends meet in Kenya.
My little pity party was interrupted by a call.
“MP Karma” was flashing on the screen…
“Habari, Mhesh,” I answered, trying not to sound nervous. “Sioni timu yako Arsenal ikipita Real (Madrid), let alone making it to the finals in Munich, Mhesh.”
I still recalled how fanatical Kamau had been about Arsenal in Form Four, the year of The Invincibles and how he got into trouble cutting school to go catch games at the nearby shopping centre.
“Nyinyi ni kikombe ndogo tuu, sijui Confederation Cup, mtapata kama Chelsea...”
“Conference Cup, Mheshimiwa,” I shot back, but wondering why he had called.
Certainly not to banter about European football.
“Eishhh, Mike, wacha story za Mhesh. Just call me Karma, as you always did…”
“Because you always come back,” I bantered, but Mhesh Chunga missed my pun.
“What are you doing with yourself these days?”
“Just hustling here and there, and trying to survive,” I said honestly. “Congrats on your big win in the last General Elections, by the way…”
“Ni Mungu tuu!” he replied, in that cliché Kenyan phrase. “I have a job for you…”
As it turned out, ‘Number One’ as he called him, was undertaking a one-week tour of the Mount Kenya region, and Hon Kamau Chunga had a hired crowd to accompany the tour throughout its tenure.
“I need a guy I can trust on the ground to handle the logistics for me, Mike, and I see on your LinkedIn that your specialty is sales and logistics,” he said, then chuckled. “I also remember it was Safara who was always organising our funkies.”
For a second, I was back to being that popular guy in high school, in all the clubs, writing letters to mostly girls’ schools to arrange ‘functions’ for us to go to.
What had happened to being that kind of influential person in just 20 years?
“You will make sure the buses run on time, our hired guys are picked up, that they are well trained to cheer, ululate, laugh and wave their hands on cue throughout the tour, and that they know those who don’t comply will not get their daily Sh2,000 pay.”
“How many folks are we talking here, Mhesh?”
“About a thousand men and women, as our core tour cheerleaders, Mike.”
I let out a low whistle, then asked: “What’s my pay?”
“Sh20,000 daily, Mike. That’s 120K in total. Are you in?”
“Are you kidding me, Mhesh Karma? Is my last name Safara?”
And that’s how I ended up spending last week in Laikipia, Meru, Kirinyaga, Muranga, Tharaka Nithi, Embu, Nyeri and Kiambu counties with a cheer crew. I slept bone-tired on Sunday when I got back to Nairobi at my ‘Sunset II’ apartment, but woke up with a smile on Monday morning, knowing I had made cheddar.
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