IN the year when I was an active Nairobi thespian, playwright, director and all that, green and fresh out of high school, believing that I could change the world with a song and a few nice words, I frequented the Kenya National Theatre bar with my friends, where we had heated debates and discussions about our African heritage, culture and identity, stifling Kenyan politics and how we all had a solemn duty to liberate our compatriots from local politicians and Western oppression.
We were convinced that we were the generation that would bring about this cultural revolution, but we had merely joined the ranks of many drunken intellectuals who had come before us, some of whom were still in that very bar, grumbling about the theatre management and the ownership of the theatre parking lot amongst many other cultural and socio-political issues that plagued our beloved Kenya.
This was the imposed gap year between high school and university, by the end of which I was very weary of- and sobered by- all the jabbering about things over which we had little influence, if at all.
I have since turned my energies to the academic world where I find comfort in great ideas and clever discussions without the deception that there will necessarily be any change.
At the risk joining the doleful chorus that I have shunned for so long, I feel compelled to say something about the demolition of the National Museum’s mosaic gate being careful not to open the proverbial can of worms- I have refrained from saying anything about the sickening ‘corporate culture’ which is a misnomer as it is actually an absolute lack of culture.
(Last year I went to watch a ballet production and I could barely see the dancers for all the sponsors’ advertising banners, posters and LCD screens, some of which were even on the stage and I don’t even want to mention ‘book fairs’ that I have attended that are all about jumping castles for children and wild music that can be heard from ten miles away and freebies from this and that manufacturer that has generously sponsored the event.)
That a committee in the museum thought it fit to paint the museum’s ‘corporate colours’ in lieu of a mural and some town planners have found that it’s in order to demolish a gate that had so much cultural significance should come as no surprise.
I’m just going to laugh- a therapeutic sort of laugh- and then get on with reading a rather interesting article on one of my favourite online journals.
