Mombasa is a gold-standard example on how to kill a vibrant city.
Sultan spends all his 5years bashing UK, importing Rihannas n Chris Browns, taking his ODM caliphate gospel to Nairobi, NFD and almost succeeded in Migori. He was lucky.
The sun was blazing so hotly that we thought it would never rain. We had no way of knowing what lurked deep beneath Mombasa city; what evils crouched in the gutters.
But our sixth sense told us something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
The only hint that something was amiss was the rotten stench that permanently shrouded the town. Like toxic exhalations and waste from a subterranean beast that fed on towering mountains of garbage. We saw the filth that just kept on piling.
Underneath the stench and filth was a dying swampy city with filthy gutter water and whose drainage was clogged to Kingdom come. Mombasa was a town screaming for help; chocking to death on its own vomited waste.
But the death cry of this ancient city went unheeded. People were busy joining the sultan in dancing his beard away. He toured Philadelphia; taking selfies with ‘how’s you ma hommies: type; basking in the limelight. Hogging prime time of media spaces. Declaring how Mtu Mkubwa he was. At this time, the city’s screams for help had become faint whispers; unheard. Even when the final death throes kicked in, no one bothered to check the pulse of the crumbling town.
Then The Rains Came.
The City hit back with brutal vengeance for all the years of neglect. For ignoring her cry for help.
Dormant Dengue fever erupted with the force of a dozen volcanoes. Streets turned into streams, then into rivers then became raging Niagara in full flood. Houses are submerged; cars washed away; houses are collapsing; so are walls. Boats have taken over the streets. The nonexistent drainage system, clogged for years, is no match for raging rains. People are advised not to go out. More rains are expected.
Rains have got nothing to do with the mess that is Mombasa. If anything, it took a 3-day deluge to expose how vulnerable Mombasa was. No structures have been put in place to avoid preventable flooding. People blinded by idiotic blind devotion to a party ideology are now taking swimming lessons from the comfort of their living rooms.
The sunny city in the sandy beaches is now the sinking city in a dump. All of a sudden, questions are emerging. What went wrong?
The rains have washed away the dirt in their eyes like nothing else could. As expected, -001 has been quiet. Too quiet. There is not a single blip of life on his social media account. Not a word for the press. Memes are all over of him surfing in the streets of the town he was to take care off.
Sad truth is our bearded neighbor took over the office to feed his publicity-hungry ego. He knows as much about running a city as I do about operating an alien spaceship.
Politics or not, at the end of the day, these are the painful lessons.
If it floods, all of us are victims whether supporter or hater. When cholera and Dengue fever comes due to unsanitary n poor drainage, we all catch the damn diseases. When houses collapse, we either die or are lucky not to have been there. When roads are washed away, we all huddle in small groups, stranded like moles in light. At that moment, politics don’t matter. Survival comes first. It matters not if its your enemy that throws you a lifeline. You grab it and hang on tight.
In Mombasa, it’s a painful comeuppance. But the good thing is that the resilient spirit of humanity will ultimately prevail. People will survive this ordeal. Losses will be incurred, tragically, lives lost and property damaged.
But the question on whether eyes will be opened and remain open long enough to make the right decision will be answered another day.
For now, keep your fingers crossed and pray for Mombasans. I am however not ruling out a watery sultanic selfie; taken from a hovercraft on the banks whats used to be Mama Ngina Drive.
Anything for publicity, right? ~ Tito Almasi.
Good Governance is a right for Mombasa people ~ Hassan Omar Hassan.
Change is definate.