What terrorism has done to Kenyans

Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis said “Paranoia is never entirely mistaken “. I can back the man on that.

I generally display a composed manner even where heckling is approved.

But that calm demeanour is blown to smithereens the moment I hear the distinct buzz of a bee.

The change of reaction surprises people. Bees scare the daylights out of me.

A single bee drifting towards my coffee mug is bound to set off all my panic buttons.

In female company, the panic attack is heightened because at the back of my mind is the inevitable and sheer embarrassment of getting stung again.

Once in the company of a young lady at a business meeting, a bee hovered in front of my face as if taking aim. I lost track of conversation and was preoccupied with how to get from the source of threat without breaking into a run.

The lady noticed my obvious discomfort and said reassuringly, “It is only a bee”. She wouldn’t understand.

I can produce a detailed history of unprovoked attack from bees. I have gotten stung so many times, I reasoned that this level of profiling can only be penance for sins committed in a past life.

I have been stung while getting interviewed live on a national talkshow. The venue was tropical garden.

On this one sunny day, a bee decided to crawl up my leg and stung me just when I was getting into my groove.

I took the sting like a man and did not utter a word. My friends told me later that I looked like a man suffering from a constipation throughout the remainder of the interview.

In another incident, during an important fundraiser at an in-laws, a bee landed on the edge of my cup of water, placed on the ground, next to my seat.

When I reached under the seat to take a gulp, I got stung on my upper lip. The commotion that followed was ugly. I cursed in front of little children.

Poured water over an elderly man, lost my sense of bearing for a few seconds as I stumbled through chairs trying to suppress the excoriating pain.

Bees buzzing

People panicked, some started running and if it wasn’t for a calm uncle, I would have set off a stampede.

These incidents were only preparing me for the real test. A work colleague had a turned her guest wing into a private office where we spent long hours editing content for documentaries on weekends.

On this particular day, I heard bees buzzing on her roof and raised my concerns. She explained that bees had set up a colony in her ceiling but an ‘expert’ was coming to sort it out. Her casualness was remarkable.

I should have listened to my instincts but instead I listened to my ego.

Stay calm

An hour in, I heard footsteps on the roof and uneasiness set in. I was dismissed with a wave of hand. “He is an expert.

From ICIPE.” I started to panic and true enough, moments later, an entire hive fell right through the ceiling into the room.

In a surge of adrenaline that propelled my flight response, I threw my jacket over the lady and rushed her out of the door through a hailstorm of bees. Not a single bee stung her. I got stung 9 times!

My paranoia around bees is informed by past trauma. I recently became a beekeeper in an attempt to confront my fear but it will a long time before I can learn to stay calm around a honey bee.

Keen observers will notice that terrorism incidents are planting similar seeds of paranoia.

We have an urban population of young people showing symptoms of paranoia and every loud explosion triggers the worst of fears.