Welcome home, our dear Cousin Barry, revel in the dreams from your fatherland

When the US president travels, I heard someone say this week, the world stands still. So the police are closing major roads in the city in a few hours to ensure we all remain grounded as the Big Man comes to town.

I’m not sure if that’s good for business – you know whose business I’m talking about – the unofficial business on our roads, which explains why most policemen are increasingly seen fiddling with their phones to check their account balances...

But now that the Americans have taken up the management of the city – from the airport to Gigiri on the outskirts of the city, probably because they question the competence of our boys in blue, things are likely to be thick.

There is that little matter about phone networks being jammed and the internet interrupted for most of the day and the days to come, so that those with debts to pay shall have a perfect explanation for not keeping their word.

Still, there is a simple point that most of us are missing: Our Cousin Barry is simply coming home, back to his fatherland. And see what a load he had managed to pull up: Thanks to him, our roads have been paved, even the hysterical opposition has found something useful with their time other than opening their mouths to speak.

But the real gift has been in the mounds of grass planted along Uhuru Highway. The grass has simply stopped growing, unable to cope with the pressure of living up to this business of cheering on the most powerful man on earth.

You must be familiar with the adage that when two elephants tramp, it’s the grass that gets hurt, only that the grass on Uhuru Highway has not been trampled upon. It simply has refused to grow.

I hear Kenyans have offered all manner of suggestions to make the grass grow in only a few days, including use of a certain spice to provoke rapid growth, or getting our Cousin Barry to wear green glasses to simulate vegetation.

WITHERING GRASS

Now, the person paid to plant the grass in record time should be relieved to know that our Cousin Barry will be arriving under the cover of darkness and taking off in early evening, which means he might not have to see the earthy grass.

Yet, it is in times of crisis that the best in us is affirmed, as in the case of Nairobi Governor Evans Kidero. It is a masterstroke that the withering grass should necessitate the return of the Kidero drums to our streets, this time, not to contain our strangulating traffic, but to water the grass to maturity.

Some folks are actually persuaded that the grass was meant to be readied for the Pope’s visit in September, when all the plants shall be in full bloom.

Whatever the case, let’s be appreciative for everything that Cousin Barry has brought his way. He could have chosen to ride in with the anonymity of his student days, when he rode in rickety cars and slept in couches in relatives’ houses.

Instead, he has chosen to tour aboard Air Force One, not to bring glory to himself – he has done that for six years already – but to lift the name of his fatherland that gave him a name.

Perhaps that’s all he needed from us. In turn, he has given us much more, the most alluring attribute being fame as the country that produced the first American President.

There couldn’t be a better compliment, which is why we should bear the inconvenience on the roads, or in air this weekend with nothing more than gratitude to our famous son for making us proud, and for making the time to visit us.

The Government has been rather mean not to declare today a public holiday and revel in the accomplishments of Cousin Barry.

And as we are busy resting, our Cousin Barry will be busy making deals for the country he leads, which is not a bad thing at all.