Every June 1, patriotic Kenyans gather to celebrate the day Kenya gained internal self-rule in 1963. Harold used to until I told him I doubted his patriotism. He even once changed his name to Patrick when attending Madaraka Day in Makadara and we had to do pronunciation tests so patriotic would sound different to Patrick in the future.

Our village has been inching closer to a dictatorship, with a ruler who knows he is beyond reproach. 

After last week’s Gitegi Prayer Breakfast, which many of you called unnecessary shenanigans because you were not invited, we decided we were going to have our Madaraka Day celebrations and invite everybody.

Our armed forces, including Harold himself who always carries a penknife when he goes out to drink, would entertain guests, as did our The Kenya Defence Forces at Uhuru Gardens.

As a young man, Harold used to ensure he was always armed to the teeth as his wealth was always under threat, and so he has always been part of the defence forces. Now, he no longer has wealth nor does he retain many teeth.

June 1, Madaraka Day. Harold did not know how he was going to showcase his skills in defending the village from external attacks. I gave him an idea. Paul, who is an excellent artiste, drew Harold on an A4 piece of paper, which I made into a nice paper jet. I flew it and it worked.

Outside Harold Assemblies of Holy Associates (HAHA), we met, all excited at the prospect of seeing what our armed forces were capable of, and also hearing the Madaraka Day speech from our leader.

I, as usual, emceed the event. A foreign leader, Clarissa’s brother, whose name I have since forgotten was our chief guest.

Sue arrived and soon Clarissa swaggered to her seat, the two gunning for leadership on a ticket the independent, transparent electoral commission has already decided will place third in the polls.

When I called Sue to come talk to the gathering, she staggered forward, pretending to be high. She had passed her message; she could see aerial threats before they hit the village.

Clarissa was next. But she refused to come forward when I called her, and the message was home. She had a big ego, which experts will call an eagle, and do you know how high an eagle can fly? She would head the Airforce, this one.

Next, I invited Harold. After he had launched the paper plane, I explained to the masses what that meant.

“That is a flyer! It has Harold’s image on it. Harold is a high flier!” Our show was no different from what had happened at Uhuru Gardens a few days before.

Harold made his speech, saying that his leadership had been responsible for some of the main policies the village had seen.

I remember Kinuthia, who had come to tell me my shoelaces were loose (how could I run and win the race in August with this behaviour?) asking me which Polisi Harold was talking about, and why then were they not showcasing their prowess here.

Harold got some maize seeds and said she was giving them to Sue so she would concede when she lost the August 9 elections. It took me an hour to realise he meant corn seed.

The chief guest had nothing to say, but that he was hungry. I reminded the gathering that my birthday is on June 13, which I think was the most important part of the celebrations.