Are we a nation of entitlement, impunity, whining?

By Mugambi Nandi

It was quite disturbing to hear the owners of a bus company, whose careless driver had caused the premature dispatch of about a dozen souls to their maker, whining about their licence, which had been temporarily suspended.

We shall never know how they summoned courage to whine about their entitlements, constitutional and other rights, even before rigor mortis had fully taken effect on their innocent victims. Yet there they were, apportioning blame and portraying themselves as victims, complete with straight faces.

They blamed the police for not doing anything to prevent the “accident”. Local traders were faulted for setting up shop on the railway line, thus blocking the driver’s view. The railway company was condemned for not erecting barriers to stop vehicles crossing.

In a nutshell, the bus owners blamed the society for the accident. The tragedy of the matter is that there is a sense in which they were right. From jaywalking pedestrians who will on no account use footbridges, to motorcyclists who will put many a stunt rider to shame with their manoeuvres, to motorists who never heard the words “lane drill” and who think that a zebra crossing is some form of graffiti, to overloaded buses that hurtle down hills at speeds close to that of light, to overlapping private motorists, to policemen who think that a cracked windscreen is more dangerous than nuclear weaponry…. The list is endless!

Our bad habits have become our culture, and the death of us. Yet we react with righteous anger and shock when lives are lost in the chaos we have created or allowed to thrive around us. Back at the railway crossing where the recent accident occurred, the kiosks and illegal structures, which were encroaching on the railway line, were immediately demolished, in the usual kneejerk reaction with which we are now accustomed.

Representatives of the offending traders were heard whining about not being given demolition notices and demanding that the government relocates them at its cost. As proof of the legitimacy of their grievances, the traders produced business permits issued by the County Government. It must take an enormous amount of courage (and foolishness) to display wares on a railway line, only to scamper for safety when a train approaches, and reassemble to continue with licensed business. Dazed by a dose of reverse psychology, we feel sorry for the traders and begin to think how they deserve help from the government.

A sense of entitlement abounds in Kenya. Take the newly rebranded councillors for instance. When did anyone ever hear so much whining by adults, who will not have their jobs evaluated, but who nonetheless, by some revelation or other means, have come to the conclusion that their monthly pay ought to be more than a quarter of a million shillings?

Who ever heard of elected peoples’ representatives who went on strike? What novelty is this?! Exit the people’s representatives; enter land grabbers. They spot a vacant piece of land, which they occupy illegally. They even corruptly arrange to get a title deed.

After assuring themselves of the security of their “investment”, they either sell it to an innocent buyer or build a house on it overnight. If their godfather loses his position or power (or both) they suddenly find themselves haplessly resisting the onslaught of a bulldozer one early morning. Using the same script that saved others before them, they appear on television whining about lack of demolition notices and the breach of law.

Our sense of entitlement, impunity and our whining have reached gigantic proportions. If a parliamentary committee is currently unoccupied and decides to take up any of these matters, it will make recommendations for a law on “humane” demolitions and compensation to hard working Kenyans. And so it goes.