'I AM HIV POSITIVE'

[OK, AM NOT, READ ON]

WHEN I GET BACK TO NAIROBI OVER THE WEEKEND, AND WANT NOTHING BUT A NICE GOOD QUIET DRINK, YOU MIGHT UNDERSTAND. WHEN I LOOK FORWARD TO TRAVELLING AGAIN, YOU MIGHT UNDERSTAND

I once heard a development partner talking about eh development. We had driven for 300kms in a convoy of 6 new blue plate white 4 by 4’s, windows up, AC on, mineral water bottles and laptops on our hands. Very high speed. 2 persons each in the first 5 cars, then sardines packed in the last. Dust. That’s how we arrive.

The local MP smiled broadly and stood up to receive us. Loud laughter. Warm sodas were on the table. In Africa, you can get a cold soda anywhere, but try getting fertilizer or good seeds. Or a vet.

BEGGARS SALAAMS CLUB

Various people are called to talk. In most of Africa, it’s the same thing in different languages. Most Africans are deeply superstitious. Sometimes it organised superstition like Islam or Christianity, many times it is a lethal hybrid of these religions and witchcraft. Juju. Uchawi. Black magic, black mail, black list. We’re always thanking and begging, either a heavenly god or a donor god. We’re still poor despite all this, we’re all this because we’re poor.

Speaker: Hamjambo wote!

All: (mumble)

Speaker: Hamjambo tena!

All: (mumble)

OR

Leader: god is gooooood?

All: all the time

Leader: all the tiiiiiime?

All: God is good


Blah blah talkers. Then Development Partner was invited to talk. He stands quickly and with confidence. Through a translator, he says he loves this country. We clap.

DOUBLE SPEAK, 1984, GEORGE ORWELL

I stop listening and look around at the crowd. I was with him in another country further south, I know what he will say. This country is unique, and they want to help. The government is bad and the government is good. The people are very vigilant and the people are a little too oblivious to what is happening. His government will kill Aids and will bring rain without thunder or lightening, thunder is too noisy, and lightening frightens even unconceived babies. Aid is good as it is helping people and aid is bad as it is not helping people. We clap.

CONFUCIUS SAY…

He tells these people that aid is tax money from citizens of his country collected by his government, given to a government department, which then gives this money to our government to do development for our people. I look at the warm soda in front of me. The shiny new cars from his country. Drivers are wiping the metallic beasts. The condition for the aid was that we have to buy cars from his country. Tax from their biggest companies who make profits selling sodas and cars to us, is collected and sent back to us. Serious stuff is always boring. I think it is deliberate. Their companies also sell guns, bombs, machetes, knives and paper clips to us.

HEIGHT OF EDUCATION

The MP has to rush. A small plane is waiting to take him to a small hotel in the nearby small town. Then another plane will take him to the capital. Then a big plane will take him to the development partner’s country far far away. The MP’s daughter is graduating in a big university. Everyone is happy for him. We clap.

I AM MY BROTHER’S KEEPER

We ask to see around. We’re taken to a local market, constructed using government money (I hate the word funds, what is funds?). Initial cost was 17 million, 48 million had been spent before the locals protested. The government engineer tells us the building was condemned as unfit for habitation by his office. The MP’s brother’s construction company did the job he tells us. The people nod in unison. They invite us to get in and see how the building can collapse anytime. For some reason, that does not make sense to me, I decline the offer politely and look for a nice shade.

OR AM I? (My bro’s keeper)

We visit an HIV/AIDS support group. It’s basically a group of locals living positively with HIV. They get free AIDS drugs from the government hospital, but have no food. Also, they need to travel weekly to the big hospital to get the drugs, this costs money, and time away from the farm, words are thrown around; CD4 count, viral load, ARVs, tri-immune. I look around the room. They’re about 30 members, men and women and children, they’re smiling, happy. I feel soo soo sad. I can’t listen to this.

I distract myself by thinking I should buy meself one of these new big shiny 4 by 4’s from Development Partner’s country. Shiny, powerful status symbols. My friends will envy me. I might have to give up golf for a year. Mmh, well, we’ll see.

I look around the room. Photos of happier times on the wall. Black and white happier times. The mud wall has been covered with old newspapers. An old newspaper headline announces ‘Minister Ouko’s Badly Charred Body Is Found’. And the old newspapers are covered with formerly white netting. Then black and white photos of happier times on the ex-white netting.

An old fridge stands at the corner. It is now used as a cupboard. An old small broken TV is inside the old fridge.