Aging with Ignorance

If anything, growing up has served to confirm my ignorance, perpetuate my happy go lucky life and left me wallowing in the ocean of ignorance. Obviously am not alone in this narrow, shallow thinking
since, ostensibly, ignorance is the new swag. Some call it risk taking, others have caved in thinking it is their fate, destiny or whatever euphemism they brand it. To quote a phrase in a song by the Beetles, we live our life in chain without knowing that we have the keys. That is how serious ignorance can be; it leaves us thinking that we can't do anything to change our predicament.

Sure, there are situations which are beyond our scope of influence- we aren’t alone at that. It is normal; though, that is not what disturbs me; it is our unwillingness to try, our blatant and deliberate submission to oblivion where we have recalcitrantly refused to be a part of the solution to our problems. Ours have been a sickening proclivity to sit and wait for others to take initiatives.

We are a know-it- all society, with an opinion on everything. Our haughty snobbishness is ubiquitous in the social media where our herd mentality has turned it into an anti-social medium. It does not help that we chastises anyone with a contrary opinion, ignorantly label them morons - we are ALWAYS right and anything we write (including this) is right. 

Enough with our ignorance, at least that is (according to me) our collective burden and I won't be foolish as to try lift it alone. It give me solace when I see my problems as a collective problem, that way, I can ignorantly afford the ignorance of not worrying about them, buy a little more time in my favorite hobby - procrastination.

It is expected that as one advance in age, ignorance on certain issues is shed off. That is what I thought but a cursory glance at my growing up, there are issues which truthfully, and am reluctant to admit, have refused to grow with me. The only change I can cite is retrogressive. You would expect that with knowledge, the vacuum void formally filled with spiteful ignorance is filled with facts transforming one into a pragmatic individual. Well, it turns out that this is not always the case.

I hold bible anachronistic for maintaining that people perish due to lack of knowledge, I bet it is their ignorance which act to their detriment. Generally, I never consider myself much of a risk taker; in fact, am wary of any risky situation always playing safe. How I then came about to play Russian roulette baffles me. It is one of those things you do out of ignorance, impetuously lifting a revolver, pointing it at your head and firing. To a casual observer, the very thought of the act is a recipe for madness; unthinkable and totally irrational. With time, one grow and accumulate more knowledge which in effect breed more ignorance, submerging you in all manner of actions and deeds you conventionally regarded as absurd.

A potentially fatal game like Russian roulette suddenly became a fascination. You are thrilled by prospect of death where excuses turn to reasons why you cannot perish. The paranoia is lifted amidst laughs as you watch a 1000 ways to die, perplexed as you marvel at how people demise. You have heard and knows, albeit too well, that aids kill but to you so does accidents. By drawing such a comparison, you throw caution to the winds, shed all guards down and take no precaution to avoid the deadly virus. As if to confirm that little knowledge is dangerous, you are quick to intimate that people die from accidents even when they have tied the seat belts. Why then should you adorn the rubber when the risk is still prevalent?

I have been fighting this ignorance for quite some time and every time after the act, it still puzzle me on how ignorant I can be. A few years ago, I couldn’t fathom coitus act without a condom. I squandered many opportunities of getting laid due to lack of rubber. Fast forward to present, my ignorance gives me a creep for indeed when blood flow from my bigger head to the other head, latex is the last thing in my slumbering brain. I know, and that is why am writing this, that this is indeed a moronic habit and I should shed it off at the earliest opportunity. It is risky, impolitic and obviously vain.

While the bullet is still in the revolver, a pull at the trigger could see you six feet under. You may survive a few rounds but shit happens. You might not be as lucky the next time you pull the trigger. I have survived a few times but history does not always repeat itself.

Best at nothing, that's me.

Some sing, some dance, others applaud. Some write concrete stories in flawless English, others just
read along or still don’t care about the written word. Some write plays, some act and others just
watch, make a loyal audience that cry when a character cries and laugh and love when he do the same. They align their lives to what they see in the plays, in the movies and in the showbiz programs, re live the life that a particular character portrays and have no qualms doing it over and over. It turns out then nature is quite fair since we all have something which we are best at. Could be you are best at being a nuisance, you are good in being a moron, you are good in cramming, drinking keg, writing mwaks…Anything! Put it in another way we all have talents.

Some discover their talents early, others discover them late, still others die with their talents intact, and though they may have used them at some point in their life, the world never acknowledge their talents, could be theirs was a normal talent, the ubiquitous one or they were, for a lack of better word pure shit in what they did. Whether one is a singer, a dancer, an actor, a writer, a pastor (euphemism for a thief) whatever one does best, being talented is common among the entire world population. You need not be unique, you don’t necessarily need a monopoly to own your talent; you only need to be yourself and do what you do best. 

There are those who have multiple talents. To others, like me, talent has been elusive. I have been on a personal trail; an in-depth search trying to figure out what is it I am talented in. I thought of singing. At first it was a pleasant thought then I realized how irrational it was since, to be quite frank, a croaking frog would rank better. Or, perhaps not since it seems the Kenyan audience in its entirety, (how do I say this without offending you?)  has a prevalent hearing problems. Could be the mechanism of our ears is not wired to discern the gibberish. How else can one explain the rhetoric that is the Kenyan music? How else –and am emotive to say this- can anyone sing along to Jimmy Gait Furi furi? That song, whether it was for IDPs or whatever reason just don’t auger well with me. Claiming that it is a gospel, even to a religious iconoclast like me, amount to sacrilege.

Anyway, such is the Kenyan music consumer. We seem to enjoy the rubbish, balderdash, and gibberish: we gulp the hogwash effluent of the slumbering brains of our not so talented musicians. Humming the incoherent tunes, we cheer them on, we envy and emulate them instead of being pithy and tell them how stupid and trashy their nursery school rhymes are. If we are to agree that Kenyan musicians are talented, it must be in one thing: lack of talent! Sound stupid but who said truth must always be intelligent? 

Try telling an up-coming musician - and they are always up-coming – that you think his song has a shallow theme and you risk a dislocated jaw. They get irritably mad, insolently shower you with expletives; totally impolitic for anyone calling him/herself an artist. Rarely will they evaluate the validity and truthfulness of your opinion. But maybe I am a hater (whatever that is), maybe I am unpatriotic. You are at liberty to brand me anything you wish but I won’t obsequiously, sheepishly and silently partake in telling you that you have your clothes on when you don’t. This form of blindness has gained currency particularly here in Kenya where patriotism and loyalty are used as a weapon, twisted to the benefit of whoever holds the card. It is a slogan, a strategy and a stinking ploy that has been employed by all and sundry; our government included. Our jingoistic proclivity has blinded us; we are willing to defend, justify and sacrifice quality for shoddy alternatives so long as it is local. We advertise tenders and lock out potential competitors to shield local industries and professionals. As a result, no research and development is done to try and come up with new cheaper and better production techniques which could ultimately culminate in lowering the prices of commodities. It is easy to argue that imported products are only cheaper because the governments in their home countries subsidize them. On the same note one should continue to say that the producers of these products employ cheaper production methods consequently, lowering their production costs giving them a wider competitive edge. But our industries, just like our women will continue to whine, their sissy C.E.Os will keep on crying to the government and other industry regulators(I have CCK in mind and someone you know too  well) whenever the bitter pill of competition is prescribed.

Politicians are not left out of this honey pie. They know far too well how the psychology of a Kenyan voter is twisted. They divide the country into units and fill all them with the tribal seed of antagonism. They have demonized our diversity with mentality of “us” verses “them”. Everything nowadays is then a combination of various units depending on the mission at hand, where various tribes group themselves and form alliances to fight the enemy and anyone who hold a different view from theirs. That is what we pride as the freedom of speech, which the new confusion (constitution?) guarantees. If these politicians can pull such trickery and get away with it, I bet that qualifies to be a real talent.

After a thorough search of what my talent is, it finally downed on me. In fact it came as a surprise, an insightful experience. I have always known that I am a fault finder, that I criticize almost everything yet performs equally poor when I am given a chance to improve what I criticize. Still, I felt that there must be something else I can do well so this revelation was a welcome surprise. It was a eureka experience, made me think of running naked in the streets shouting eureka so that the whole world could know I also have a talent. I removed my shirt and was battling with the buckle of my belt when another thought rushed in mind. “How many other people have the same talent as me yet they don’t realize?” Apparently we are many. Even so I can at least now proudly tell the whole world that I am talented with the talent of lack of talent. That is my talent; not singing; not writing; none other: lack of talent it is! The thing about being good at nothing, those close to you wont tell you how crappy you are. They sugar coat it, saying what a great voice you have, how humorous you are and countless others. Woo onto you if you believe them.

I know my talent now; the dilemma is: how do I use it? Any ideas? I hope you, too, know your talent.