The HeMan dilemma

25 Years ago, a young boy woke up on Christmas morning at 4:30am, jumped out of bed and went to see what Santa had left him – a stocking full of goodies.

“Yes! Match Soccer Annual, check. Tub of Fruit Pastilles, check. Satsuma orange, whatever. Five Irish Pounds, check. Ah here we go, He-Man figure – this is what I’d asked for” says the unidentified, perhaps fictional young boy.

“Wait, Santa gave me one of Skelators Henchmen? A horrible cross between a lizard and Arnold Schzaneggar? Damn, I don’t want that!” says the ‘I don’t know any better’ bug-eyed, curly haired young lad.

So the boy turns to the bed beside him, where his brother soundly sleeps. His innocent young eyes fall on the big red stocking full to the brim at the end of his bed. The boy takes a timid step towards the end of his brothers bed and with the skill of a MI5 agent, quietly empties the contents of the stocking. Out pops another He-Man figure but this time a good guy, some hammer head bloke with huge muscles and a cheery face.

“Now, this is what I talking about Santa” he holds the figure in its plastic wrapping up close to his face. His brother is still in the land of nod (still is?), he wants this figure, know one will ever know....

What to do?

Amos Wako, the Attorney General of Kenya faced a similar dilemma over the last two weeks.

After months of public discussion and consultation, after months of parliamentary debates, arguments and finally a vote to confirm the too-long awaited new constitution – a more equitable, modern and representative affair – was signed off and prepared to be given to the public an August referendum.

And then, the ‘He-Man’ moment.

Wako, who has been AG for 15 years and has been embroiled is so many scandals he makes Silvio Burlusconi look like a choir boy, is currently barred from entering the US on account of his efforts to stop reform in his country and stopped the 2002 new constitution efforts, was given the document to check punctuation and grammar and make minor edits if he found any errors.

He made a few minor errors which he passed by an independent body of experts and then had a day, all on his own in his evil lair before he was to send the document to the Government printers.

He doesn’t want this Lizard Skelators Henchman Constitution. He wants the Hammer- Head He-Mans Buddy constitution.

(Let me state that I have no concrete information to suggest this was the actual thought process of the Attorney General of Kenya.)

What to do? He knows if changes the constitution and its passed, people will look at him with ‘why did Santa give me the bad guy and give my brother the good guy. He must have been the better boy this year’ look.

Such a dilemma. What to do?

Well he changes the constitution of course and takes He-Mans buddy, prints it (wake up brother – happy christmas, oh look what you got from Santa – an ugly fat lizard and Skelators ass wipe. Nice, I got He-Mans buddy :-) ) and sends it off into the public.

What did he change you ask – he just added two words which makes access to all Kenyans individual human rights dependent on whether the Head of Security does not believe that access to such rights poses a danger to national security. He did this even though thousands of experts, independent auditors and almost 87% of voting Kenyans a read the document.

One of the main newspapers here – The Standard – wrote in its editorial that this episode illustrates perfectly the ‘moral and intellectual bankruptcy of those in higher office in many African countries’.

Amos has been caught, not officially of course. Shit don’t stick here, unless your poor, then not only does it stick, it proves wretchedly hard to remove. So as always, the blatant screwing of the electorate in Kenyan goes unpunished (so far).

The boy who got his figure did not get punished either as like Wako, it’s unlikely it will ever be proved he did anything wrong.

The moral of the story of course is this

“If you’re ever going to screw the little guy, always end up on the side of the good guys”

No wait, that’s not right…

Changing lives of Sex Workers and Irish Bankers

Everyone gets to do cool things in their jobs. In my last job in the bank I worked in, I got to play in our client entertainment days on the Druids Glen Golf Course – the Augusta of Europe.

This week, working with SOLWODI (Solidarity with Women in Distress - an organisation that work with Female Sex Workers, Children affected by sexual exploitation and Trafficking in People) on their communications material, I got to interview rehabilitated Female Sex Workers (FSW) to learn more about their struggles and how they’re lives have been changed by SOLWODI.

Yeah, Golf? Pssh!

I had three interviews. My first was with a 27 year old rehabilitated female sex work called Joyce* (with the help of a translator). Every question I asked Joyce was answered with almost tangible amounts of confidence, determination and pride. There was no smiles, timidity or shyness. She had come to tell me her story, a story I sensed she had told several times before but was no less impressive because of that.

Joyce came from a big family and dropped out of school early (as so many girls in large impoverished families are forced to do). She was brought up in Marikani, a town just outside Mombasa on the Nairobi road – a route with heavy trucker traffic – and a huge market for female sex workers (FSW).

With no source of income and no way to sustain herself, Joyce explained to me she felt she had no choice but to sleep with men for money. While doing this became pregnant.

I asked her how she came to know of SOLWODI and she told me that through the International Centre of Reproductive Health she was referred to SOLWODI’s Peer Educator programme where she trained as a peer educator for fellow FSWs. Later, with SOLWODI’s help, her peer group set up a self-help group and a table banking scheme (a small scale savings and lendings group).

Through this she managed to get a loan of Ksh1,000 to buy and sell vegetables, her first definite steps toward a new life. SOLWODI then linked her to a larger Micro Finance group who gave her basic business training and another loan of Ksh7,000 which gave her enough capital to grow her business, operate in four market days in her local area and develop a decent level of weekly income.

She told her story with well versed clarity, each question asked was responded to with no hesitation and delivered eye to eye.

During these interviews, what you are really looking for is one good quote, something that really shows a positive change in someone life – donors love that. And when I asked her how SOLWODI had changed her, her confidence for the first time was betrayed by a touch of emotion revealed as a gentle tremble in her voice. Almost involuntarily she raised her hand to her chest:

“I’m now taking my daughter to Private School^ and paying for all her fees and taking the responsibility for her future so she will not have to face the same problems that I have” she said as if repeating a solemn vow, a determined commitment to make the most of this new brighter future.

We talked for about 20 minutes, a good success story was documented and one excellent quote sourced. I had pretty much got all the information I needed and in all honesty, it was fantastically inspiring to listen to her. It was some from sort of cheeky curiosity, I wanted ask one more question, one I wasn’t sure if was appropriate to ask. But I wanted to establish the measure of her change in her life compared to her old.

I asked her to tell me what life is like as a sex worker.

She paused and looked at the floor. After a very brief moment, perhaps even a second of silence, she lifted her head and again looked me in the eye:

“Terrible. I never want to do it again.”

Indeed.

And that was it, interview over. I shook her hand and thanked her and tried to express my gratitude. She smiled, said goodbye to the SOLWODI programme officer who helped us and disappeared down a long dark corridor and out into the Mombasa sunshine, back to her life selling vegetables to pay for the basic needs of herself and her daughter.

Good work days no longer consist of playing golf with bankers and their clients. I guess it no longer does for them either. Work life has changed a lot for me. But not as much as it has done for Joyce.

Thank God for that.

*Joyce is not her real name. ^Private primary school is not as plush or as exclusive as it is at home but offers smaller class sizes and therefore a better education