For now, this will sound like bragging, but I lived in Rwanda and experienced Umuganda, the monthly voluntary cleaning exercise.
Yes, those chaps down southwest call it voluntary. Here, however, we are being sold the same package as compulsory, meaning guns, batons, cable wire whips and tearas are guaranteed to rain and wreak some measured havoc tomorrow.
But before we start crying like people who have been asked to carry mountains on their heads, let me tell you something: this thing can actually work.
Not long ago, I picked up a hoe and started digging trenches at a troublesome spot where every drizzle turned the area into a serious puddle that affected movement. Wifey, who did five years of Umuganda over there, understood exactly what I was trying to do. She joined me and we chatted as I worked.
But the villagers looked at me like I had escaped from a mental institution.
You see, these are people who would rather endure months of loadshedding than contribute shillingi elfu moja peka yake to help fix a fault on the transformer. In that country that Muganga is refusing to be associated with, such behaviour is almost unheard of.
Guys, Umuganda - at least down there - is not just about cleaning drainage channels and clearing bushy surroundings. It is a serious communal gathering where issues affecting society are raised and deliberately discussed.
It is during Umuganda that a widow struggling to make ends meet can have her problems put on the table. The exercise usually ends with a round of porridge sometimes, but definitely with a meeting that picks great resolutions.
That is the day you raise concerns against public officials, police or any other authority, and leaders listen and take those issues to the high-ups.
Now here we are, before we have even started, I am hearing you people making noise.
Mbu Anita Among will not be there, so you also cannot participate.
Mbu Chris Obore's stomach is still big, so you should be left to your own wiles and viles.
Mbu nothing will change even if Cristiano Ronaldo plays another World Cup.
People, calm down.
I know this gava is hopeless. I know we have perfected the art of doubting everything. But sometimes even a hopeless gava can stumble into something useful. And this here could be that sweet accident.
Rwanda formally introduced Umuganda as a national programme in 2007. For nearly twenty years, we have looked at this community initiative from a distance, sometimes downplaying it, until we finally swallowed our pride and decided to try it.
Unfortunately, instead of doing proper benchmarking, the chaps who think for this nation probably went into their morning African coffee binge and came out belching cabbages. And just like that, they directed that we undertake our own Umuganda, which they have not even named, effective immediately.
For crying out loud, we could have at least given it an identity.
Since we have decided to defile shame and borrow ideas, we can even call it Umuganda. After all, it sounds closer to home than many things we have imported. Who will deny it from us if we claim Rwandans stole the idea from Buganda?
Umuganda is Buganda's thing, period!
But as the most brilliant son of Pakwach after that great man Phillip Olarker Rauni, I propose we call this thing "Maber". Sevo is already smiling at this, I swear in the name of my unborn tummy.
Maber means happiness, well-being, goodness, or a state of being well.
Who doesn't know Maber anyway?
And since Uncle Paul has a habit of abandoning national duty to take part in Umuganda, I promise you I will convince Taata Natasha to join us in Kakira during the second round, at a place called Nairo, where his favourite animal, the Pig, is more common that oxygen itself.
Now, let us abandon all our kichwa ngumu and embrace this thing.
Stop this nonsense that maybe gava is restricting movement during those hours so that they can get away with stealing the Moon or transporting truckloads of crude oil under the cover of empty roads.
For once, let us show this gava that we can execute something they failed to properly plan in a way that will make them jealous and eventually ask us to stop. And we won't stop!
During this Maber launch, let's push for every MP to return to their constituency during the second round and participate in Maber too.
And by the way, Maber is not about cleaning individual compounds. This thing should serve the public good. Communities should identify areas of interest and work on them together.
After all, who wants to sit and wait for a gava programme to come and clean their compound?
Anyway, if Sevo and his suited penguins refuse to name this thing Maber, I am going to start smoking emindi and rain curses on them while farting dust!
Now, pick up those brooms. Funga mdomo, fanya kazi!
Let's get down on it!
