STONE COLD HAVEN

  • Haiti: Self Interests And Hidden Agendas of Aid Agencies Aren’t Helping

    Posted: January 22, 2010, 11:22 am by Darius Stone

    When news about the devastating earthquake that hit Haiti started filtering through last week, my first thought was ”watch the vultures ride into town”

    Even my wife was confused by my perceived indifference and reference to the aid and humanitarian organisations as vultures, as they geared up for what is turning out to be the biggest peace time humanitarian disaster of our generation, save for the 2004 Tsunami.

    The earthquake and its aftershocks have caused untold devastation and suffering to the people of Haiti. Lord knows they need all the help they can get, and in principle, I have absolutely no problem with a coherent humanitarian effort followed by a structural programme to rehabilitate the country’s infrastructure.

    Inevitably with such situations, the ugly side of the self righteous aid and development industry bears its teeth. It’s a conversation many people in the aid industry don’t want to have as they bury their heads in the sand.

    Watch the news now, and it’s more to do with aid agencies marketing themselves and fund raising than actually doing the bread and butter things that helps stabilize relief issues in Haiti. Every aid agency you can think of are in town from Red Cross to Oxfam, from the Sisters of Guayando to The Pillars of Christian Faith, from Handicap International to Doctors Without Borders.

    The question has to be asked though? Are all these people working with a silo mentality really helping? Some of the aid agencies are already being accused of focusing on the marketing opportunities the media coverage is providing. If you work in the aid industry, you’ll be well aware of the potential of fundraising off such a disaster.

    Aid agencies are even claiming ownership of the relief efforts by using slogans like ”Spearheading the relief efforts” or ”Leading the relief challenge” – as if it was a job that belonged to that agency.

    The blunt reality is that the co-ordination of the relief effort is incompetent at best and tragic at worst. The people of Haiti are already feeling the impact of these uncoordinated efforts. Lives that could have been saved are gone, those who could have been treated have developed permanent disabilities because aid agencies were still haggling on the tarmac at the airport in Port Au Prince.

    The worst part is that the agencies will still continue to play territorial games and have the overall relief work hampered by politics and hidden agendas.

    Where I live, we’ve even been approached by several people purporting to act for NGOs that are sending relief to Haiti. One of them even left a threatening note demanding that we give something.
    See
    , I’m one of those people who get pissed right off with such nonsense. For one, the heifer who left that note saying she was coming back to collect anything from money to old clothes has no clue where I stand on this issue – or even what I’ve already done for that matter.

    I actually happen to know how the money trail works within the industry so I’ll be well placed to know what to do if and when I decide that my conscience needs to do something.

    These same agencies haven’t even cleared up the mess of the bottlenecks they caused after the Asian Tsunami – and believe me when I say too many cooks spoilt that broth.

    We’ve got a long way to go with Haiti.

    Get Shareaholic

  • The Good ‘Ole Days

    Posted: January 13, 2010, 3:23 pm by Darius Stone

    When chatting to a good friend on new year’s day, I asked how her daughter was, and at first, it seemed that the question had dampened her spirits.

    “Darius, she’s in secondary school now”, was the subdued answer and it was quickly followed by a resigned “Dude – it’s official, we’re old”.

    But even after we both cracked out laughing, the thought lingered and you begin to take stock. I guess that the main change in my life over the last several years is that some things have become more important than others and you tend to prioritize better and focus on what’s important. What hasn’t changed though is the ability for nostalgia to hit you hard enough to make you home sick especially with the sub zero temperatures and snow storms that box you in the house and makes you ask that dreaded “what am I really doing here” question.

    It made me think of the good old days growing up and enjoying some of the simplest and most cherishable moments life will ever present.

    Don’t know about some readers up in here, but there were times when 5 bob could take you a long long way back in the day. My dad used to give us 5 bob a day and that would cover bus fare to and from school, a soda and a snack of some sort (usually quarter bread bandika) for lunch, and you’d still have left over change to buy roast maize with pili pili or patcos to carry you through the evening.

    Long before the advent of satellite TV with over 20 exclusive movie channels, local entertainment back then was fronted by public service open air movie services like Tazama Mobile Cinema pitched up in an open field once a month to bring to you the blockbuster of the day. They had this strange habit though, of commentating the movie as it went on in a manner that was as equally funny as it was annoying.

    Speaking of entertainment, there were classic shows that would definitely be in my DVD collection right now – From Vioja Mahakamani and the comical antics of the residents of Matopeni, to Vitimbi and the real celebrities like Othorong’ong’o and Masanduku (forget all these latter day celebs who think they’re celebs because…well, anything makes you a celeb these days). There were shows like Tushauriane that were banned outright because they showed a couple embracing and the chap started unblousing the girl. Or even the days when we didn’t have mobile phones and you had to walk a kilometre to the nearest phone box where there was a massive queue of all manner of people – and you’d be mad when your ‘girlfriend to be’ plays hard to get and pulls that stunt of asking you to call later because she’s watching No One But You or The Rich Also Cry. The ungrateful heifer – after all those hours you’ve waited in line to make that call….LOL!

    And how was it that folks could actually watch such shows. The acting was so bad and the love scenes so predictable and drossy. Maybe I just hate them coz’ they cost me many a date.

    Thinking about dates, I miss those day time dates where you save up the whole term and during the holidays you can take the young lady to a respectable restaurant in town followed by a movie. The only down side is that she has to leave by 4.30 pm so that she can get back home in time before her dad and mum arrive from work. It was such little time you didn’t even get the space to express yourself and give yourself a chance to get into her panties. The strategy was always to buy time and charm her enough to warrant the next date – and perhaps you might get the chance to start early enough in the day.

    The most affordable place seemed to be Wimpy on Kenyatta Avenue where you had to contend with their Indian manager always shouting orders at waiters like ”upstairs-downstairs”. But the funny part was the red and blue Bata rubber shoes that they used to wear as part of their uniform. On occasion, some of them would be allowed to wear North stars – but you catch my drift…LOL

    Speaking of the successful dates, there were those comical moments when mathe decides that she’d have lunch that day at home and throw a whole monkey wrench into your programme. Considering your chica has to start her journey back home at kedo 4.00 pm, foreplay would be scheduled for just about lunch time – so you can understand why mathe turning up for lunch is not a plot.

    Your only ally is the mboch who wants to blackmail you for their own ends and reveal to mathe that there’s a girl locked up in the foetal position in the store outside. You think the plot to hide the girl has worked until your mum asks whose shoes are those outside the door – Shoot! You forgot the girl’s shoes and you’re looking at the maid in hope that she’ll bail you out and say they’re for her friend or something….LOL! Even after mathe goes back to work – reviving that foreplay is a monumental project.

    But on the entertainment – I miss shows like This is it whatever happened to Sam Madoka the presenter of the coolest music video show at the time); or Family Affairs that had Mambo and Riziki and their troubled family. On radio, there always seemed to be the same 3 or 4 folks sending salaams on shows like Yours for the Asking. I think there was Robbie Reuben Robbie and Agnetta Machinga who would never miss a shout out on radio. And of course Sundowner with legendary DJ’s like Ike Mulembo.
    And what
    Happened to Kenya’s best known (now he is a celebrity for sure) radio news reader Agao Patrobas. I used to think he was called A gang of robbers. But Patrobas used to front every news bulletin on radio until he became a household name. Legend has it that the reason why he was too good on radio and wasn’t seen on TV was that he was too ugly – but I honestly don’t think so. But a gang of robbers had the mojo for radio.

    There were times that it was so boring during the day in the estates, my best friend and I would wear our Sunday best suits and head for town and just walk around. We would carry them brief case type portfolios and fill them with newspapers and Malkiat Singh text books just to give them substance. If we met someone we knew, they’d be impressed about how sharp and on the ball we were even though we were barely out of school. We’d try to say something intelligent to give our cover story some credence.

    Speaking of Malkiat Singh, that dude had to be my best author during that time. He was either a mega multi-talented factual author of text books on every subject including Christianity, or he was the biggest conman in town. Either way, he trousered millions of shillings from unsuspecting Kenyan students.

    But despite being in town, we would always end up at Jivanjee gardens at lunch time. It was the place to be. If you were lucky, you’d have a few bob to buy some chips and sausage at the only Kenchic in town at the time. Watching those naked chickens rotate on that machine was bad enough knowing you were never going to afford them – but what made Jivanjee gardens interesting is that most if not all of the folks hanging out there were broke like nobody’s business and they all came to pass time and listening to them loud lunch time preachers. But if you looked into the eyes of most of the people, they couldn’t disguise that hunger that oozed out and screamed ”I could murder a bandika and cold Fanta right now”.

    We eventually figured out a way to survive being broke during meal times. We would go to Burma market by City Stadium and in the market, there is a long row of restaurants that do nyama choma. The idea was to pop into every restaurant and ask for a sample which would come on a very small plate. After you had the sample, just respectfully decline the offer of a meal and move on to the next restaurant. By the time you hit 8 or so restaurants, you’d have had a whole meal and all you have to do is ask for a glass of water to drink. It wasn’t glamorous but it worked for sure.

    Down town Nairobi was a very interesting place though. I always thought the funniest part was whenever there was a fracas of some sort, people would just explode and run away in one direction. But if you even asked someone why they were running, they’d scratch their heads and say “I don’t know – people were running”. I never did figure this one out.

    And who can forget the lunch time kiosks along the route to the railway station. I had a friend who used to work with mum and set out to start his own food kiosk called Aluta Continua. The thing was this though, Johnny used to give my best friend and I free meals and once in a while, he’d ask us to run him some errands – collect stock, heavy lifting, that sort of stuff. Sometimes when we got pressurised by girls who were only interested in being taken out for dates in expensive restaurants, we’d get them all dressed up and eventually weave our way to Johnny’s kiosk. There was a bonus for us of course and it’s not just the free meal. If we brought a pretty face it enhanced the equity of the kiosk and was the envy of many others around it – so Johnny would throw in a Fanta madiaba for good measure. Some chicks couldn’t cope and considered it humiliating – LOL, but some took to it like water off a ducks back. You can’t beat fried matumbo and chapos even if you were dressed for a lunch date at Trattoria.
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  • Time really does fly…

    Posted: January 8, 2010, 4:54 pm by Darius Stone

    Has it been a year??? Well, Happy Birthday Stone Cold Haven. Well- belated really, but I couldn’t be arsed backdating this post a few days. Time really does fly. It seems ages since this blog developed a life of its own. Actually, tell a lie, I started the blog on the other platform before I decided to move a few months later to one that I don’t have to fight with (as the local blogging legend may have it).

    It’s been a great year though, and from a blogging point of view, I’ve learnt a lot and I’ve laughed a lot. I hope I’ve given Stone Cold Haven readers as much joy as I’ve had from reading other blogs.

    I wouldn’t have met wonderful people like Kellie who had the privilege of being the first person to leave a comment on my blog; or the schizophrenic 3TOC who cried after reading my tribute to Michael Jackson (at least I can say I’ve made a grown woman cry); or the many blogthren like Farmgal, our girl from the bundux; the girl from Valentia Street; Mo who spent time actually psycho analysing me from my posts; Our Kid my favourite divorce lawyer; Shiko the celebrity blogger (well Zuqka thinks so); Savvy the campus genius; CB the drama queen (btw I’ve upgraded you on the Stone Cold Dramometer) – and all other contributors and lurkers on this blog.

    You will of course forgive me if I’ve left you out of the roll call either by design or inadvertently, but all you all including Kidada (‘acha kupotea Mami), Mystic, Mama, Maua, Mrembo, and all other blogthren – thank you for making 2009 a good year on the blogosphere.

    I’d be lying if I said I haven’t grown up from the experience. From my first post The Ghosts of Christmas past, to other thought provoking penmanship attempts like Why do we rarely ask why?

    I was thinking which was my favourite or most inspiring post and I concluded it has to be the Kenya’s Shotgun wedding post. I think it’s because of the raw emotion and pain I still have about what happened after the 2007 election with the hope of an entire generation that got flushed down the drain because of…well – it’s a long story.

    There were other amusing moments like when all hell broke loose when ’POTUS The Eagle’ landed in central London for the first time to try and sort out the blue eyed white folk who left our economy in a mucking fuddle; or when the Russians decided to shaft us during the winter; or the discussion as to why men should never be anywhere near a delivery room lest they lose all interest in the business end of their partner’s femininity; or a running commentary of my day in therapy; or even my confessions about well….a lot.

    Apart from the Kenyan shotgun wedding post, 2 other posts were very emotional for me – one just acknowledging that we don’t have to go to hell because we already live in it; and the other emotional post being my tribute to Whacko Jacko, simply the greatest entertainer who has ever lived on this planet.

    I even managed to get myself suckered into writing a weekly column for one of the most popular Arsenal blogs (did I mention that I love Arsenal??? Coz if I didn’t, then I thought I’d just clarify that…LOL!)

    It’s been a great 2009 folks and you all have been responsible for making it a great year for the Stone Cold Haven. Happy new year to you all.Related Articles:

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