Tunatoka digital tunaenda analogue!

Tunatoka digital tunaenda analogue!

“Hutuwezi tukaweza”

“Sitanunua… kwa nini ninunue?”

“Nikona mahitaji mengi kama kulipa fee, rent na chakula”

“Hiyo sanduku nitatoa nje niwekee kuku itangie mayai”

“Utaenda kwa neighbor?”/  “La! Kwa nini niende kwake? Na akisema nadoea?”

“Wengine wetu tumeokoka na hatuwezi tukaenda kutazama TV kwa bar”

BY MUSYOKA NGUI

These are some of the reactions which Nairobians shot back at a popular local radio when they were asked if they will acquire a set top box in order to migrate from analogue TV to digital TV.

Apparently, the grace period to own a decoder had elapsed and the government moved in to implement the rule.

The wananchi clearly did not want such change. They saw it as an affront to their right to access information. They even cited Article 34 and 35 as a reference to their claims.

Parents said that their children were bored stiff by the closure of the three leading TV stations namely: KTN, Citizen TV and NTV. They made do with DVDs and CDs which offered limited choices of entertainment. Boredom can be really monotonous. The day stops growing and the sun stands still in the space.

There are genuine reasons why the local TV stations moved to court to seek justice. First, they were not given frequency and licenses to broadcast by the Communication Commission of Kenya (CCK). This implied that their content (which I think is superior) will be carried by their competitors. KBC’s Signet and a Chinese firm called PANG (Pan-Africa Network Group) were given exclusive rights to implement the digital migration.

Now, tell me how logical is it to give an interested party the right to broadcast on behalf of its rivals. Is government to government tendering process the most transparent way of contracting? Why give a foreign firm the right to invade fragile local market yet the home media houses can do what a foreign firm wants to do?

The rushed migration also raises eyebrows. It makes the hair stand on the skin of the media practitioners. The world deadline to switch off from the old to new is two years away meaning we have all the way to 2015 to be considered last minuters.

Talking of the alien nature of the concept of time to Kenyans, let’s be frank-they never observe time. They are the crudest copy of African timers. They are neither disciplined nor reliable. They do not honor flexible deadlines leave alone tight ones. They will register for elections late, register their simcards late, wake up late for Monday job and idle around.

Thus, I was not surprised that Kenyans who were able to buy set top boxes were unwilling to buy the same. I can even extrapolate this theory and say that the 2015 deadline will catch us pants down. We will claim that we never saw it coming.

What I found pretty costly was the colossal losses that the media houses stood to lose if the impromptu migration took place. It was rude and unprepared. While I understand that this matter is still a subject of court and my comment should not amount to contempt of court, I am willing to set the record straight on some few lay and general implications of the switch over.

I appreciate the wise ruling of the Court of Appeal bench led by President Hon. Justice Kihara Kariuki. It gave the media owners a breather. The 45 day window of opportunity they are given should be used to consult among the stakeholders. It is important for the CCK and media houses to agree about the best way forward.

Senior Counsel Paul Kibungi Muite is the lawyer for the trio media. He said that the media does not oppose the migration. Actually, it supports the switch. What they pray for is the CCK to give them a license and a frequency. They are worried that the CCK is losing independence to enable it oversee the media houses impartially. This was after it emerged that the CCK acted on orders by the ICT Cabinet Secretary Dr. Fred Matiang’i seeking an explanation why the leading TVs went off air without informing and explaining to CCK. Mind you the earlier High Court order by Justice David Majanja did not give the media houses stay orders. They then had to go off air since continued broadcast amounted to disobeying the court.

The government should subsidize the set top boxes to make them affordable to common citizens. This is the tradition in successful digital migrations such as in the US and Tanzania. The government also must arrest runway inflation that has eroded the purchasing power of ordinary Kenyans. The cartels and unscrupulous dealers need to be stopped in their tracks. For example where is the Consumer Federation of Kenya (Cofek) when the consumers are being fleeced?

The digital television offers a wide array of channels. It also gives crisp clear pictures and can be customized by the viewer. No one wants to remain in the past. It is taxing to watch “rice grains” on TV.

Whichever way you look at it, good things are not free. Let’s learn to pay the price for our own good. The broadcasters need the revenue from advertising. This cannot happen when the penetration of digital TVs is a paltry 10 per cent.  Viewers, if you love your favorite TV channel, buy the digital set top box. If you love it passionately, subscribe for the premium version. You will never regret. The benefits will give you the value for your money. Tunatoka digital tunaenda analogue!

The writer is a 3^rd year student of Bachelors of Arts Degree in Communication and Media at Chuka University. He blogs at musyokangui.blogspot.com

Email your thoughts to musyokangui02@gmail.com

Special Edition: Christmas and Happy New Year Coverage

Special Edition: Christmas and Happy New Year Coverage

Say thank you this Christmas

“Love me because of who and what I am. What will you love when all the fortune is gone? Does it mean that I am nothing if I do not have money?

 BY MUSYOKA NGUI

Christians all over the world celebrate Christmas to mark the birth of Jesus Christ- their savior. It is a religious festival which is observed by billions.

Though this day December 25 come and pass as any other religious ritual, we have not thought about it as we would want. Some activities that accompany the festivities are ludicrous. People eat and eat. Others drink silly. The worst they do is to take to the road in drunken state. The Christmas season is riddled with massive losses of lives on our roads due to irresponsible over indulgence.

To others this is the time to take stock. They set New Year’s resolutions and chart their desired path. Truth is one does not need to wait for December to set ambitious targets. Any day of the year is as good.

As happens with most of Kenyans’ activities, Christmas is not devoid of euphoria and hype. People just do things in large scale like January will take care of itself. January remains the most nightmarish month. This is because it finds the holiday makers broke and steeped on unprecented loans.

Do we have to go that far in search for happiness? Can we get a reasonable pleasure in everyday engagement with fellow humanity?

It is a controversial subject on whether or not money can buy happiness. Some say no romance without finance. Others contend that they better sleep in a shack than in an uptown villa with tears.

But really, if we want we can strike a balance. We can get pleasure and leisure without breaking the bank. One way of doing this is by being realistic. Realism is a pillar for setting goals as is for philosophy. When we get real we are able to manage our expectations and work with what we have.

There is no need of sinking into extravagance and losing our heads as we struggle to update our statuses. Fine, buy that special someone a gift or gifts, surprise them until you stop their hearts momentarily, do that and more. But do not love me because of what I have. Love me because of who and what I am. What will you love when all the fortune is gone? Does it mean that I am nothing if I do not have money?

Yes, bills have to be paid. Someone will work hard. It is evil to peg one’s worth on monetary measures. Gender theorists have warned countless times about the unquantifiable nature of human beings especially the ones we take for granted. The ones we think and assume they count little like spouses, friends, siblings and the watchman.

Methinks the bottom-line about the entire season is appreciation. This is the time to count your blessings and say thank you to everyone who has made you. Make it clear that your friend know that you do not assume them. That you do not take them for granted.

Learn to WANT what you HAVE. Look within yourself and find out that you have some underutilized potential and endeavor to exploit it to the fullest this 2014.

Remember the less fortunate like the poor, the orphans, the disabled and the sick. Keep them in your thoughts and do some think to make a difference in their lives. Let’s not just do it for Christmas but for the whole year and for the rest of our lives.

I wish you Merry Christmas and a prosperous Happy New Year 2014!

The writer is a 3^rd year student of Bachelors of Arts Degree in Communication and Media at Chuka University. He blogs at musyokangui.blogspot.com

Email your thoughts to musyokangui02@gmail.com

Kenya is 50/50

Kenya is 50/50

“I thought that the children are the future. Do Kenyan children really count in the development of this country? Are they just there to be told wait for tomorrow? “You are the leaders of tomorrow!” That is a very depressing statement from any adult leader whether a parent or a politician to tell a kid to wait. Wait for what? What you can do today do it now. Procrastination and change of goals are the cancer gnawing the soul of this country.  

Kenya celebrated Golden Jubilee this Jamhuri day.  It was marked with pomp and colour. Opinion is divided on whether or not the KSh. 500 million spent to hold that historic event was justified.

I had decided to carry an in-depth feature about the celebrations. The mainstream media went all out to cover it on acres of newspapers, minutes of radio airspace and hours of TV videos. I took to the internet to see what they were up to in their celebrations of Kenya@50. I did not carry the story because it had no news value given it came against the backdrop of the death of Mandela and I had to make my judgment on what to publish.

The beauty with the internet is there are millions of contributors and there is no such a thing as monopoly of information. Everyone can and do contribute. For the most part, internet content does not suffer the political correctness and compromise of the regular mass channels. The blogosphere and social media sites are the new frontiers of shaping public opinion and agenda. There are blunt, unapologetic and fresh.

It is in the social media where you will get creative comments such as: najihurumia kuwa Mkenya, 50 years of making mistakes, there are only two tribes in Kenya; the rich and the poor and Kenya ikona wenyewe.

Kenya is 50 years young. It is not 50 years old. During those years it has achieved universal education, expanded infrastructure such as roads, electricity and plans are ready to acquire standard gauge railway as well as renovate Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. It is fondly called the island of peace in a sea of coup d’états, political violence and dictatorship. When tourists board airplanes to Africa they want to be received by the warm land of hakuna matata. They return with Maasai souvenirs to advertise Kenya to the world.

Sadly, Kenyans themselves have seen little to be truly proud of their country. The standards of living are unaffordable. Prices of basic commodities could not go higher. The fuel cartels milk the taxpayer until she bleeds. There is rampant corruption everywhere. The youth unemployment is a national scourge. This exposes the young people to indecent activities such as crime and despair. What is the future of a nation whose youths are hopeless and marginalized?

I thought that the children are the future. Do Kenyan children really count in the development of this country? Are they just there to be told wait for tomorrow? “You are the leaders of tomorrow!” That is a very depressing statement from any adult leader whether a parent or a politician to tell a kid to wait. Wait for what? What you can do today do it now. Procrastination and change of goals are the cancer gnawing the soul of this country.

At independence Kenya was at par in terms of economic development with Asian tigers like Malaysia and Korea. Successive leaderships ran down this republic. It is a kiosk which operates on credit.

Will the next 50 years be more democratic? More free? More promising? Will Kenya realize the Vision 2030 dream of being a middle income economy?

In 2063, Kenya will celebrate a century. By then, I hope the following will be realized: reduce the number of members of parliament, senators and women representatives and county assembly members, bridge the yawning divide between the haves and have nots, strengthen  devolution and have a productive and healthy population.

The writer is a 3^rd year student of Bachelors of Arts Degree in Communication and Media at Chuka University. He blogs at musyokangui.blogspot.com

Email your thoughts to musyokangui02@gmail.com

Secular and religious bashes: A comparison

Secular and religious bashes: A comparison

“Steve Mbego is thought to have consumed the banana leaves because no one traced the remains of his food. He tilted the mouth of a Krest and the last thing I saw was bubbles. He drank carbon dioxide and the ginger ale in a flash. And in the end he felt nothing. People joked that he begged for more.

This past week I had the privilege of gracing two totally different social gatherings. One was a journalism club end of year bash and the other was a Christian union intercessors’ end of semester get together.

Two weeks ago, Journalism Club laid down elaborate and ambitious plans to have a different sign out of the year. The members unanimously agreed that days of picking biscuits and a crate of soda and heading for the retreat are long gone. They agreed to part with KSh. 200 each so that they buy a whole goat for the event. The only matter of contention was the venue and who will cook. Everything else was running like clockwork until the moment of putting action on a verb came.

And so a fortnight is not a long time given everyone is in a perpetual mad rush to close the semester. What with looming exams and festivals? Thus when I was reminded by the organizers that the others are in the field playing hide and seek and other children games I was jolted to nostalgia. I had to excuse myself by telling a believable lie until they get serious items to undertake so that I sneak in.

It was on a Saturday and for the most part the sun shone. But came the afternoon session the clouds threatened to dampen the otherwise excited mood of the participants.

Common sense dictated that we exercise so that we ward off cold. The children games were revisited. One game aped rugby only that the runners were to run until they are caught then they stood still on the spot amid the gasping of their captor who by now is catching a breath with sweat dripping from forehead and other centers of action if you know what I mean. Without trying I found that game so demanding and fit for those struggling to lose weight and cut fat.

I stood and watched like a spectator. Soon another item on the agenda was introduced. We sat on the lawn in a circle. A rope was snaked out of a bag and instructions were issued. “I went shopping for a rope until I could not get a seller. Is it you? Is it you? ” When the shopper drops the rope at your back (remember you are seated), you are supposed to run in the opposite direction full circle then the “seller” also runs in the opposite direction. If the seller completes the round before the buyer, the buyer continues shopping meaning you continue running until you found someone you could defeat so that you get a chance to relax. Two runners did their circumference and I laughed at how an endowed member can outrun a trim one. Without warning the rope was dropped smack at my back. I was startled on which side to run. By now the buyer is half the circle running like a night runner and I have no clue.  Before I did a quarter I was defeated meaning I continue marathoning.

I had to use my head not heart. I jogged singing “I went shopping to buy a rope/ It is not you/” times five. All of a sudden I dropped the rope and ran wildly in the opposite direction. The person I thought I would defeat finished the run at the same time as me. I crushed into his face with a booming collision. I felt as if my skull was dented and my wrist joint got dislocated. As if not to empathize with me the other players said curtly that I am not done and I should dust myself and run again.

This time round I got an underdog unawares. I targeted a lady whose hobby is walking like a chameleon. I dropped the rope smack at her hips and run assured that the anticlockwise direction was a one long tape I can cut anywhere with my sprinting scissors. I won. The earlier opponent was a man and you can imagine how men cling to hopes even when they are hanging on a string they always believe it will not snap. This was further complicated by the massive turn out of ladies dressed in reclined costumes.

The mother of all plays came when most least expected. Like manna from heaven, loaves were distributed to six competitors and each given a bottle of soda. They were timed. All manner of tactics were employed including working up salivary glands and compressing the 400 grams of wheat. My, you didn’t tell me that it is air and holes. Eric Munene pressed his until it looked like a fist before sinking his incisors. Zain got it rough. She wetted the loaf in the false believe that it will be softer to her throat and grant her a win. Instead her soda got exhausted midway. Someone had to chip in and refill her bottle with water. Any wonder she finished last?

I wonder how Simon Ritho the topdog got knocked out of the competition. After starting at high speed he slowed down and forgot he was in a competition. He looked like he was eating breakfast.  Oooh I see!  A few minutes ago, he had participated in a banana and soda competition which he also lost. I came forth out of five. Anyway, I did not expect to win.

Steve Mbego is thought to have consumed the banana leaves because no one traced the remains of his food. He tilted the mouth of a Krest and the last thing I saw was bubbles. He drank carbon dioxide and the ginger ale in a flash. And in the end he felt nothing. People joked that he begged for more.

I hate hopping and jogging but could not resist the creativity of donning a sack like a teacher on strike or the Biblical Mordecai but this time round going with the sack to the finish line. Zain took a stab at the sack. As if she was born on Monday, she bore all the bureaucracy of waking up and cursing the sun against the reality that the boss is waiting for her at the work place. She was frustrated by being given a sack half her size. She could not fit. She was then given an oversize that she kept adjusting. Mwangangi, the former Journalism Club Chair, was expected to win but I do not know what happened at the finish line. Someone with a muscle of a frog edged him. Mwangangi looked wowed like Kibaki when Usain Bolt flashed his trademark sign before him.

The spoon- potato race was unexciting and marred with false starts. Vincent Kibet grabbed the potato and the steel and sped off leaving those who patiently balanced the potatoes behind.

The referee complained and warned the offending player. They got back to the starting line. As they ran the rains ran behind them. We rushed to the pavilion to shelter. I guess behind our back, Kibet still grabbed his potato and won. They later joined us at the pavilion.

We saved the best for the last. It was time to head to Godka Restaurant and munch nyamachoma and ugali. The rains subsided. Some walked others hired a cab. What matters is that we arrived safely. Another striking difference is that there were more non-journalism club friends than the insiders. The regulars will rue the day they decided to snub the party.

Between four and six in the evening the jaws were working hard. Chrispin Magak got a raw deal since as a vegetarian, I and Martin Wachira offloaded his meats to our plates yet he paid KSh. 200. He only fed on scattered sukuma wiki and waited forever for ugali to come. After he had finished vegetables he was given ugali to “follow”.

Darkness arrived with drizzles and our wisdom demanded that we take cab home.

The following night it was different cast and script. I attended the CU intercessors get together in a quiet bedsitter labeled Number 13 at JK Hostels. I am not an intercessor myself. When Regina, my hostel mate invited me to the party I told her I will be bored. Since admission I have shied away from Christian events as I thought they were boring and conventionally conservative. She had a game and a form.  She started by borrowing me plates and spoons and later chairs. I popped in and out of number 13 with whetted appetite. They were cooking chapattis and playing gospel hits.

By around 11 pm the music went quiet and the table was crowded with foods and drinks. What fascinated me are their rules of introduction. One had to state their full names, their home county, their likes and dislikes and imagine: their marital status. The final one involved taking the guest to task to explain what they meant by being single, complicated, on-it, taken and/or out of the market.

The CU guys were more organized and sticker to protocols. I learned a new lingo called Mungu ataongea(God will speak). This was consolation for the virgins in the house to press on with their principles and for the been theres and done thats to know that there is still life beyond heartbreaks and sobs.

In terms of contribution, the CU friends contributed only 50 bob and had all they wanted. They cooked for themselves and were disciplined.  As for Journalism thugs, they were constantly reminded to pay up the remaining bit of rwabe (200 shillings). But it was not too much to ask since the treasures of Christians are at heaven and they are not materialistic. The scribes wanted attention and look-at-me feel. They wanted to be seen carrying big speakers, dancing and uploading pictures on the social media.

The intercessors did it for God. They always addressed each other as brother and sister amid countless amens.

In the final analysis both groups socialized and bonded. That is the common denominator. In this festive season touch a person with a message of peace and goodwill. Help the less fortunate.  I wish you success in your examinations.

The writer is a 3^rd year student of Bachelors of Arts Degree in Communication and Media at Chuka University. He blogs at musyokangui.blogspot.com

Email your thoughts to musyokangui02@gmail.com