MCA Gwinso
We will forever remain grateful to our County government for funding us MCAs to attend the Sixth Devolution Conference, we got all sorts of allowances in addition to the regular per diem.
As soon as we collected the monies, I teamed up with MCA Chonjo. This was one colleague I could count on to provide excellent company in a new place. Without further delay, we set out for Kirinyaga county.
“Bwana Gwinso, lazima tujipange. Have you been to Kirinyaga before?” Chonjo asked. “No.” “Neither have I. Let’s go tour the county.” “Na conference je?” I asked.
Chonjo gave me a look normally reserved for irredeemable imbeciles and then asked, “Is there anything you will learn in that conference that you don’t know already?”
“No,” I responded. “Then let’s discover Kirinyaga, Bwana,” he said and began singing ‘Afro mtoto wa Sagana, Kirinyaga’.
We arrived at a town called Kutus, but found all accommodation places booked. We were advised to search for space in Embu Town where we found some rooms. I suggested we first go to the conference venue, but Chonjo would hear none of this. We quickly located an entertainment spot.
“Listen Gwinso, we have to be clever. This is what we shall do. From now on, I am the Deputy Governor of our county and you are the Assembly Speaker.”
Now, there are some things I can do and some I cannot. This was one of those things I wasn’t willing to do. When he insisted on carrying out his deceit, I told him plainly that we would have to part ways. So I moved and sat at a separate table. From my new sitting position, I saw Chonjo summoning a waiter in a rather bossy manner. A short while later, I saw people greeting him reverentially. There was no doubt word had spread that there was a VIP in the house.
Soon, a live band came to the stage and started belting out tunes in praise of our county, its governor and its deputy governor ‘who was in the house’. After a short while I saw the ‘deputy governor’ wobble towards the stage and talk to one of the musicians. To my surprise, he was given a microphone.
“I… will song you a sing about our county,” he said. I could not stomach this, so I stood and headed for the stage. I whispered to him to forget about singing and go back to his seat.
“Who are you? Leave me alone,” he snarled. Before I knew what was happening, I was being frog marched out of the club. “Unataka kuibia governor, sindio?” barked one of the hefty men holding me by the waistband. My protests that I was an MCA fell on deaf ears.
With much effort, I located my hotel room. Attempts to reach MCA Chonjo were fruitless since his phone was switched off.
It is now three days since the conference ended and I have not heard from MCA Chonjo. Anyway, I believe he is safe somewhere in Kirinyaga County kwa raha zake.