Friendly Enemy

Kevin had spent several days inside. He felt odd and sad. It was awkward for a man of his age to stay at home. His reliance on Daniel, his wife's young brother, worsened his acute condition. In the past, he had supported Daniel by helping him settle in Nairobi when he first moved there. Kevin was oozing cash back then. Unfortunately, things changed. This promising, enthusiastic young man that could even buy the whole supermarket for his rosy wife had now become dependent on his abrasive and unfocused brother-in-law. Kevin sat pitifully on the hard-wooden coach as he longed for and reminisced on those beautiful days when life was merry and blissful.
Kevin tried desperately to reach his bosom friend Onyewu during these incessant lone moments until he finally found him. Kevin sent a simple text message to the peculiar Onyewu that drew his attention. He had ignored several calls from Kevin. Most people preferred calls to text; Onyewu was different. He never took calls.
Onyewu called Kevin in response to the text. The two long-lost friends engaged in an agreeable, drawn-out conversation of sweet, sentimental memories of their college life that made them desire to relive it. By the end of it, Onyewu demanded that Kevin move immediately to his place so that he could help him pick up his life. Kevin quickly accepted the offer without mulling over it. The trust he had in Onyewu was greater than that of his mother. On top of that, he felt that staying with a friend was more acceptable than staying with a brother-in-law.
In the evening of the following, Kevin called Onyewu to meet as they had immaculately planned. Onyewu did not pick up this call. He repeated this call severally but to no avail. Kevin's infinite trust in Onyewu killed the slightest whiff of doubt about Onyewu that attempted to cross his mind. He believed something wrong must have occurred that made Onyewu unable to respond.
"When he finds time, he will inform me about it," Kevin concluded and slept peacefully.
Despite Kevin holding him in high regard, Onyewu was a seasonal friend that would disappear during the holidays like polar animals during winters. Additionally, Onyewu was so reserved that nobody knew anything concrete about him. Kevin never minded his closure. He was not the sort of person that pressed people to talk about their feelings, emotions, or intimacies. Kevin accepted Onyewu as Onyewu was. After all, Kevin believed that leading a happy life was all that mattered, which they both led through their friendship.
The following morning, he picked up his phone and contacted Onyewu again. Onyewu picked up the call this time and started laughing apologetically to ease things between them. Kevin joined in the laughter too. He was used to getting disappointed in this half-life of Nairobi.
"I know you think I was about to stand you up. It'sIt's a common habit among city folks," Onyewu started lightly.
"I can never doubt you, my friend," Kevin answered.
  Onyewu then explained how his workload had increased the previous day abruptly, making it impossible to meet. Kevin assured him that he had taken no offence.  

The evening was cold and dry. Kevin packed his few countable clothes into his light-brown army backpack that his generous wife had given him. She had taken it from her loving father, whom she always spoke of highly, making Kevin wonder if he would ever meet his high standards. Fortunately, he was now in Nairobi, and his affluent friend, Onyewu, had offered to help him rise again. Kevin bid Daniel a contented goodbye with the hope of never returning there. Kevin boarded a packed and loud bus to town to meet Onyewu.
When the two friends met, it was like the meeting of the long-overdue rains and the drought-ridden drylands. It was evident that days ahead would be bright and leafy. The sweet aroma of the roasted whole chicken and chips filled Onyewu'sOnyewu's bedsitter apartment. A full one-litre coke bottle stood tall on the delicate glass table. The two friends sliced, ate, and drank to their fill as they told old stories that saw them through the late night into the early morning hours. It was like before when they would play FIFA until morning. The only difference was that they had changed over the past six years. They needed time to norm again.
Kevin no longer listened to hip-hop music. There was nothing beneficial to married in music that only talked about sex, money, and women. He had watched many new musicians rise in the hip-hop scene, like Cardi B and Migos. He tried to follow them, but none of them grabbed his attention. Regionally, his favourite Bongo music had taken a new and unpleasant turn. Renowned Bongo artists like Diamond, Harmonize, and Ray Vanny abandoned the typical Bongo beats and adopted new afro beats that disinterested him. Kevin only listened to Mbosso since he kept the real and authentic Bongo music alive.
Like Kevin, Onyewu had abandoned both hip-hop music and FIFA. However, unlike Kevin, Onyewu was a big fan of the new trends Bongo music had taken. He was a big fan of Harmonize. He took offence when Kevin told him that even Ray Vanny was far better than Harmonize, let alone Diamond. At that time,  a scuffle between Bongo music's leading artists, Diamond and Harmonize, caused a giant rift in the industry. Historically, Kevin had loved Diamond. He would not drop him for any artist, including Onyewu'sOnyewu's cherished Harmonize. Thus, the two friends pledged allegiance to opposite sides of the Bongo hostility.

Reggae music had grown and established itself within Kevin's heart. It talked about the retched nature of this Babylonian capitalist world and the great hope for a bright future. It spoke about freedom and justice for the oppressed. It talked about love and the importance of a woman in a man's life. These are the things that a married man and a father, at the brink of futility, wanted to hear. Kevin surprised Onyewu with this absolute change in preferences. Whenever they played the music they now loved, Kevin tried to listen and get into that vibe of his friend's songs while Onyewu ignored his friend's songs and only engaged with his phone.
Like many people across the globe, the two friends loved football. Even though they supported different teams, it never caused a rift in their friendship. Onyewu, a staunch supporter of Chelsea FC, sat with his friend in his thick, expensive coach one Saturday evening to watch the much-anticipated match between Chelsea FC and Manchester City FC. There was a lot of hype, especially among Chelsea supporters, who ran out of superlatives to applaud the newly appointed coach, Frank Lampard, who was also a legend for the club.
Kevin always admired Chelsea, especially when it had an exceptionally high number of black players like the lethal striker Didier Drogba, powerhouse midfielder Michael Essien, French international Nicholas Anelka, explosive winger Solomon Kalou, and the determined Florent Malouda. The team was a force to reckon with. He, too, was hoping Chelsea could upstage Manchester City. However, unlike Onyewu, he knew the chances of that happening were slim. Kevin had seen Chelsea suffer draws and defeats at the hands of meagre teams like Sheffield United FC and Norwich FC. Thus, he was not raising his hopes to the roof.
The match started with Chelsea dominating possession and playing aggressively. Within four minutes, the young and promising Chelsea striker Tammy Abraham slotted the ball in the bottom right corner of their opponent'sopponent's net, making Onyewu jump high as he screamed goal.
"I told you that we are winning this match," Onyewu reaffirmed confidently.
Kevin, aware that his friend loathed opposing views, applauded Chelsea FC lightly, then kept quiet as he observed the match keenly.
After another thirty minutes, the unstoppable Manchester City FC struck Chelsea FC with a simple equalizer from the legendary Aguero that silenced Onyewu'sOnyewu's bickering mouth. A few minutes later, the enthusiastic Sterling added another decisive goal that sent Onyewu to his warm, comfy bed. He often gave up quickly. The match ended three to one, a typical Manchester City victory.
The following day, Onyewu, still pissed off with the Chelsea loss, brought up the conversation about the match again at the dinner table.
"I know you pretended to support us yesterday," Onyewu commented irately.
"Chelsea has been playing good football. However, Lampard'sLampard's resolve to use those inexperienced kids will greatly hurt your team. Big matches don't just need the flair that youth brings. It needs experience that comes with caution and grit. Untried defenders cannot bar City's world-class trio of Sterling, Aguero, and Silva. It was a game Chelsea FC was bound to lose just upon observing the lineup Lampard selected."
"I knew you pretended to support us," Onyewu replied as he grimly stared at his friend. Then he changed the direction of the talk.
"Kevin, my cousin just finished his high school exams. He wants to spend time with me. He is coming on Friday. As you can see, this space is too small to accommodate the three of us. Go home before Friday. Then you will return in January when your program with Yusudi starts."
Kevin meekly agreed to leave for home even though he had planned and coordinated with Onyewu to spend the December holidays there. In the cold and dusty Nairobi weather the following morning, he packed his clothes and left for Kisumu.

Kevin was thrilled to see his family after staying away from them for six weeks. He found his daughter Joyce with scars from chickenpox all over her body. He felt guilty not being there with them throughout this challenging period. When Joyce sat on his lap, she made him promise never to leave them again. Kevin pledged not to go, although he knew it was a lie. For the first time, Kevin wished a lie come true. It was his first time staying away from his family, which gravely aggrieved him.

Onyewu never picked up Kevin's calls when Kevin called to inform him that he had arrived safely home. Kevin tried reaching Onyewu throughout December in vain. Although Onyewu read his WhatsApp messages as the double blue ticks confirmed, he did not blink an eye by responding to any of them. Kevin kept faith that that was Onyewu's nature. He never talked to people out of sight. Soon, they would meet again, and everything would be fine.
Unfortunately, on the morning of the first of January, Kevin woke up to this jaw-dropping message from Onyewu that read, "I have decided to withdraw all the help that I offered you. It seems you do not trust me; that is why you keep writing me messages and calling me."
This cruel message astounded Kevin, so he called his supportive wife to help him absorb this nasty surprise.
She genuinely felt sorry for her naïve husband but was unsurprised by this turn of events.
"Nicholas had told me that Onyewu could never be trusted. I have been reluctant to say this to you since you never like me speaking ill of anybody or anything. However, I let the cat loose since what I expected has occurred.
"There was a time in college when Onyewu locked you and Nicholas out of his room. You kept calling him to let you in, but he refused to open it and made you walk away embarrassed. Mark you; he was your closest friend back then. Many years have passed now without seeing each other. It is hard to fathom that you could trust such a childish man."

Human Beasts

 "Animals are worse than humans. See that cock beating his tied opponent pitilessly. The wild thing about animals is that when their opponents are at their weakest point, they see it as an opportunity to eliminate them. 

"Unlike them, we, humans, show much care and compassion. We recognize our fellows lowest points, and empathize with them. We are far better in love than animals," Ngala recollected Owalo's sentiments.

However, he strongly disagreed with Owalo. 

 "There is nothing good about humans. They are more opportunistic and devouring than other animals.

"People have brains, but their actions prove that brawn is much better. Their greed, enveloped in sweet terms like civilization and development, has destroyed the environment, eradicated several other species, and sown deep seeds of hatred among themselves. That is why men keep fighting over petty things like religion, race, ethnicity, and traditions. No wonder they came up with this fallacious idea of 'survival for the fittest' and make it appear normal by supporting it with the idea of 'natural selection.'" 

Ngala alighted at Tom Mboya Street and headed for KenCom to wait for his high school classmate, Obonyo. Twelve years had passed since he last saw him. Now that he was in Nairobi, it was necessary to have good old friends close. He was desperate to stabilize his staggering life. He sat on a "depression" seat nearby and observed passengers boarding the several huge KBS buses at the stage. 

"Nairobi carries hoards of humanity," Ngala pondered. "A single city produces sixty percent of the nation's GDP, a massively uneven distribution of resources," he mumbled. "Sixty percent of the nation's production occurs in this city, yet it carries less than ten percent of its population. This situation is highly unfair to over ninety percent of poor Kenyans who don't live here. 

 "Must we all crowd this overstretched city to get jobs?" 

Then Ngala saw a man rolling up the front side window of a KBS bus to avoid speaking to a lady. The woman was left red-faced as she stood confused beside the vehicle.

"Is it necessary? Must he embarrass her publicly? She did not approach his window, shouting or doing anything out of order," Ngala mumbled again as he watched in disbelief. "Humans have become so ignorant of other people's feelings. We only see our hurt and anger. People do not take time to feel other people; like that haughty man."

Suddenly, Ngala's phone rang. It was Obonyo calling him. 

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Have you arrived?"

"Yes. I am standing here below a traffic light besides KenCom building. In front of me is a lousy crowd watching a busy band shooting a gospel music video."

"I know that place.I am coming there. Give me thirty seconds."

When Ngala and Obonyo met, they greeted each other warmly like two great childhood friends meeting for the first time when old.

Obonyo had not changed except for the trim beard he had grown. He was in great shape, like one of those few people enjoying the rare fruits of this unbridled capitalism. 

They walked into Cafedeli, a high-end restaurant along the busy Moi Avenue, and sat confidently like the wealthy foreigners around them.

"Boss, bring me a glass of strawberry milkshake and get him a cup of white coffee and two beef samosas," Obonyo ordered.

"My friend, you are one of the few people eating their education," Ngala followed up that order with this witty comment aimed at his friend.

"Do not worry; your time will come," Obonyo responded.

The waiter brought the food. Ngala's plate had two samosas, sliced tomato and lemon, and a small sauce dish. His cup had a thick and robust white coffee, proof of its high grade.

"Kenya is a significant producer of tea and coffee globally, yet we drink the lowest grades of the two products. One has to visit classy restaurants like this that are typically for these wealthy foreigners to get such a strong and sweet cup of coffee. 

 "Now we are here with them. That is why when I say you are eating your education; I firmly mean it."

Obonyo laughed.

"I am sorry about your loss. I mean, your mom," Ngala said remorsefully. 

"It's a pain hard to bear. 

"She had an accident at the flyover in Nyamasaria. 

 "She had hired a trailer to move her grains to Kondele. The vehicle lost balance and tipped over the edge protection as the driver oversped while passing through the sharp bend of the flyover. They fell down the highway below," Obonyo paused.

"The sad part is people rushed for the container behind to loot grain instead of rescuing her and the driver. 

 "Those who tried saving her later stole her purse." 

Tears welled in both eyes as they stared at the light-brown soft board table without noticing it. Ngala did not know what to say.

"That is wicked," Ngala mumbled suddenly.

 "Are such actions motivated by poverty or greed? 

 "It must be greed," Ngala thought assertively. 

 "How can one steal from a dying person? How can one put bread above life? 

"Life had become so meaningless that it was reasonable to let a person die.

 "Or was this the paradox of life? Others die as others fight for the resources the dying are laeving to live. Was survival for the fittest at play here again?"

A man should expect nothing from his fellow man in this capitalist system. It holds that only the strong, capable, and fit deserve to live. A man should expect nothing from these world religions that serve to advance the interests of unrestricted capitalism. In the Bible, people read God charging the Jews to murder and destroy other tribes. Were not those tribes God's creations? Man has become hopeless, and whoever thinks religion promotes morality and humanity needs to think again objectively.

"Recently the Kenya Bureau of Statistics released the 2019 Census Report," Ngala started again. "One key statistic is the nation's fertility rate that has dropped to about 3.8. This shows our population will reach a replacement level in the next few decades."

"What do you mean by fertility rate and the replacement level," Obonyo inquired.

"Fertility rate is the average number of children in a family. Replacement level is a situation where a country has a fertility rate of 2. This occurrence implies that most families mainly have two children that act as replacements for their parents when the parents die. In such a situation, the population remains relatively constant. 

"Our low fertility rate shows that Kenyans are aggressively responding to the economic stress they have faced over the last decade. 

"Look at you. You are thirty yet you have no plans to marry. This shows that in as much as you reap these benefits of capitalism, capitalism still does not assure you that you need to start a family." 

 "That's true. I work hard. I work a lot. Rarely do I get free time for anything — not even for courtship. 

"You've made me remember. Sorry, I need to leave now. I must finish a client's project before tomorrow. I'll settle the bill. We will meet again soon."

"Okay."

They both rose and walked away.

Why Language Choice is Crucial in a Film’s Success

 

"Bloody Indians. Can't you read English?" a British soldier scornfully asks Manikarnika.

"I can read English. It's a mere language. Just words. Words without culture have no meaning." Manikarnika responds. 

 It has always been that way. Language is part of a culture. Language goes hand in hand with culture. You cannot separate the two and expect to pass a message. Film producers and directors must be careful when selecting the language in their films and television series. When you choose a language that does not match the culture of your setting, then your work is bound to fail. I have seen how Kenyan producers grapple with the choice of language for use in their films and tv series. 

 Kenya has several local languages. Then there is Kiswahili, the national language, and English, the official language. Most Kenyan producers select English for their production. That is why they fail, and the Kenyan film industry remains stunted. 

Creating a Kenyan movie in English is suicidal. Virtually, Kenyans do not speak English at home or even at work. English is a language of official papers and documents only. Most Kenyans speak Kiswahili or their mother tongue. Thus, when a film is in English, it becomes unrealistic and boring at best.

A Kenyan tv series, Makutano Junction, was produced in English. It failed to attract public attention because it used English. The portrayal of a local chief, politicians, and market women speaking English buried it. Virtually no local leader in Kenya speaks to residents in English. Additionally, no market women speak English among themselves and their customers in this nation. People could not watch it since it did not show the genuine Kenyan society. It needed to speak the language Kenyans understand.

A film needs to be accurate to succeed. A film achieves reality only when it upholds the culture of its setting. That is why India's, Nigeria's, and Tanzania's film industries are experiencing immense growth today. They are true to their cultural settings. Indians produce their movies in Hindi, Bengali, Marathi, Telugu, and other local languages. Those are the languages most Indians speak. These are the suitable languages to use to depict a particular issue in Indian society successfully. Using a foreign language in an Indian film is like producing a Nazi film in Kiswahili.

 Most Nigerian films use Nigerian pidgin English, the most common language in Nigeria. Most people love these movies since pidgin English helps them portray authentic Nigerian society. 

The Tanzanian film industry has also emerged strongly due to its use of Kiswahili, Tanzania's national language. Its films and tv series, such as Huba and Kapuni, are popular across East Africa due to their use of Kiswahili. Thus, one learns that realism is the key to the success of a film, and language plays a crucial role in making a film genuine. 

Besides foreign languages making films unreal, they also make actors struggle to perform. In Makutano Junction, several actors struggle to express themselves and their emotions in English. The actors in Indian films produced in English also struggle a lot with using English. These struggles result in low-quality films since actors need to express themselves better, damaging their producers' reputations. 

 

Unfortunately, most producers argue that they must use English in their creations because it makes them reach a wider audience. They should know that using English does them more harm than good. It makes them produce substandard films that cannot relate to and communicate to any audience. Additionally, they should learn from Indian, Nigerian, and Tanzanian film industries that one can only reach, penetrate and establish themselves in the international arena by being authentic in his production. Indian films are typical in Kenya, yet very few Kenyans speak Hindi. Hollywood films dominate the world because they are true to the American culture rather than because many people understand English. 

Culturally-relevant language makes a film real. Thus films must be culturally competent by using the appropriate language to achieve success. This simple trick shows why a series like Selina have gained national fame. Producers, choose your productions' languages wisely.