about Nairobi english...the accent...well its from Nairobi! leafy green suburbs.
about being scared! you used to eat in those places! the difference between you and those bag packing odieros that eat in cheap places is that while its a new experience for them - wewe uilkuwa unafurahia mbaka unalamba vidole. anyway - utajuaje uko kenya kama hakuna 'flies' or 'people breathing down your neck'?

about Nairobi english...the accent...well its from Nairobi! leafy green suburbs.
about being scared! you used to eat in those places! the difference between you and those bag packing odieros that eat in cheap places is that while its a new experience for them - wewe uilkuwa unafurahia mbaka unalamba vidole. anyway - utajuaje uko kenya kama hakuna 'flies' or 'people breathing down your neck'?

That was just mare fact and truth @Nabwire....I see u

By PETER WANYONYI

The first thing visitors notice when they land in a Banana Republic is the stench. It is pervasive and overpowering, and the cause soon becomes clear — mountain upon mountain of putrid, rotting garbage, mostly strewn by the roadside. Scrawny cows belonging to one or other pastoralist, nomadic tribe — unwilling or unable to make the break into the 20th century, let alone the 21st — graze forlornly on the garbage. They eat everything from plastic bags to moulding scraps of discarded human food. The cows are not alone. Feral goats and mangy dogs are everywhere, and scavenging crows strut about on the garbage as if it is their own territory.

Smuggle

The garbage mounts and roads that are only so called for lack of a better word accompany herds of animals. In Banana republics, priorities are usually upside down. The roads leading from airports and other entry points are usually under the custody of the local transportation authority. Transportation authorities are lucrative things; one can smuggle so much stuff in and out of the country without having to pay taxes, if one knows the right people. As a result, transportation authorities and related bodies in Banana republics are always under the custody of someone from the president’s tribe. This helps to ensure total loyalty, so much the better to sneak stuff in — from illegal weapons to drugs, and out — from wildlife trophies to poached ivory.

With the transport authority being run by people appointed not on merit but because of their tribes, neglect is everywhere. The road leading from the airport or port is in tatters. “Road” is a misnomer — it is more of a cattle track. But the visitor remembers that this is, in fact, an improvement on the airport itself, which — for lack of a better word — is essentially a disaster zone. The visitor will be reminded of this chaotic facility when leaving Banana Republic for home. This is after a short while holidaying in “paradise”, a universal Western term used to refer to places that are too primitive to be rustic and too chaotic to be normal. As the visitor arrives at the departure terminal, the airport abandons all pretenses at civility.

Nonchalantly

The policemen manning the security doors openly solicit bribes. After paying them off, the visitor is confronted by the astonishing sight that is the departures terminal at the main airport of Banana Republic.

The fire exit has stern “keep clear” warning, but this is ignored; cardboard boxes and old canvas advertising hoardings lean nonchalantly against the fire exit doors. At the documents check desk, the lady in charge is asleep, snoring loudly — maybe because its 3am, anyway. At the departure desks, check-in clerks eat snacks. The airport is shockingly dirty — but this is little surprise, for Banana Republics are not too big on cleanliness, anyway!

Worry not, this scene is the same in all Banana Republics — they are all made in the image of incompetence and uselessness!

......and they are fighting back!!!!

That was just mare fact and truth @Nabwire....I see u