Youths during Gen Z protests in Nairobi. [File, Standard]
A recent Standard headline painted the real picture of a nation that smiles when others mourn and laughs when the leading class sob. The English language, with all its opulence, lacked an exact word that they had to borrow from the Germans and the Greeks. Even our local languages have no such word, because our society has never been this cruel.
The word schadenfreude originates from the German lexicon, a compound of Schaden (harm) and Freude (joy). It is that happiness that creeps upon the human heart at the sight of another’s pain. Even more obscure, though older, is epicaricacy, a Greek relic meaning of the same meaning.
Both words are enjoying a renaissance and their sudden popularity is no accident. They have crept into our digital scrolls and public squares because they describe us, the new us. We are a people bruised and bitter, and increasingly unbothered by the pain of others.
Recall when Beatrice Elachi lost her son. Did we grieve? I did. Many did not. The social spaces buzzed with sarcasm, cruelty, and the wicked delight of those who considered her words in previous tragedies and saw divine irony. When Gen Z protestors were felled by bullets and batons, she betrayed not the empathy one would expect, but the detachment of the high table.
And so, the cycle continued. In Kasipul, the MP was murdered in cold blood. For the record, I sympathise with his family and condole with them for he was well known to me to earn a place as an acquaintance. His death was celebrated by those who believe that he deserved the very promotion to glory they claim he had generously distributed more than bursary cheques.
To be fair to the dead, politics of Kasipul and South Nyanza, have long been drenched in the language of pangas and machetes, even before he debuted in politics. Supporters dance to the tunes of the song in 1st Samuel 18:7 “Saul has killed thousands of men. David has killed tens of thousands” while opponents chant back the gospel of Levi in the book of Mathew, that from soil we came, and to soil we shall return, and to the swordsman, shall it be by the very blade!
Kenyans are angry, but their l...Kenyans are angry, but their leaders have other things to worry about
Fire Murkomen: 5,000 security personnel yet North Rift remains a criminal playgroundFire Murkomen: 5,000 security personnel yet North Rift remains a criminal playground.
Leaders reflect on youth frust...Leaders reflect on youth frustration during Elachi's son's burial. Interior CS Murkomen blames on...Interior CS Murkomen blames online hostilities on poor parenting, drugs. Kenyans are indeed wounded animals turned feral. There is a taste for vengeance masquerading as justice. What eats at us is larger than Elachi or Were. It is systemic. It is a republic that has institutionalised nepotism, tribalism, and bedroom politics.
Today, one does not rise because they can, but because they are known, or worse, because they are owned. Kenyans feel that every door worth knocking is guarded by a gatekeeper who demands a surname or a silhouette. The youth, especially my fellow restless Gen Z, have sniffed the decay.
They are not asking politely, not anymore. They are growling. For too long, they have queued for opportunities that were already allocated at family dinners. They have watched the undeserving ascend, while the deserving are asked to be patient. Patience, they are told, is a virtue, that pays, maybe in eternal rest.
The political class continues to wear its tribal colours like papal robes. They invoke unity, but practice division. They promise reform, but deliver rot. And when the people speak, they respond with arrogance, lawsuits, or silence. They hide behind ethnic walls and dare the truth to scale them. Look at the shameful comments by some MPs when discussing the BBC Blood Parliament documentary.
But the Gen Z is learning to climb. They say they leaderless, self-propelled, digitally coordinated, and unafraid. They are many, and they are angry and hungry. They are not tied to Raila, Ruto, Kalonzo, or Karua. They are not interested in being used (anymore), only to be discarded post-election. It is not an uprising of manifestos but of meaning and convenience. By Donald Agwenge, The Standard
