The scams we never investigated

I would hate to be former Education CS Prof Jacob Kaimenyi. A man of great thunder, kids and teachers surprisingly treated him with scorn and contemptuously stole exams right beneath his nose.

By the time President Uhuru mercifully chucked him to Ardhi House, which is the real Mafia House, Kaimenyi, a dentist, was looking increasingly like his patients. And then Matiang’i, a mere PhD, walks into the docket and swears that exams will never be stolen again. I guess Kaimenyi was thinking, “Just keep on talking kizungu mingi. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”

Annoyingly, I presume, Matiang’i, working in cahoots with Prof Magoha, a man accustomed to dealing with stone throwers and arsonists, and fixed the problem in months.

Now, exams are on and barring a miracle, there will be no leak. I can’t wait to see the egg on the faces of big school principals who used to charge parents Sh6,000 chini ya maji for the purpose of exam theft. When the results are announced and those hundreds of ‘A’s they churn out go missing next January, they will, in the words of Wahome Mutahi, cry in the toilet.

But exam theft is the one scam Parliament wouldn’t be too bothered to investigate. MPs live in a glass house. A number of waheshimiwas are rumoured to have mwitu degrees. Others have genuine degrees but their classmates swear they spent more time boozing with lecturers than sweating it out in the library. You cannot spend three years fighting Raila and still find the time to forage in a swamp for worms and write a thesis for Master of Science degree.

There, however, were bigger scams where Kenyans lost millions before exam theft became more fashionable than cattle rustling. In 1994 or thereabouts, a clever mandarin decreed that every Kenyan must have a Kenya Revenue Authority PIN. It is not called ‘pin’ for nothing. Paying tax pricks more painfully than the toys boys use to deflower shy teenage girls.

Being Kenyans, we ignored that PIN order until a new directive came in: “No PIN, no salary for public servants.” And this being Kenya, you couldn’t get the darn thing if you didn’t know someone. Can you imagine how much cash the Kenya Revenue Authority clerks made in that one month with hundreds of thousands of teachers meandering around the corridors desperately looking for someone to ‘know’?

A similar thing happened in 2010 when former Immigration minister Otieno Kajwang’ ordered that every Standard Eight candidate must register for KCPE with a birth certificate. My sources tell me that thing was selling at between Sh5,000 and Sh10,000. If those with access to birth certificates didn’t make enough loot to marry second wives or prop up toy boys and mistresses all over the place, they never will.

But the biggest scam which will remain unearthed has to do with women being their worst enemies. During traditional weddings, brides are covered in khangas so that absent-minded grooms who can’t identify their lovers in a parade can be fined serious goats on the spot.

And you know what conniving women do? They wear Bint el Sudan perfume and leak the dossier to their good-for-nothing msoto boyfriends!

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