#borowed but true
UHURU KENYATTA SAVE US FROM KILLER
BANKS.
Some years ago, I used taxis a lot from
Nairobi’s CBD. Caleb was my favourite guy,
who paid the car owner 7K per week, that is
1K per day, and saving the rest of the profit
after fuel. Yet still, life was tough, for
sometimes by the weekend, he would only be
left with 2K. On a good month, he made about
30K after fuel, 28K for the owner as he netted
as low as 2K a month on bad months. He
lived with his wife and 6 children in Kibera
slums, plus two more nieces from a late
brother.
Anyway, one day Caleb picked me in a brand
new car. His 5-year dream had finally come to
fruition. He had saved 200K over the years,
and took a loan of 950K from one of the
popular commercial banks. He was expected
to repay 20K per month and he knew he’d
save 10K for his family every month before
finally having all the profit for himself. I was
impressed by Caleb’s determination and
strategy to pay more so he could earn his
freedom in 3 years instead of 6.
Then Kenya’s fiscal crisis came and the loan
rates were hiked abruptly. His bank told him
that he’d now pay 25K instead of 20K and for
7 years instead of 6. It was as shocking as the
news that his wife, who was in labour, was
having a complicated delivery and lost the
baby. She had to be in HDU and couldn’t
attend her infant’s funeral. Caleb looked
strong yet forlorn during the funeral at the
Lang’ata Cemetery. The eldest daughter, only
14 and a candidate for national primary
exams, wore one of my black t-shirts, while
neighbours had also shared black t-shirts for
the 4 of the children who had none. A tailor
neighbour had made white ribbons for them.
Caleb’s wife stayed in hospital for 1 month,
the bills soaring as he shuffled between work,
hospital and home to see the children,
especially the last born who was only two.
Well, he did not hit his target that month and
defaulted the loan. He explained to the bank’s
relationship manager who urged him to pay up
within 21 days. He committed to working day
and night, but that was cut off when he got to
the hospital and found the wife’s bed empty. I
visited the family the following day. It was a
single roomed house, the parents’ bed section
separated by a curtain. Caleb was on one
corner making a meal for his children,
something he insisted to do that day in spite
of the neighbours fully supporting him. The
wife’s funeral would take place in 2 weeks as
they attempted to raise the cash to settle the
hospital and funeral bills. It was another two
months later when I called Caleb for a taxi
ride. ‘Sina gari, he said, bank imechukua!’ His
car had been repossessed by the bank and
auctioned within days. Guess who bought it at
a throw away price? A brother to one of the
bank auctioneers who gave it to a different
driver to continue the taxi business.
My eyes tear for my people when I hear some
countries charge interest rates at 1% to 4%.
My heart shudders when I see some Kenyan
banks charging over 25% interest rates to the
poorest of all. I ponder over the arguments for
or against controlling interest rates. I wonder
why it has to take the Banking (Amendment)
Bill capping interest rates to see banks rolling
over themselves pretending to care for the
Kenyan borrower. I fear the president might
not sign the bill sighting positive measures
that are taking place. I feel like blackmailing
him with my single vote but I know the
teaming confidence that he may be reelected
anyway.
Oh, and just in case you are wondering about
Caleb, I called him one day, shortly after the
auction, and his number went unanswered. A
few days later, his daughter picked and said
one word: ALIKUFA, which means ‘he died.’ He
had been buried a week earlier. The children
said he slept and never woke up. But the near
emptied glass was on a stool next to his bed
with a package that told it all was found in
his trouser pockets. He had scribbled some
words on it; ‘Bank Imeniua!’ (The bank killed
me). Blessed week. The one reason why Uhuru
should sign that bill…
.
True story by Larry Liza