What society are we building?

We had an almost similar discussion the other day here on KTalk, and most of us blatantly dismissed @Ka-Buda when he pointed out our blatant disregard for human life and basic human dignity. Well, read on:


Albanus Maweu Mutiso, 45, was a good man. When I visited his home in Kathonzweni in Makueni county, my respect for him grew. Kathonzweni is beautiful, a hard uncompromising beauty. It is green, this being the wet season, but nothing of much use grows there. The maize grows to a foot and would not grow any more. The patchy grass looks promising, but it is the wet, soft, rain-soaked type that gives cows a running stomach.

You must respect all people who come from backgrounds so deprived and make something of their lives. Mr Mutiso was a nurse at the Makueni county hospital where he saved lives and cared for the sick. But he was not a man to sit back and take life easy. He had enrolled at the Kenya Medical Training Institute for a course to improve his skills and make life better for himself and his family.

Back in the day, he finished school only because he was tenacious and his headmaster was a man of principle who refused to send away students because of inability to pay fees.

Mr Mutiso was buried last Saturday. He died at Kenyatta National Hospital earlier in the week, the victim of a hit and run accident. On Monday, April 13, he was walking on Haile Selassie Avenue in Nairobi at 6.30am on the way to KMTC. Such was his diligence that even though he lived in Kitengela, he was in town that early.

As he walked on the pavement, the driver of a matatu who was racing another matatu appeared to lose control of his vehicle and ploughed into pedestrians, according to relatives.


Mr Mutiso was hit and sustained serious internal injuries. There were many other people who were slightly hurt. The crew of the matatu calmly got out of their vehicle and melted away. I was told the owner has explained that he did not know who was driving his vehicle that day, that it was a relief “squad” that was in control at the time of the accident. I do not know how true this is, though I intend to find out.

None of the onlookers and police officers milling around the scene took Mr Mutiso to hospital. They took the ones who did not look too badly off and left him writhing in pain on the ground. Apparently, people are scared of being blamed for the death of an accident victim they rescue. Nobody called St John’s, Red Cross, the City Council ambulance service. Nobody called the Sonko Rescue Team, either.

And so Mr Mutiso, a man of great courage, got to his phone and called his wife. Because she was far away in Kitengela, she called relatives who lived closer to town to go and rescue him.The relatives found him on the road, in pain with no help or comfort from the sea of people around him.

I never knew Mr Mutiso but I know people who did and when I heard his tragic story, I resolved to attend his funeral, not just to comfort those whose lives have been ruined by his death but as an act of penance and protest against a society that has lost its humanity.

I am not a very religious man, but my children have taught me to pray. So, in the heat of the Kathonzweni sun, hungry, sad, and resentful, I prayed for Mr Mutiso, his wife, and two children. I asked God to take judicial notice of how unfair it was for a man who had worked so diligently to make a living for himself and had dedicated his life to alleviating the pain of strangers should be killed so casually and his cries for help unheeded so cruelly. A good man so unfortunate, I argued, to live among a people so inhuman deserved the reward of admission into paradise.

The priest who said mass at the funeral, however, shone a little beam of light into the despair in my heart. I will not cheat you, he told the family, you have lost your bread winner.Your lives will change, things will be difficult. Please cry because you have suffered great pain and loss. But do not cry for too long because the business of living must continue. Leave the dead to God, they are none of your business. Your business is life.

And so Mr Mutiso was buried. Nobody cares that an innocent man’s life has been taken by another, scrambling for Sh200.



quite unfortunate, and more unfortunate is that this will pass unnoticed like water under a bridge, lakini vera sidika akitoa picha akiwa uchi everybody notices.This society has reached it’s decaying state.


dakitari wa google,must you google everything?

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Well, he googles and brings something mature unlike you all you do is gay talk with your crew.


My heart sunk…

Yes. Next question, please?

Most unfortunate is that this is replicated, in various degrees, all around us. We are getting too busy, too preoccupied, to take note of our fellow humans and do the humane thing.

I thought basic instincts tells you to help a person in pain…maybe i live in my own bubble.


Supposing it was you lying there in agony, what would you like done for you? The answer to that should be what guides us to assist when we can.

Where can one learn first aid course?

this is really sad.

  1. St. John’s Ambulance
  2. Kenya Red Cross Society

@ luther…in a world wear we fear to look into our inner selves and admit that we need to improve ourselves and consistently accuse other people for our misfortunes…we think: good people are weak…quiet people are boring…loud mouths are interesting despite the fact that 90% of the time they have no substance…and being flashy is a sign of being an alpha male or lady…there can never be genuine friendship and for that matter genuine care for each other…I won’t be surprised if among the onlookers there was a nurse…a med student…


Free ama for a fee?

Its so sad an affair but unfortunately that’s the life we live. I might be tempted to blame bureaucracy in everything we do even in good faith. It was wrong to watch a man die while something could have been done to save his life but was not. I once, in the company of a friend helped out a hit and run victim and took him to hospital. What followed was just to much that made us regret why we even took it upon ourselves to help. First and foremost we were kind of blamed for being responsible for the incident with the doctor saying how was he to be sure we were not the ones who knocked the guy. Secondly, we had to start on the police bullshit, going to the nearest station to record statements of what happened thereby wasting alot of valuable man hours that could have been used doing something else. At least we did our part and took the guy to hospital.

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This has reminded me of an incident narrated to me by a matatu driver (called George) who at one time plied the Mútomo-Kitui-Thika-Embu route. Those who’ve been there may have noticed that Mútomo is about 70 or so kms from Kitui and the road is untarmacked (I think part of it was done recently).

So one day, he’s on his usual run from Mútomo and comes across this stranded lady taking her patient to hospital. The patient, a gentleman who was also her husband had soiled himself and obviously none of the matatus or GK vehicles plying the route would ferry them.

Anyway, George got curious, stopped talked to them and offered to help. The passengers protested and all alighted & had their fares refunded. George, his conductor and now two passengers proceeded to Kitui where he left only after making sure the gentleman had been attended to, having exchanged contacts.

Every once in a while he’d call them up to enquire on the progress of the gentleman. Anyway, as fate would have it, he passed on shortly afterwards.

The deceased’s sons as well as other relatives lived at the coast and had been appraised of George’s kindness and so decided to hire him to provide transport services during the burial. This was back in the day when most matatu routes were run by cartels and so, George being neither a local (he’s from a different tribe) nor a member of the dominant cartel, naturally was barred from doing it. But the family insisted: it was either George or George. What to do? Long story short, it took the then D.C’s personal intervention and provision of security for the burial to proceed.

George went on to do business on that route for a decade, in disturbed and in the process earned himself lifelong friends, only because he was willing to go beyond the call of duty. To be human and humane, above all else.

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I know the feeling … Peleka mtu hosi who has been involved in an accident , dear ktalkers hiyo siku uta hate ur life!

Not sure of charges, if any. You may have to contact them directly for that. There’re some employers who insist that their drivers must have done a first aid course and only accept courses offered by these two bodies.


That’s the spirit. It’s the normal thing to do. The man-hours you perceive as ‘wasted’ were not exactly a waste. A man’s life was saved that day, thanks to you.