Jobseeker's Diary: I want to be an MP

When I grow up I want to be an MP. A Kenyan MP. I work six-day weeks and my average income is a paltry $250. I guess if I become an MP and work as hard as the current crop of MPs, I will get my $10,000 a month. That’s $120,000 a year. Add sitting allowances and I can’t see myself wanting for anything. My fingers are itching just at the thought. The things I’d do with that money! After all, I’d have a diplomatic passport as well as access to VIP lounges. You all know how important it is for MPs to travel. Knowing the way these things go, I know it won’t be long before another motion is tabled to revise salaries upwards and trust me, it will be passed. In a couple of years, I’ll have joined the Millionaires Club and I’ll finally get to live the life I’ve always wanted. Beautiful house, nice car bought by taxpayers’ money which I’ll go on to use for personal business, like dropping my kids off to school or visiting loved ones in the village. For those wondering if I have what it takes to run, well, I do have a degree and I know many MPs who don’t. Besides, it’s not the papers that do the job. Thanks to the winds of change sweeping across our continent, gender is no longer an impediment and I can see myself trouncing some big guys. My public speaking skills may not match Obama’s but I’m working on that. Nothing a speech a writer and a couple more sessions in front of my mirror can’t fix. I’ve listened to some terribly boring speeches by some of our leaders and I promise not to torture my constituents with any of that. Since I’ll be running in Kenya, I guess I should learn some Swahili. It’s pretty hard to learn a new language at my age but considering what’s at stake, I know I can do it. People have done harder things for money. I do hope that this East African Community talk isn’t just on paper and that by the time the next elections come around, there won’t be need for work permits, proof of citizenship and things like that. That way, Ugandans, Rwandans, Burundians and whoever lives in this region can run for office since we’re one big happy family. But in case that doesn’t happen, then I guess I’ll just have to marry a Kenyan “brother”, have a kid or two and change my name to Mwangi or Wambui. The other important thing I need is money. Campaigns can be costly but I needn’t worry about that, given the influx of banks and their willingness to give loans to anyone who’ll take them so I’ll line up for one. With $10,000 a month, surely I won’t be a risk. I have a few ideas for my campaign slogan. “Let’s Pool Together” sounds good, doesn’t it? The idea is to use my constituents’ resources to do their work for all our sakes. I’ll pretend I really care about their needs through passionate speeches and promises to present their needs to government but that will be about it. As long as my account is happy, who cares about the little people? If I need to run for a second term, I’ll just buy the votes. Doesn’t everybody these days? Besides, we tend to have short memories. No body remembers the unfulfilled promises, otherwise we wouldn’t be re-electing the very people who did nothing to improve our lives. So, who wants to join my team? 2018 is not so far.