I am so mad, don’t come near me!

By PETER GAITHO
Published July 18, 2010

I went to the supermarket the other day and bought what appeared to be a good bargain for beef patties. I was gearing for a nice one man cook out. And what a way to do it than grill my own hamburger? Also included were Italian sausages, to make me some hot dogs.

The business of the day ended without a hitch, and my innards were in celebration. As I was flossing out the pieces of meat stuck between my teeth, and enjoying a glass of red wine, I turned on the TV to catch up on the local news.

The first news item was that the Federal Drug Administration (FDA) had recalled so many pounds of a particular brand of beef patties, as it was suspected they had caused e coli bacteria and close to 10 deaths across the United States. I did not give the news the necessary weight, until I went to trash some banana peels. Staring at me was the empty beef patties packaging that I had enjoyed a few minutes before. And- you guessed right- they were the same brand as the ones recalled by the FDA.

I looked at the patties packaging, then my belly, and back at the packaging. I shouted the name of the son of Joseph and Mary; I heard my neighbors curse.

Tell me, you who know, what do you do when such an eventuality arises? Whatever had been recalled was sitting pretty in my belly, with bacteria busy mating inside me, increasing their population by the minute. Holy Molly!

Lucky for me, my stomach has lived to digest items that would make the FDA recall me, as a threat to the health of all those who come in contact with me. As a boy, I devoured wild fruits, and ate half cooked rabbit meat that had been partly eaten by my dog, Simba, and when a piece of Ugali fell on the ground, the five seconds rule applied.

This business of recalling things drives me crazy. In the few years I have been around, they have recalled several millions of pounds of beef, lettuce, spinach, toothpaste, toys, baby cribs, bicycles, and recently children’s Tylenol and some coffee cups from Mc Donald’s. I have intentionally omitted from the list, all the Toyotas, Hondas and Chevys, that have been recalled because of this or that reason.

Who do those manufacturers think they are? And what do they take me for? How dare they expose my wife, children, and myself to toxins and death machines? Why would anyone in his right mind make something that would kill babies? The next time I hear a company’s products being recalled, I will drive to its headquarters, and force the president to eat a hamburger made by me. Yes, you heard me right. Spend some money on R and D, whatever that means, MORONS.

And while still at it, how come for the three decades I was resident in the land of Kibaki and Raila, I never heard of one product recalled. Does it mean the manufacturers there are so perfect, or they went to bed long time ago, with the local FDA officials?

I remember many fake products lining up the streets of Nairobi, and no one in authority raises a voice. They range from fake drugs, food items, vehicle parts, clothes, and electronics. The whole city is fake. At one time, Limuru donkey owners would wake up to find their donkeys missing. A few day later, the skeletal remains of donkeys would be seen in Karura forest. Your guess is as good as mine as to where the meat ended.

Back to where I began. I read in last week’s issue of Time Magazine that, corporations spent more than $3.5 billion last year on lobbyists. As they did that, they continued churning our products laden with toxics, releasing them into the market while the watchman slept.

And so it has come to pass that you and I have been left to drive faulty cars, eat bacteria-infested hamburgers, drink from lead-filled cups, and when we get sick, the medicine we take will only quicken our way to the morgue.

It is for this reason that I am mad. Because I am left without a choice but depend on a farmer in Guatemala to grow my bananas, another one in Florida to grow my oranges, while the crankshaft of my car will be made by a deranged, suicidal, overworked and underpaid Chinese laborer.

Because I am angry, I will count until four; and when I become very angry, I will swear, if only to be in agreement with Mark Twain.

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