Ngwatilo

It’s fascinating how Kenyans responded to the news of Michael Jackson’s dramatic final exit, not on stage right or stage left but as if through a hidden trap door just off centre.

We celebrated and mourned him in earnest. In Nairobi a friend and local entertainment writer organized a communal moonwalk downtown; one of the presenters on a local Christian music station was heard reminding listeners that MJ wasn’t in their playlist and wouldn’t be getting on it; music stores and bootleg CD and DVD sellers did some brisk business on Michael Jackson merchandise, in a country where hardly anything musical ever “sells out” or sells at all in any newsworthy sort of way.

The level of activity and awareness is fascinating because the only other people in Kenya’s history to be so actively and universally mourned by Kenyans were politicians and freedom fighters. Certainly, no artist of any kind has ever held the country’s attention so completely in death, even though we have lost a few bright stars. Perhaps it is that we enjoyed his gifts so casually and so deeply for so many years.

We easily forgave his misplacement of African places and languages, we were glad to hear ourselves at all in Liberian Girl, which featured a female Kiswahili speaking voice crooning “nakupenda pia, nakutaka pia.” Never mind that Liberia has nothing to do with Kiswahili. Now we can argue that despite the fact that “Liberian” had the requisite number of syllables to make the hook work, and ‘L’ is admittedly a sexier consonant than “K,” none of Liberia’s languages sound nearly as sexy as Kiswahili. Suddenly we had another reason to love our collective self more.

What’s slightly awkward about the timing of all of this was the heightened awareness of child abuse, molestation and sodomy in Kenya. It may be argued that parents in Kenya are a bit careless with their kids, perhaps an aftereffect from a moment when children belonged to the community rather than solely to their parents and guardians. But now we contend with a barrage of reports detailing the assault and exploitation of our children as if a child-molesting demon has just been released in Kenya. We are suddenly awake to the idea that we need to guard our children, need to be concerned about their caregivers, friends and movements.

It’s also followed that anyone accused of such crimes is presumed guilty.

Although Kenyans know Jackson was acquitted of the charges brought against him in 2003, we never quite gave him the benefit of the doubt and at the same time, refused to ponder over his case in any depth with our very religious consciences. It was easier and more interesting to live with his issues unresolved including the fact of his vitiligo and lupus, which were public knowledge but have never prevented anyone from speculating further about his appearance.

That is, until now, when it doesn’t matter any more and all the world has of Michael Jackson is a handful of public statements and interviews, what Wikipedia says, his records, music videos and concert footage, and our memories of how his music marked the moments and events of our lives.