Remote Mind Control

I love the countryside. A chance to be away from the noisy city and of course the dreaded traffic jam. One has an opportunity to literally taste the fresh air i.e. unless some bright chap decides to burn makaa on that day, then you’ll definitely have to change location. Yes here is where the people come in. They add a much needed character to the landscape. These are the veterans of the land, their families having lived there for a long long time. Their eyes cry out despair but their bodies spill out content. Their mouths? Sheer misunderstanding of the way things are and the way things are meant to be.

 

This situation got me thinking about the Remote Mind Control.  So I wrote a letter to him/ her/ it.

 

Dear Remote Mind Control,

You’re nowhere next to me, yet your signal is all around me. Dictating the way I walk because of my neighbor who then suddenly realized I was not from the same ethnic tribe as he. Dictating the way I talk because I am left discussing where your whereabouts might be, contemplating what your next action may be. Dictating the way I think because my dreams are too far to reach and my surrounding suggests that I do the little I can to simply get the little I can.

 

Remote Mind Control, no day passes that I don’t feel that signal. No day passes without me watching news only to be slapped on the face with what I’d like to call a buffet of utter nonsense.  No day passes without me walking passed a man who is able to walk, able to talk, but his mind is crippled.  No day passes without me being too weak to laugh, too weak to smile because I’m too busy fighting to make it through in peace and in one piece.

 

I wish I could have you jailed for life, but you’re not tangible.  I wish I could get a detergent to soak and scrub you off but you’re not just a stain.  I wish I could do something about it. Instead of sitting back, waiting for you to change the channel.

 

With Love,

Your Puppet (A Kenyan)

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~ by Notes on May 6, 2009.