Baddies in maandamano

 

“How can you teargas, 

a 

Baddie?”

Most protests or as the citizens aka criminals like to call it, maandamano features a big percentage men, plus if there were any ladies at all, most had a huge resemblance to the men themselves. 

It all started with the public learning about the mischief that the members of Parliament were cooking up, thinking no one was looking, thinking that no one would give a hoot. 

They thought business was as usual, that Kenyans were focused on other things like fornicating like a certain cabinet minister caught red handed with someone's wife abroad, or night life or as the force that has been terrifying politicians, the Gen Z call it, sherehe, and other trivial matters. 

As soon as the public learnt of this mischief by the members of Parliament, a rallying call for each member of the public to call and tell their representative to stop with their madness and do away with the mischief that they were cooking up.

Did the elected representatives listen to the 

people? 

No, not only did they not listen, they came up with silly and stupid responses accompanied with a certain degree of arrogance, never seen before. 

This resulted in things starting to boil rapidly with each and every arrogant and ignorant statement, the representatives and the political class made. Things boiled over, and the political class would realize what it meant to ignore the folks who put them there.

The protest that started this time around, was different from the rest of previous maandamanos. The force that was about to hit, and hit hard had observed from a far. They had seen how earlier protests had turned out, they had studied it, and had rectified the errors associated with the previous protests.

What baffled most was this, one, the government was caught unaware, they thought and assumed that people were just bluffing online, two it had no leader, no tribe, and political affiliation, finally people had fury at the government like the fury Francis Gaitho has on boomers.

There was a new player, one not usually seen on most protests, the baddie. They came out in droves, hundreds, thousands even. Braving the stinging teargas flung, the itchy water sprayed at them. 

It was a spectacular sight,

to witness, 

to be part of. 

You are there, choking on teargas flung at you by the anti riot police, your eyes and throat burning up, your sight clears up for just a bit, you see your type from a far. 

Another teargas is flung, after struggling with it, and it's effect abetting, your vision clears just enough for you to see another baddie who looks even more your type coming your way to spray some vinegar or bicarbonate infused water to calm your red pepper looking eyes.

With braids whipping in the wind, chins held high, they defied the sting of teargas for a cause bigger than their next TikTok, Twitter, Snapchat or Instagram post. 

This wasn't just a protest, it was a beauty revolution, Kenyan style. Forget flawless foundation and fierce lip gloss, these baddies were rocking a different kind of shine – the defiant glint in their tear-filled eyes.  

Ignoring the burning in their throats and the stinging on their skin, they raised their voices in protest against the Finance Bill, proving beauty can be more than flawless skin deep; it can be the courage to fight for what's right, even when the odds are stacked against you.

They proved that beauty and brains can ignite a revolution, their presence a powerful image that the fight for a better Kenya transcends social status. their voices adding a powerful counterpoint to the chants. This was not just any ordinary protest, it was a statement that had Gen Z baddies standing united, against an unjust bill.

This is for my fallen soldiers, 

we miss you

Although you're gone, we're with you

Gone pon the battle field

Life is so fucking real