Considering that some of us have now become editors ourselves in this interactive online paper, I think I should reflect a bit more here... and in public, too.

How do we, the editors of Kenya Imagine, understand our (as of yet, unpaid) job ourselves? Principally, we strive not to edit for political correctness or expendiency, but for clarity, correctness and what we hope to be good English. I have published a number of submissions with which I did not agree at all (regardless whether it be Christian moralism, or pseudo-humanitarian smarminess when a dictator finally met his over-deserved end), and I hope and strive to continue to do so. Because a healthy concourse, and the joust of views and opinions is what keeps a paper alive. If I wanted to hear only my own opinion voiced convincingly, I would seek out an echo chamber.

In Kenyan newspapers, it is different however (with the notable exception of Kenya Times - later more about it). The Standard will not ever publish a pro-government article, and the Nation - a mere shadow of its former existence - will be careful to watch that its moderate criticism never goes beyond that, and does not impudently (and imprudently) touch somewhere where it *really* might hurt anyone Who Is Not To Be Hurt. Most of all, Kenyan journalists of either gender undergo a strange transition as soon as they become editors - a true metamorphosis.

What once was a comely, elegant butterfly, or a superbly swift and aggressive predator bug, now becomes a fat, slowly moving larva, only thinking how many leaves (or tuskers) she can consume in one day. Being a larva, she is painfully aware of her attractivity and vulnerability by other animals, and thus does her best not to attract undue attention that might prematurely finish her gourmand existence, or even - heaven forfend! - force her to retransform, and to morph back into the lowly and now despised existence of a mere journalist.

A Kenyan editor (and an editrix even more) first of all becomes a patronising, conceited sloth rapidly (attitude being flaunted as the hallmark of dignity). Then, she sees her duties mostly in guaranteeing that a certain standard shall not be... surpassed. Right. Writing badly is okay, and writing well is tolerable too, but writing too well, or confronting the readership with unfamiliar and potentially inquieting perspectives and insights, must never be allowed. Fresh air and a breeze always mean that you, the reader, could risk catching a cold - and that must not be. Why do you think it is, that Parsalelo Kantai is not a newspaper editor, but Lucy "African Madam" Oriang‘ is? Rrrright.

In most parts of the world, editors (of daily newspapers, weeklies and scholarly journals all alike) complain that they do not receive enough good and varied manuscripts, to choose the best from. In Kenya (we are not Uganda, after all), it's the other way around: too many good writers and journalists, but editors not wanting to publish their products. The one exception is the small and frequently still underestimated Kenya Times: while low in public esteem, and much harder to get than the two large dailies, it does again and again surprise with good, well-researched and powerful articles by young talented journalists, side-by-side with diasporic flatulences, shameless plagiarizing, and shallow political propaganda from either side. The important thing for me would be that this newspaper continues to offer a variety of opinions, and continues to give good freelancers their chance of publication. And that they eventually would hire a final print editor who knows more English than an absconding primary school pupil turned into herdsboy. This should not be a very hard task. I admit that I would never write for them, proud as I am - but I will gladly buy and read it, carefully and attentively.