Apparently one of these Luos can become President if he gets voted in. One would never have imagined this, but it is true nonetheless. In class six they also taught us that he would have to be at least 35 years old, and a member of Parliament. This refresher course raises my hopes and ambitions all over again, I do want to be President.

There is evidently a paucity of stories to sell papers with, and hysteria does make for good print shillings. Still for me it sounds a little over the top, and even reminds me of the days when as a little boy I would cry if I did not get my way. It is getting irritating now, the victim-hood, the constant talk of persecution, sheathed and unsheathed man-hoods and so on; really tiring, really boring. Worst of all, it is all made up but so diligently marketed that it has now gained what they call argumentum ad populum, or in Chinese - three men make a tiger .

Now Kenyans up and down the country, decent hardworking, morally upright people have to say the obvious. They have to say that they think it is okay to have a Luo President; that images of their fellows' genitalia hardly ever cross their mind, and even if so never in the poll booth. Would seem to you perfectly obvious this, especially in light of the fact that there has been no report of any politician, not in the ODM-K Council of Elders at least who has claimed these issues against Lang'ata MP and perhaps future President Raila Odinga.

The man however has a way with tales, and with making strawmen, woven in the most masterly and misleading vividness, brought to light by a stellar imagination and a determination that appeals to force, pledging the cudgel to the recalcitrant, like one Kalonzo Musyoka. So the legend gains currency and we are forced to reads pages upon pages of commentary from men and women doing their damnedest to teach us what was never in doubt anywhere, that is, that Luos are Kenyans who can run for public office.

There's a tale that was told of a farmer to whom a genie appeared and appealed in the fashion of genies to make a wish. The only caveat the genie warned, was that he would in turn award his neighbor twice that gift. The farmer said to the genie, with an evil glint to his smile, 'Take one of my eyes!'

Now, there is obviously going to be competition in ODM-K, but this will have to be conducted wisely if the party is to survive in any form at all. The only victory that can come from the current state of affairs will likely leave even the victor badly hurt, much like our one-eyed neighbour above. Negative campaigning of the sort conducted against Kalonzo Musyoka all year does nothing but demean its proponents in the public eye. He certainly does not seem to have done anything to deserve it, and with a negative stereotype already attached to Raila, the keenness of this crusade against Kalonzo will only make the Mwingi MP look more like the under-dog, prevailing against the oppressive forces that far outnumber and outpower him. For many of us, Kalonzo has been turned from an outsider to a heavyweight challenger merely by the fact that Raila and his crowd hate him so much. We are now being forced to ask, to what is it they are so violently opposed?

It is imperative that those supporting the Lang'ata MPs bid learn when to speak and when to keep it to themselves. Their campaign must stop being an anarchic free-for-all and get a better managed effort, not only in shows but also in what they are putting out to the public. They do not make for a good victim. We have been here all these years and we know who Agwambo is; and his other name is not Kalonzo. Secondly, some voters in this country will actually take you up on your cries. You keep pointing out their prejudices and how uch these hurt you and all you are doing is enforcing these prejudices, propelling non-issues into the subject of political debate and the future campaign. No one knew what Simeon Nyachae said until you gave it wings; moreover no one even cared until you made it relevant.

I have another story. It is short and hot. Here's another farmer, a strawman and a box of matches. The straw-man is waving, the farmer's pants are on fire. Liar, liar, pants afire.