feeling much better now	sitting pretty

The biggest difference was in its title, and in the brazen fashion with which it carried itself. Most of Kenya's papers, even the yellowiest section of what we call the gutter press, strive to gain for themselves an air of respectability, adorning themselves with names such as The Independent, The Citizen and so on. Here was a newspaper that promised to be a magazine in the body of a newspaper, one that had set its crosshairs on the 18-35 age group, and that unashamedly promised to sell gossip about the high and mighty, the rich and the famous. Also among its wares would be a smattering of love stories, real one hopes -but more likely imagined. In its name, it recalled other lower end of the market publications across the world. Vivid in its colour, it did not let down, screaming on day one about some saint who helped nuns acquire abortions. Also leading was a story on the confessions of an obscure assistant Minister called Enoch.

Patrick Quarco is no fool we know, and neither is he a failed businessman. Kiss FM came into a market that was already ruled by Nation FM and Capital FM, and in no tome had carved out a niche for itself as the market leader. It follows then that market research showed that there is a group of Kenyans somewhere who will spend 35/- daily on the musings of such bards as Congestina Achieng', Maina Kageni and Caroline Mutoko. Democracy now, it seems. Everyone must have a go at the pen, or keyboard. Even loftier an ideal is the capacity for forgiveness and redemption in Mr Quarco. Kamlesh Pattni, recently set along the path from perdition to glory by his appointment as Export Director of the National Chambers of Commerce, gets a further lift with a column on entrepreneurship. John Githongo also returns to the regular pages with a column as does Wayua Muli whose ideas from the Standard Group's Pulse pull-out seem to have influenced the publication more than anything else.

trail blazer

In the end, what is delivered is a cross between a leaflet for a raffle (there is a plasma screen to be won), the National Enquirer and a 32-page edition of Rupert Murdoch's the Sun. The success of the paper will hinge on the ability of Quarco and his group to bring KISS's brash in your face and controversial style to newsprint, a moulding of the respectability that money allows it to pretend to have, with the talent for throwing mud that the gutter press has buffed to a glint.

Delivered in the Berliner format , by a girl in a tight and short white skirt, and a black t-shirt, it may very well succeed, or even in its failure compel the Nation and the Standard to plumb ever lower as the public migrates south to hotter climes. Shine on.