Kennedy Omondi

Cybersecurity Expert

[Willis Evans Otieno @otienowill]

You used to claim that Hon. Ndindi Nyoro had delivered massive development in his constituency because he allegedly had influence over bigger allocations.

Now let me ask you plainly, by that same standard you were using then, how much tarmac have you actually delivered for your own people? And how many schools have you upgraded with cabros, classrooms, or even basic infrastructure that can be pointed at without excuses?

[Julians Amboko @AmbokoJH]

Utumishi Girls inferno update from National Police Service.

"Analysis of CCTV footage in collaboration with the teachers has enabled confirmation of the identity of 7 students who participated in the arson before escaping the scene. Of 8 suspects previously arrested, 6 have been positively identified & confirmed through the footage. The 7th identified student was among those earlier released to their parents & efforts are underway to trace & arrest her"

Thoughts & prayers go to the families of all those who have lost loved ones, those that have sustained injuries & all those traumatized by the incident.

[Finance Historian|Investor|Farmer @BoardLotSultan]

Did Centum borrow to buy its own shares?

Centum approved a KES 1.5B share buyback program. Meanwhile, they’ve been juggling debt with interest rates at 25% p.a.

Borrowing at 25% to buy back your own stock? That’s not strategy—it’s financial arson 🔥🧵1/n
https://t.co/8kgvC4oIBB

[𝗩𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲 𝗩𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗿𝗱 @vinguard254]

Utumishi Girls Academy fire tragedy student survivor narrates the shocking events as doctors also released a report on the number of students admitted.

[Kasmuel McOure @_KasKazini]

To the friends and family of Utumishi Girls Academy, may our God give you a peace that passeth all human understanding. No family should ever have to endure such a harrowing ordeal. Poleni sana.

[chris @mcm1777]

The irony is you're heavily indebted at KES 4.8T then you increase your budget to KES 5.1T in the same financial year, incurring more debt and if that's not bad enough you decide that your next budget will be at KES 5.8T which will lead to additional debt, all this time you cant show what value this additional expenditure has given

[Toyyib Adewale Adelodun @taadelodun]

By the way, the man Dangote is speaking here manages a $2 Trillion fund.

This podcast is also an opportunity for Alhaji to get more investments.

🎵Dangote Dangote still dey find money🎵

[Killa Lando @KillaLando]

They can't get guaranteed payments coz we already have a National Data Center (at Konza) & will be expanding when the time is right.

It's Tier III fine, but it'll do. And the objective for it's founding was this exactly...to cut back on costs.

[Mwai, MBS. @IanJamesMwaiK]

I watched Doctor Gikonyo saying he saw only 3 heart attack cases at KNH between 1970–1980 a period of 10 yrs. Right now he sees around 3 PER DAY 😳

Guys, eat right, move your body, reduce stress & take your health seriously. Lifestyle diseases are no longer old people problems.

[Aby @AginaAby]

Time to #LevelUp Catch my new Podcast series first episode drops tonight at 8pm

[Bankelele @bankelele]

Floods in African cities; Water rises, no matter what tricks developers do, such as making Nairobi River disappear http://t.co/Bcf2X2L5pp

[Kiswili Cyprian @kharsh_art]

Sharing these gorgeous works of art by the legend @patmuky
Rest well Panye.

[Emma Too™ @Emma999Too]

No… @patmuky talented artist, he will be missed. Rest in Power.🙏🏽

[AffordableArtKe @AffordableArtKE]

A great artist, a friend and mentor to so many.

RIP Patrick. You will be missed. 💔

[Kennedy Omondi @kenomik]

@Aymanhamzi8 Assist with document plz

[Kennedy Omondi @kenomik]

@_0b1d1 Assist with the PDF please

[Thomas Sowell Quotes @ThomasSowell]

Elon Musk: "Look fear straight in the eye, and it will disappear."

[Sizwe SikaMusi @SizweLo]

After a few years of writing on South Africa’s economic and social stagnation, I’ve learned something: people don’t want to know why things happen. They want to know who is responsible.

For example, when I wrote about how Eskom’s problems stem from its commercialisation in the 1980s, how restructuring a utility for profit created the very incentives that make looting rational, my readers yawned.

That wasn’t the story they wanted to hear. They needed the reason for Eskom’s struggles to be greed and incompetence instead of policy.

This pattern repeats everywhere. If you suggest that deindustrialisation and financialisation explain the country’s stagnation better than government failure, you’ll watch people’s eyes glaze over. But if you mention a corrupt tender, an incompetent minister, a stolen billion, now you have their attention.

All of this is because moral explanations are emotionally satisfying in ways that structural ones can never be.

Moral expositions offer the clarity of heroes and villains, devils and angels. They suggest simple solutions: fire the corrupt, put the thieves in orange jumpsuits, and elect better leaders.

This is human and satisfying because it turns chaos into a relatable story: There’s a thief, catch him.

On the other hand, structural explanations do the opposite. They’re abstract and involve everyone. They suggest that, often, what many observers see as “good policy” might have negative effects and hint that we’re all embedded in systems that reward certain behaviours regardless of individual integrity.

Most of all, they offer no easy fixes and no satisfying release of punishment.

Because what if the theft was made possible long before the thief arrived? What if the system itself was quietly redesigned over the years to turn public goods into private loot? What if the problem isn’t just who stole, but why stealing became so easy, so profitable and so normalised?

I once thought that if I could clearly explain the structural causes, people would understand. Now I realise the resistance isn’t only intellectual, it’s also psychological.

People need culprits because such culprits can be publicly shamed and even removed. But in reality, for any change to happen, systems have to be transformed, and transformation is uncertain and often exceedingly complex.

When I write about deindustrialisation or financialisation, I’m pointing to why. And I’ve noticed how often the response is polite impatience: “Yes, but who’s to blame today?”

This is why mainstream media gives people what they want: corruption scandals, government failures, incompetent officials. Not because journalists are stupid or compromised, they mostly are, yes, but also because that’s the narrative frame that resonates with the public. It gives them someone to blame.

And here’s the strange part: many people who consume and parrot these narratives don’t even trust the media delivering them. This explains why they get excited and feel validated when they hear the same things from a different source, like an independent journalist or analyst, one that makes them feel like independent thinkers rather than passive consumers of mainstream narratives.

At a theoretical level, there’s a deeper pattern at work here, one that the philosopher René Girard spent his career examining. Girard argued that when societies face crisis and unbearable tension, they instinctively resolve it through scapegoating: the community unites by directing all its anxieties and frustrations onto a single figure or group.

The scapegoat doesn’t have to be innocent. They might actually be guilty of something, but their guilt becomes vastly inflated to carry the symbolic weight of everything that’s gone wrong.

This is precisely what’s happening in South Africa’s public discourse.

The crisis is real: economic stagnation, mass unemployment, infrastructure collapse, deep inequality. These create unbearable social tension. But their causes are complex and systemic: colonial extraction, Apartheid’s spatial and economic architecture, global financialisation, policy choices spanning decades and governments, and the behaviour of both public and private actors.

These causes implicate everyone, offering no clear villains and no gratifying resolution.

Enter the scapegoat mechanism: Rather than face that complexity, the collective focuses blame on identifiable culprits: corrupt officials, cadre deployment, state capture, incompetent ministers.

Are these people actually corrupt or incompetent? Often, yes. But their failures become the explanation for everything, bearing a weight far beyond their actual role. They become vessels for all our rage and disappointment.

Notice something crucial here: the corruption narrative unites almost everyone. Business leaders, academics, opposition politicians, and even many ANC supporters all agree on blaming “the corrupt.”

This unanimity should make us suspicious. When everyone agrees on who the villain is, you’re likely witnessing scapegoating rather than analysis.

Real structural analysis is politically divisive precisely because they implicate different actors differently and require us to examine our own complicity.

The scapegoat mechanism explains why structural explanations feel so threatening. When I write about how Eskom’s commercialisation created incentives for looting, or how financialisation extracts value from the productive economy, I’m essentially saying: “It’s not really the scapegoat’s fault, or not mainly.”

Even if this is analytically correct, it’s psychologically intolerable because it removes the mechanism by which society manages its crisis. I’m asking people to face the void again, to sit with complexity and ambiguity and their own implication in broken systems.

The scapegoating mechanism obscures the structural violence of how the economy is organised, who owns what, how financialisation extracts value, how global capital flows work, and how privatisation and commercialisation create opportunities for looting that didn’t exist before.

These uncomfortable truths get buried under the satisfying simplicity of “bad people did greedy things.”

So we end up with a discourse that’s endlessly rich in righteous outrage but structurally impoverished. We know just about every corrupt official by name, but can’t really explain why corruption is systemic.

The country stays stuck, but at least we know who to blame. And perhaps that’s the point. The scapegoat mechanism just makes the crisis bearable by giving it a face, a name, a simple story.

The masses get the emotional satisfaction of moral clarity without the difficult work of structural transformation.

Until we’re willing to move beyond the search for culprits and sit with the discomfort of systemic causation, we’ll keep having the same conversations, blaming the same types of people, and wondering why nothing fundamentally changes.

[Kaka @ShockValueXX]

Kenyans will eternally dominate any arena that doesn’t require “teamwork,” planning, or funding from the government or its rotten sports federations.

As long as success hinges solely on raw individual talent, grit, and zero interference, we’ll keep shining on the global stage.

The manufactured bottlenecks, vicious gatekeeping and calculated sabotage embedded in Kenya’s organized sports - designed purely for political patronage and elite capture - are utterly revolting.

Massive congratulations to David Munyua for claiming the World Darts Championship title.

Proof yet again: strip away the corrupt middlemen and their toxic bureaucracy, and Kenyan excellence speaks for itself.