One of the best indicators that our country might never achieve vision 2030 is the declining reading culture among my comrades. This is a sorry generation that would never touch the Encyclopedia Britannica with a ten-foot pole.
I know you’re asking how it is possible for people to be university students and yet fail to crack books. The real problem is that once a comrade is admitted to a course say, Mechanical Engineering, that comrade will never touch anything outside their locus of study. The situation is so bad that a handful of my comrades would rather play football on Thika Road than purchase today’s paper. Whatever happened to the concept of general knowledge?
At our homestead, Grandpa Richard made sure books defined our lives. Send out a misspelled text with LMFAOs and my old man would clobber you with a dictionary. Fall asleep in church and you got whacked by the hymnbook. Woe betide you if you ever wondered whether Costa Rica is an African country, because grandpa would smack you proper with an atlas till you’re able to recite all the countries and their capital cities.
“During my youth, I was raised believing that knowledge is power,” recounts Grandpa Richard. “Our books, dusty and heavy, were all Goliath in size. Those books built both brains and brawn. Sometimes it took two of us to lift them off the shelf.”
Today’s comrades, however, do not have the patience to read anything longer than 140 characters. All they have time to read are tweets, tattoos and explicit words written on the hemline of their boxers.
And when they need to source for news, they’d rather read incoherent banter on Facebook and asinine make-shift blogs than purchase a decent newspaper. Nowadays, any comrade with a computer can cobble up a blog and fill it with unfiltered propaganda and yellow news hell bent on spreading hate and destroying morals. Information is like alcohol. It needs to be filtered, distilled and carefully packaged before it is safe for consumption. Ingest it ‘wholesale’ from ratchet blogs and you’re opening yourself up to nothing but blindness, death or worse, brain fever.
These blogs trick my comrades into believing they actually know things, while all they’re filled with are conflicting opinions, warped ideologies, and sleazy photos from Masaku Sevens. You’re better off sticking to the good old books.
Speaking of Masaku Sevens, the other day Grandpa Richard had a hard time picking up his jaw after it dropped to the ground upon viewing pictures from the rugby fiesta. Clearly, what went down at Machakos had little to do with rugby. But I digress.
It is high time my comrades stopped poisoning themselves with information from scrupulous sources on the internet and sat down to read some real books. If things go their way, books will soon be obsolete relics for the museum. And when that happens, we will all be ashamed that we weren’t even able to read the writing on the wall.

Follow Jowal on Twitter: @JowalJones

Lukorito Jones

When I'm not busy chasing around stories for my quasi-journalism career, you'll find me dabbling in fiction and perfecting my deer-dancing and goat-screaming skills.


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