Kenyatta: Puzzle of an intoxicating cup of porridge and inspiring glass of beer 

Two is that with my head all grey, this porridge-sipping old timer that your columnist is, might be simply gone bananas; for when people grow old (Ahem! Just clearing my throat!), they oft begin to think rather weirdly, and make preposterous suggestions, as their growth curve bends towards the infancy they were in when they came kicking and bawling into the world. 

Let the record reflect that I’ve alerted my kids to this unpleasant reality, so that when I begin to sound weird, they immediately relieve me of any decision-making responsibility.
Two days ago, as he often does, my main man in Nairobi sent me a video of the Kenyan president, eyes all lit up, a huge mischievous boyish look on his face, laughing happily and dancing away, without a care in the world, at some happening place. 

My man, who can himself never be accused of leaving a glass of beer unfinished, wasn’t a happy camper: felt his president’s well-documented liking for the bottle was a handshake gone beyond the elbow.
I didn’t know what to say; because I have seen this presumably “ne’er sober” president deliver some of the finest speeches the African continent has been treated to in the last four decades. 

I have seen this “ne’er sober” chap show up to a podium, right on time, sharply dressed, looking extremely elegant, demonstrating a keen sense of fashion and leaving no one in any doubt as to the fact that he is fully in control of his faculties, understands what his country needs and articulates his points so eloquently, a standing ovation is inevitable even before he gets to the last paragraph. I guess a fine compliment to a beer!

And yet I have seen in other places, people who are known teetotallers, showing up to a podium very late, dressed rather curiously and immediately even I, pedestrian that I am in the world of fashion, promptly declare them a fashion disaster. 

I have listened to their speeches: long, winding and rambling, without any serious point being made. 
Or when they make a point, it is so disturbing or outrageous! And yet all the while, all they had in the cup beside them was nothing more than porridge! Certainly, scant compliments to porridge!

Oh, the woes that come with old age! I can no longer tell whether beer is inspiring or porridge is intoxicating!
Looking at Uhuru dancing, I can safely conclude that it is possible for a president to actually enjoy the presidency and be human. It is possible for a president to feel safe in his own country, interact freely with his countrymen and make merry with them. 
His guarantee of safety is that the people feel he has led the country well, he has served the national interest and has no intention of refusing to leave power. 

They were happy to see him enter State House, they are as happy to see him leave and make way for another First Tenant! Sounds like true stability to me! Sounds like true peace to me! It is confirmation that when there is peace in the country, the chief does not need to carry a shield. 

The younger generation may not know it, but Uhuru was a First Son: his father, Jomo Kenyatta, was Kenya’s first president; but you’ll never hear this First Son-cum-First-Citizen throw his father’s name around in unsteady, unconvincing speeches and loose tweets.
 
Clearly, this First Son is a man in his own right. His father died in 1978; too far back for anyone to say Jomo Kenyatta came up with a Uhuru Project of some kind and handed him State House as a birthright or birthday gift. 
And after studying social media, I can safely declare that Uhuru’s tweets suggest it is possible to have a glass of beer and still sound sober when you tweet!

Mr Tegulle is an advocate of the High Court of Uganda     [email protected]