Kenya Powerless

I appreciate all that ^CN had done to make my ordeal less  traumatizing, but notwithstanding, you are the topic of my rant. A week ago, I went to Electricity House for the first time, and I have made the effort to annex my prayers with the wish never to grace your premises ever again.

First of all, I commend you on your attempt to screen people at the entrance, and as one of the building in the CBD to carry many people at the same time, I see how it could be a target. (I think you are next after most Equity and Co-op bank halls). But still  I saw loopholes in your system. You don’t pass the detector thingy over the bags and all you do is give them a cursory feel.

You’ve been warned.

(Point to Note; people should take my warnings seriously. This pessimistic mind can see what could go wrong and it usually does)

On entering your building, it seems the doors to the hall are locked. Now, less than 1% of the entire human population can admit they have psychic tendencies, but I think it would be an unjust assumption on your part. (They are on the other side, btw).

Once you enter the hall, you are met by a vision of misery. It’s kinda quiet with the shuffling of feet and murmuring. No one is smiling, especially the woman who sits at your so called enquiries desk.

I think Hell is modelled after that hall, the devil saw it and said, ‘Yup, this is good’.

I joined a line to a cashier and paid my fee. Then I got mad. No, I had been pissed off before, but now I was mad. I contemplated crashing my fist through the glass partition, but I thought of the damage to my beautiful hands, the police case that would soon follow and the parting with my hard earned cash to pay for damages.

Ah, reason, my saviour.

I didn’t.

What made me mad was the fact that I was given a receipt , but I wasn’t through. I needed a number. Why the number couldn’t be automatically generated and entered into the system, I don’t understand.

So me and my little piece of paper went to teller 14/15 which had the apt title of Payment Confirmation. What the heck are computers for?

And there I saw the mother of all queues. 60+ people in front of me! Let’s just say a little piece of me died right there. But it’s not like I could leave. So I spent 1 and a half hours of my life queuing for a number. I felt so wasted. And after all that, the teller gave me my number in less than 30 seconds!

How do you waste people like that? Have you no soul?

And still after doing everything you asked me to do and promising me that I’d get my elec back by the following morning. And till 4 days later I had none. Let’s just say ulinimess.

But to get back onto my good side, I suggest delivering the following items as compensation (you know my address, right? After all you did cut my electricity):

  • A pizza and pie… to replace all the food that got spoilt.
  • 3 chocolate chip milkshakes…to replace the milk that got spoilt.
  • 2 vouchers for spa system…to compensate for the cold showers
  • 4 movie vouchers…for the TV shows I’ve missed

I await your arrival. Just call ahead. (You know my number right?)

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