TaxDollars – My Face For Your Tax Dollars

Is Canada Letting the Wrong People In? Shocking Truth About Immigration Filtering

Canadians do not have the capacity to effectively police or filter who applies to come, visit, study, work, and live here.

Canada’s immigration system is primarily designed to vet individuals through official documents and data that are crucial for processing applications. However, the system assumes certain global uniformity in how identity and family structures are defined, which is far from reality. In countries with less rigid or vastly different identity tracking systems, policing who comes to Canada becomes a challenge.

For instance, in many African nations, birth records may not be common, or they might be issued years after birth, making age verification difficult. In such systems, identifying an individual for immigration purposes can be hard, as they may lack formal documents like birth certificates or consistent naming structures. Some migrants might provide different information to fit the application requirements, which could result in identity discrepancies.

Other countries with weaker governance, like parts of India or rural areas in Latin America, face similar challenges. In rural parts of India, it is not unusual for people to have no official records at birth, and names may change as children grow. This mirrors the situation portrayed in Aravind Adiga’s The White Tiger, where official identity is fluid and can be easily manipulated. This creates challenges for countries like Canada when verifying an individual’s background.

The Cultural Variability of Guardrails in Society

Society is made up of certain building blocks, each of which has some guardrails. Such unique blocks include individual, immediate family, extended family, clan, etc. Each building block has a guardrail.

In Canada, the foundational building blocks of society are individuals and families, with clear and structured definitions backed by official documentation. An individual in Canada is tied to a birth certificate, a gender marker, a first name, middle name, and last name, and a physical address. This consistent information across all citizens forms the basis for identity verification, making it easier to process and filter who applies to migrate.

By contrast, many countries do not have such well-established systems. In some African and Southeast Asian nations, identity is tied more to the immediate community or clan, rather than a formal registry of individuals. For instance, in rural communities in Kenya, many individuals may not have formal birth certificates and might only be officially documented when they enter school or formal employment. A child’s identity might change over time with nicknames, further complicating any formal records.

In Somalia, family and clan relations often dominate identity. Clan affiliations are key in defining a person’s status in society. Family records may not exist, and many Somali citizens rely on clan elders or oral histories for documentation, complicating migration processes where formal documentation is required.

Similarly, in many Middle Eastern communities, clan or tribal affiliations can supersede formal national identities. The complexity of large extended families, especially in polygamous cultures, also brings complications when migrating to Western countries. Determining who qualifies as a legal spouse or child can cause administrative headaches when different wives or children from multiple marriages apply together.

The Challenges of Polygamy and Clan-Based Systems in Immigration

When a family is migrating to Canada from communities with polygamous or clan-based systems, some challenges arise.

In many African and Middle Eastern cultures, polygamous families are common, and often, children from all wives are treated equally. When one member of such a family applies for immigration, it can be challenging to identify who counts as an immediate family member. For example, if a man with multiple wives applies to move to Canada, which wife and which children are included in the official documents? What happens to the other wives and their children?

In cultures where family and clan responsibilities transcend nuclear family definitions, identity becomes fluid. In Kenya, for instance, the term “mbari” refers to an extended clan-like structure where all descendants of a common ancestor live in the same locality. Children are often seen as collective assets of the entire family unit. In some cases, it would not be surprising to see one uncle list his nieces and nephews as his own children when migrating, creating confusion during the vetting process.

Similar issues arise in rural areas of countries like Afghanistan, where a person’s identity is tied to their tribe or village rather than just their immediate family. These differences complicate Canada’s immigration system, which is based on clear, individual family units.

The challenges posed by immigration systems that assume universal standards of identity reflect the broader issue of cultural diversity in our increasingly globalized world. Each country must adapt to these realities if it hopes to successfully manage immigration.

Exposed: Is International Aid a Scam? How Aid Agencies Thrive on Poverty.

“Enlightenment is man’s emergence from his self-imposed immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to use one’s understanding without guidance from another.” Immanuel Kant

In the annals of history, the relationship between the giver and the receiver has always been fraught with complex dynamics. In the modern era, this relationship is often epitomized by international aid—a system ostensibly designed to uplift and empower, yet frequently criticized for perpetuating dependency and, inadvertently or not, dehumanization. This paradox is well encapsulated in the words of the philosopher Immanuel Kant: “Enlightenment is man’s emergence from his self-imposed immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to use one’s understanding without guidance from another.” Kant’s notion of enlightenment underscores a key principle: true development comes from within, through self-empowerment and autonomy, rather than through imposed guidance or external control.

The international aid industry, as critiqued by Graham Hancock in his seminal work Lords of Poverty, often functions less as a means of genuine assistance and more as a mechanism for siphoning taxpayer dollars from Western countries. This siphoning process supports a complex bureaucracy and a network of aid agencies that, rather than solving problems, sometimes exacerbate them.

The UN Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) are a prime example of how the aid industry, while outwardly promoting change and development, can inadvertently perpetuate a cycle of dependency. These goals, established with the noble intent of addressing global issues such as poverty, education, and health, often result in recipient countries relying heavily on external aid and support to achieve these targets. This reliance can lead to a form of “immaturity,” as defined by Immanuel Kant—where countries become dependent on the guidance and resources of external entities, rather than developing their own capacity for self-sufficiency and independent decision-making.

The MDGs aimed to bring significant improvements by providing aid and setting global benchmarks. However, the focus on meeting these externally set goals sometimes overshadowed the need to build local capacities and promote sustainable, homegrown solutions. As a result, countries may find themselves continually dependent on aid to meet international standards, rather than cultivating the skills, resources, and governance needed to independently sustain progress. This cycle of dependency can hinder true development, as it keeps countries from fully emerging from the “immaturity” of relying on others for direction and support.

The Illusion of Aid

At the heart of the critique is the idea that international aid can create an illusion of benevolence. Aid agencies, supported by billions in taxpayer dollars, often present themselves as saviors, stepping in to solve problems in “developing” countries. However, this intervention can lead to a form of dependency that stifles local innovation and self-reliance. The “help” provided can be a double-edged sword, offering immediate relief while undermining long-term solutions that could arise from within the communities themselves. This dynamic is not unlike the historical paternalism seen in colonial relationships, where one party is deemed incapable of managing its affairs without external oversight.

Hancock argues that the aid industry is filled with what he terms the “Lords of Poverty”—individuals and organizations that profit from the status quo of underdevelopment and dependency. These entities often have little incentive to promote real change, as their existence and funding are tied to the continuation of poverty and crisis. In this system, the supposed recipients of aid are reduced to mere statistics in reports and proposals, stripped of their agency and identity. This dehumanization is subtle but pervasive, reinforcing a narrative that casts entire nations and peoples as helpless, unable to emerge from their “self-imposed immaturity” without the guiding hand of international aid.

The Taxpayer’s Burden

For taxpayers in donor countries, the aid industry represents a significant financial burden, often without clear benefits or accountability. The siphoning of funds into the bureaucratic apparatus of aid agencies means that a large portion of aid money never reaches those in need. Instead, it goes towards salaries, administrative costs, and other overhead expenses that sustain the aid industry itself. This misallocation not only undermines the effectiveness of aid but also breeds cynicism and distrust among the very populations whose tax dollars are being used.

Moreover, the perpetuation of dependency through aid can have long-term economic consequences for recipient countries. Instead of fostering an environment where local businesses and economies can thrive, aid can create markets that are overly reliant on foreign goods and services. This dependence can stunt economic growth, making it difficult for these countries to break free from the cycle of poverty.

Re-imagining Aid

To truly address the issues highlighted by Hancock and others, there needs to be a fundamental shift in how aid is conceptualized and delivered. The focus should be on empowering local communities, promoting self-sufficiency, and fostering an environment where innovation and growth can flourish. This means moving away from the traditional model of aid, which often involves large, bureaucratic organizations, and instead supporting grassroots initiatives that are better attuned to the specific needs and contexts of the communities they serve.

Furthermore, there should be greater transparency and accountability in how aid funds are used. Donor countries and taxpayers have a right to know where their money is going and how it is being spent. This accountability should also extend to the recipients of aid, who should be active participants in the decision-making processes that affect their lives and communities.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the dehumanization wrought by the international aid industry is a complex issue that requires a nuanced and thoughtful response. As Kant suggests, enlightenment—and by extension, genuine development—requires a move away from dependency and towards self-empowerment. The current aid system, with its focus on maintaining the status quo and perpetuating dependency, stands in stark contrast to this ideal. By re-imagining aid and focusing on empowerment and transparency, we can begin to break the cycle of dependency and dehumanization that has characterized international aid for far too long.

Sources:

1. Graham Hancock, Lords of Poverty: The Power, Prestige, and Corruption of the International Aid Business.

2. Immanuel Kant, What is Enlightenment? (1784).

He Called You Monkeys?

A Deeper Look at Dehumanization Through International Aid

In 2023, a diplomatic incident sparked outrage and introspection. During a meeting of the Regional Group of East European countries, the Romanian ambassador to Kenya made a comment that left a bitter taste. As monkeys appeared at the window, he quipped, “the African Group had joined us.” This remark, seen as a slur, was not only offensive but also highlighted the persistent issue of dehumanization in international relations. The inaction from the meeting’s hosts, the United Nations, added salt to the wound.

This incident raises important questions about the impact of language and attitudes in international contexts, especially when discussing aid and development. It’s a complex issue, and we must explore it from several angles.

1. The Ambassador’s Comment: A Misjudged Joke?

Perhaps the ambassador thought he was making a light-hearted remark, referencing the theory of evolution where primates share a common ancestry with humans. In this context, primates preceded humans in the African continent and could be considered the original inhabitants. However, humor is a double-edged sword; what may seem amusing to one person can be deeply offensive to another, particularly when it touches on painful historical and racial contexts. This ‘joke,’ whether intended as harmless or not, echoes a long history of dehumanization that cannot be ignored.

2. Ignorance or Intentional Offense?

The ambassador’s comment can also be seen as a reflection of ignorance or subtle racism. It brings to mind the ugly scenes in soccer stadiums where African players have been taunted with bananas, a degrading and racist gesture. Such actions stem from deep-seated prejudices and a lack of respect for the humanity of others. In this case, it’s hard to dismiss the comment as merely thoughtless.

3. The Context of “Developing” Nations

The setting—a UN meeting—adds another layer of complexity. The term “developing” is frequently used to describe African nations, ostensibly to highlight their progress and potential. However, this label can often feel patronizing, as it implies that these nations are perpetually “not there yet,” reinforcing a subtle narrative of inferiority. Rather than merely describing economic status, this term can sometimes be a convenient excuse to sustain a cycle of dependency. International aid agencies, under the guise of assistance, often treat this as an opportunity to channel Western tax dollars to “Misery Merchants” and “Lords of Poverty,” who benefit from maintaining the status quo and funding their lavish lifestyles.

A striking example of this dynamic is Kenya, a nation often perceived as poor, yet capable of constructing a multi million-dollar ($668M) highway. This 27-kilometer-long road was specifically built to transport UN staff between their residences and the international airport. The cost of this highway amounts to $25 million per kilometer, which starkly contrasts with the average cost of building a similar road in Ontario, Canada, which is around $10 million per kilometer. This discrepancy highlights the disparity between the narrative of poverty and the realities on the ground, illustrating how resources are allocated in ways that do not necessarily reflect the needs of the local population.

Graham Hancock’s Lords of Poverty critiques this aid system, arguing that it frequently perpetuates dependence instead of fostering true development. The so-called “developed” nations may offer aid, but it often comes with strings attached, cultivating a narrative that traps recipients in a perpetual state of need. This dynamic not only undermines the dignity of the aid recipients but also stifles their potential for self-sufficiency and growth.

A Deeper Reflection on “Development”

Before the advent of slavery and colonization, African societies were rich in culture, wisdom, and complex social structures. They didn’t see themselves as inferior; they valued harmony with nature, community cohesion, and the dignity of the individual. This holistic worldview fostered a strong sense of self-worth and collective pride.

However, the imposition of foreign ideas and the traumas of colonization have skewed these perceptions. The concept of being “developed” has often been narrowly defined by economic and technological standards, ignoring ethical considerations, sustainability, and the impact of destructive technologies. This narrow definition often overlooks the rich cultural heritage and resilience of African societies.

Reclaiming Our Narrative

The Romanian ambassador’s comment is a stark reminder that words carry weight, especially in international discourse. It’s a call to re-examine how we talk about development and to challenge narratives that undermine the dignity of any group. The incident also underscores the need to shift from a scarcity mindset—where resources and respect are limited and must be competed for—to one of abundance, where every culture and society has value and potential.

As we navigate these conversations, let’s not lose sight of the rich heritage and resilience of African societies. True development should be holistic, embracing not just economic and technological growth, but also ethical practices, environmental sustainability, and a deep respect for all cultures.

We must build bridges of understanding and empathy, celebrating our shared humanity and the diversity that enriches us all. As we move forward, let’s ensure that our actions and words align with our values, fostering a world where every person and culture is respected and valued.

Exposed: Is International Aid a Scam? How Aid Agencies Thrive on Poverty.

You Won’t Believe What Happened to Our Family Dog, Njeki

In the heart of our family story, there is a special chapter dedicated to Njeki, our loyal and dignified dog. His journey with us, marked by joy, mystery, and an eventual poignant farewell, remains etched in our hearts, illustrating the profound bond between humans and their canine companions.

A Mysterious Arrival

I have no clear memory of when or how Dad brought Njeki into our lives, nor do I recall the origin of his name. But I do remember Dad proudly bringing him home, his collar fastened securely around his neck. That collar, a symbol of his place in our family, intrigued me as a child. I vividly remember figuring out the mechanism of the hook and chain by myself, a small triumph that filled me with pride. Mr. Miringa, our neighbor, referred to the collar as a “kibandi,” suggesting it was a form of ID—an indication that Njeki was special.

A Noble Presence

Njeki was a striking mix of brown and black, his presence commanding respect. Unlike the “mobi” dogs in the neighborhood, Njeki did not scavenge for food or engage in undesirable behaviors. Mr. Miringa’s observation that Njeki was not a “mobi” was reassuring to my mother, and indeed, it made Njeki stand out. Our neighborhood was plagued by stray dogs, many of which were left to fend for themselves. Githeri, a common meal of dried and boiled corn grains, was a staple that even dogs would not touch. Yet, Njeki thrived on the care we provided, and his powerful, authoritative bark was a rare but awe-inspiring sound.

The Pride of Our Family

Njeki was more than just a pet; he was a symbol of our family’s pride and the envy of our neighbors. We restricted his movements to our farm, except for trips to the river. The journey to the river was arduous, passing through dense forest and steep valleys, but it was worth it for the pristine, cold mountain water we fetched. My mother, always cautious, took Njeki with her on these early morning trips, finding comfort and protection in his presence.

A Guard and a Friend

Visitors, especially children, would call out from a distance to ensure Njeki wouldn’t attack them upon arrival. Despite his imposing demeanor, Njeki never bit, attacked, or even chased anyone. He was discreet, even in his natural habits, never soiling our home compound. His loyalty and discipline set him apart from other dogs, who often roamed freely, causing mischief.

A Heartbreaking Disappearance

One day, Njeki went missing. We called and whistled for him, but there was no response. Our concern grew as days passed. Some farmers used poisoned baits to protect their crops, and my mother feared Njeki might have fallen victim to one. Deer traps also posed a threat. When Njeki finally returned, he was weak and sick, his eyes reflecting a sorrowful farewell. Soon after, he disappeared again, and we found him lifeless under a bush near our house. I buried him, a task that filled me with a deep sadness, though I did not cry. His absence left a void in our lives.

The Mystery of His Final Days

I often wonder about Njeki’s final days. It was common to see packs of male dogs pursuing a female, a chase that could last for days. Perhaps Njeki had joined such a pursuit, winning the competition with his strength and power. Yet, this victory might have led to his downfall. During mating, sometimes dogs get stuck together for a time. In such situations they were often stoned by boys, unable to defend themselves, flee or find food.

A Lasting Legacy

Njeki’s story is a testament to the bond between humans and dogs, filled with moments of joy, pride, and profound loss. His legacy lives on in our memories, a reminder of the loyalty and love that a canine companion can bring into our lives. Njeki was more than just a dog; he was a cherished member of our family, whose presence and eventual absence left an indelible mark on our hearts.

Why Pray for Miracles When We Can Create Them in Kenya?

At a young age, I was my mom’s principal assistant. This meant being sent on errands outside the house, and nearly every time, I’d return home after dark. Our area was newly settled, sparsely populated, and surrounded by dense bushes. Traveling back and forth, even during the day, was terrifying. At night, it was worse, but even during the day, stray dogs from neighbors roamed the streets.

Sensing my fear and reluctance to run errands, and with no other choice, my mom came up with what I now recognize was a genius idea. She taught me a song to sing as I walked alone, day or night. The lyrics were simple yet powerful: “Jesus will walk with me, Jesus will take me home with His blood, Jesus will be with me because He is the rock.” I repeated these words, and over time, I don’t even remember when the fear disappeared!

This method of prayer proved very effective later in my schooling during final exam times, especially the big three exams for a Kenyan child at that time: CPE, KCSE, and KACSE. My prayer during these times was, “Lord, give me the energy to study, help me remember what I have studied, and keep sleep away during study time.” Throughout my school life, I struggled with sleepiness. Yet, I achieved the most success in my life during the periods that I prayed.

Embracing Action Alongside Prayer

While prayer gave me the courage and strength to face my fears and challenges, it also taught me an invaluable lesson: faith must be coupled with action. Singing my mom’s song made me brave, but it was my feet that carried me home. My prayers during exam time kept me focused, but it was my studying that earned my grades.

Kenya, a nation rich in faith, often relies heavily on prayer to solve its problems. Yet, as much as prayer is a source of strength and comfort, it is action that ultimately brings about change. We pray for rain, but we must also invest in irrigation. We pray for health, but we must also build hospitals and train healthcare workers. We pray for peace, but we must also create effective law enforcement and community policing.

From Prayer to Practicality

Imagine the transformation if we balanced our spiritual fervor with practical efforts. The energy and time spent praying for jobs could be redirected towards creating entrepreneurial ventures, developing vocational skills, and fostering innovation. By embracing a proactive approach, we can build a future where our prayers are not just words but are manifested through our actions.

A New Dawn for Kenya

Let us honor our faith by turning our prayers into plans, our hopes into strategies, and our dreams into realities. Together, we can create a Kenya where prayers inspire us to take action, where our faith fuels our determination, and where our collective efforts lead to a brighter, more prosperous future for all.

The Perils of Unchanging Social Systems and How to Overcome Them

Living a Double Life in Canada: From White to Black Man

When I arrived in Canada, I was neither black nor white; I was simply a man. Stepping out of Pearson Airport that cold winter night at 2 AM, ready to catch a taxi to the Bond Place Hotel in downtown Toronto, I carried with me the wisdom imparted by my elementary school teachers and classmates: “What one man can do, I can do too.”

The Conundrum of Knowledge

Unbeknownst to me at that time, I faced a perplexing conundrum consisting of four parts:

1. What I knew I didn’t know, and therefore sought answers for.

2. What Canadians knew that I did not know, and therefore educated me about.

3. What I did not know I didn’t know.

4. What Canadians did not know that I did not know.

From the last two categories, some of the things I had to learn included how to pump gas into a car, how to add air pressure to a tire with a slow puncture, which of the screaming headlines in the newspapers was worth my 50 cents, and where to navigate to on the radio dial.

Through a new immigrant settlement training program I attended, I learned that most job opportunities were advertised in the Toronto Star’s Saturday edition. A Kenyan friend also informed me that the Toronto Star was akin to the Daily Nation in Nairobi. So, for about 10 months, I spent part of my visa mandatory settlement funds on the Toronto Star, enjoying and being informed by its articles. However, it was not very useful as a source of jobs in technology.

Eerie Familiarity

Two things struck me while reading the Star. One was that whenever I read an article about Black people’s complaints about white people, it sounded eerily familiar. It occurred to me that if I changed just a few words in the Toronto Star articles, people in Nairobi would definitely find them true and identify with the context. The words I would change were: White for Kikuyu and racism for tribalism.

Learning About Canadian Society

As years went by, I learned more about Canadian society. One thing I found intriguing was the assertion that a Black person in Canada has to work several times as hard as a white person to achieve the same progress in school, work, and business. The question then is, how can you tell this unless you have lived both lives of a Black person and a white person?

It occurred to me that I might have done just that. Lived that double life! From birth to around 2010, when I joined the Misery Merchants in the realms of the Lords of Poverty, I was a white man, and from 2010 to date, a Black man.

Reflections and Realizations

Through these reflections, I came to appreciate just how profound and transformative my journey in Canada has been. Each challenge and experience has deepened my understanding and sparked a passion for growth. This journey has gifted me with unique insights and a profound appreciation for the incredible resilience and determination it takes to overcome obstacles.

Sharing My Journey

I will share my thoughts in two articles:

1. My Life as a White Man

2. My Life as a Black Man

Each article will delve into the nuances and complexities of living through these dual experiences, offering a perspective that bridges understanding and fosters empathy.

Conclusion

The journey of navigating life in a new country, armed with both the wisdom of my past and the knowledge gained from my experiences in Canada, has been both challenging and enlightening. By sharing my story, I hope to shed light on the broader issues of societal dynamics and the importance of empathy and understanding in creating a more inclusive world.

Sources

Kikuyu privilege is akin to white or male privilege in that most Kikuyus are not even aware of it: https://www.theelephant.info/opinion/2019/07/20/why-im-no-longer-talking-to-kikuyus-about-tribe/

Who Are the Kikuyu? And why do Kenya’s other tribes resent them so much? : https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2008/02/why-do-kenya-s-other-tribes-resent-the-kikuyu.html

Professionally qualified teachers were over-represented in the regions where the Kikuyu predominate: https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ903854.pdf

Accumulation of Kikuyu capital in the finance and agricultural sectors. https://library.fes.de/pdf-files/bueros/kenia/09859.pdf

Why Immigrants Should Embrace the Social Systems and Processes That Built the West

The causes for immigration, as touted by The Misery Merchants and The Lords of Poverty (also known as UN, IMF and such organizations), are oversimplified narratives designed to maximize the amount of tax money they receive from western countries. They miss the mark on the deeper, more impactful reasons behind our journeys. Personally, my decision to migrate to Canada wasn’t about escaping hardship alone. It was about seeking out the robust systems and processes that make a society thrive—those invisible yet powerful mechanisms that shape a community’s success and resilience.

As an immigrant navigating a new life in a Eurocentric country, it’s natural to cling to the familiar practices and customs of your homeland. However, the stark differences between developing countries and Eurocentric nations are not just geographical or economic—they stem from deeply entrenched social systems and processes that drive societal progress. Embracing these systems can significantly enhance your experience and opportunities in your new home.

Understanding the Foundations

Michael O’Sullivan, in his book “The Levelling: What’s Next After Globalization,” emphasizes that the success of Eurocentric countries is largely due to the robust systems they have implemented. These systems ensure a level playing field, promote transparency, and facilitate efficient governance. By incorporating such systems into our daily lives, we can contribute to a society that thrives on collective progress rather than individual gain.

Similarly, John J. Mearsheimer in “The Great Delusion: Liberal Dreams and International Realities,” discusses how liberal democratic values underpin the success of Western nations. These values foster an environment where honesty, accountability, and the common good are paramount. Adopting these principles can help immigrants integrate more smoothly into their new societies.

The Role of Honesty and Integrity

One of the cornerstones of Eurocentric systems is honesty. It’s said that honesty is the best policy, and this couldn’t be truer in these societies. The transparency and trust that come from honesty not only build personal credibility but also strengthen societal bonds. Jordan B. Peterson, a renowned psychologist, often speaks about the importance of truth in his works. He argues that by being honest, individuals contribute to the stability and trust within a society, making it more resilient and prosperous.

Prioritizing the Common Good

In many developing countries, there’s a cultural emphasis on prioritizing the welfare of family and friends. While this is noble, it sometimes comes at the expense of the wider society. Kishore Mahbubani, in his writings, points out that the success of Western nations is largely due to their focus on the common good. Policies and practices that benefit the majority often take precedence over those that benefit a select few. By shifting our focus from individual or familial gain to societal welfare, we can contribute to creating a more equitable and prosperous community.

Embracing New Systems

To thrive in a Eurocentric country, it’s crucial to adopt and respect the systems in place. This means adhering to laws and regulations, participating in civic duties, and embracing practices that may be different from those back home but are designed to maintain order and fairness.

Legal Systems: Understanding and respecting the legal framework is essential. This includes everything from following traffic rules and city by-laws to understanding your rights and responsibilities as a resident or citizen.
Educational Systems: Invest in education not only as a means of personal advancement but as a way to contribute to societal progress. Education in Eurocentric countries often emphasizes critical thinking and innovation, skills that are invaluable in today’s global economy.
Healthcare Systems: Engage actively with the healthcare system, which emphasizes principles of accessibility and preventative care. These principles are designed to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to lead a healthy life. It’s important to recognize, however, that resources to provide this service are finite and must be used wisely to maintain the system’s sustainability.
Welfare Systems: Utilize the welfare systems responsibly, which are designed to provide support in times of need. It’s crucial to avoid any form of cheating or exploitation, as these systems rely on honesty and integrity to function effectively and sustainably. Misuse of these resources not only undermines the system but also diminishes trust and support for those who genuinely need assistance.

By embracing these systems, immigrants can integrate more smoothly into their new communities and contribute positively to the social fabric of their new homes.

Moving Forward Together

Immigrating to a Eurocentric country is an opportunity to start anew, not just for yourself but for your future generations. By adopting the systems and values that have made these countries successful, you can pave the way for a better future. As the saying goes, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Embrace the systems, participate actively in your new community, and work towards the common good.

By adopting these Eurocentric systems and values, immigrants can not only improve their own lives but also contribute to the continued success and progress of their new homes.

Together, we can build a society that is just, prosperous, and inclusive.

The Greatest Gift We Can Give

In conclusion, I argue that the most impactful remittance we can send back to our homelands is not monetary but philosophical—the Eurocentric systems that have birthed modernity. When we send money, it may momentarily uplift our family and friends, but it does little for the broader society. Instead, let’s share the bedrock principles of honesty, transparency, and accountability. These are the cornerstones upon which Eurocentric countries have built their enduring prosperity. By adopting and advocating for these systems, we can foster lasting change and contribute to a brighter, more equitable future for all. Let us be the catalysts for this transformation, one system at a time.

Read: Break Free: The Perils of Unchanging Social Systems and How to Overcome Them

When Two Facebook Posts Changed How I See My Dad Forever.

On Father’s Day, My Journey Begins

On Father’s Day, my kids called and messaged to wish me well. As Father’s Day was fading into the rear view mirror, I logged onto Facebook. Two messages, for no particular reason, caught my eye. Two people had written about fathers: one, a former colleague from my days with the Misery Merchants in the realm of The Lords of Poverty, and the other, the straight-talking leader of the PPC. Their heartfelt words about fathers stirred something deep within me, and I found myself reflecting on my own father.

A Void to Fill

I had neither messaged nor called him. In fact, I hadn’t even remembered him on the day. Those two Facebook messages made me wonder: what do I truly know about my dad? Is this even a relevant question? Maybe not, but I still felt a void that needed filling. What if I wrote about my earliest memory of him? Let me take you back to a time before my eleventh birthday.

The Evening We Heard Music

One evening, just after dusk, my brother and I were walking up the slopes of Mount Kipipiri to our house. We had gone to fetch milk from Njenga Muiga’s place. The milk was a variety called “mathace,” a cheap, low-quality kind because Njenga Muiga would skim off the cream to sell separately. He had learned the skill to do so from his former colonial master.

As we crossed the trench that marked the boundary to our farm, we heard music coming from up the mountain, in the direction of our house. Our home was on the same latitude as the next farm, and the last houses before the forest that stretched up to the mountain’s peak. Someday, I hope to take a trip from behind our house to the top of that mountain. As we climbed, now dark, we talked about the music, unsure whether it was coming from our house or the neighbors’. My little brother, three and a half years my junior, couldn’t recognize the sound. But I speculated that maybe our dad was home and playing a guitar. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I thought this, but I seem to recall my mom mentioning that dad used to play the guitar, even though I can’t find a clear memory of it.

The Radio Arrival

We hurried home, and when we arrived, our dad was indeed home. It was an exciting moment! What’s more, he had brought a radio—a Toshiba which required four batteries. That radio lasted for a very long time. We were among the few families that owned a radio.

Infrequent Visits

My dad soon left again, and I don’t remember the next time I saw him. Before I turned eleven, I can only recall three or four times he was home. Some fathers lived with their families, though about a decade earlier, these men would have been working as laborers on settlers’ farms. However, other men, like my dad, were away working in some distant town. I remember two neighbors who, like my dad, were seldom home. They would come back once a year for what was called annual leave. They were painters working for the government in some distant town. They didn’t come home for Christmas, as it wasn’t celebrated in our community at that time, but only for their annual leave.

The Unpredictable Father

My dad never came home on any predictable schedule. He didn’t have a regular job to let him go home on annual leave. With no formal schooling or training, the day of the week, date of the month, or season of the year probably meant nothing to him. That’s my guess. I don’t really know what he did to make a living back then.

Mom’s Visits to Prison

Mom told me that my dad was arrested twice and spent extended periods in prison remand. One stint lasted about three years. In both cases, he was never convicted. I guess he didn’t have anyone to be a surety in court, allowing him go home and attend court sessions only when his case was mentioned. Mom shared this information, with much sadness and disappointment in her voice, how she had gone to visit him in prison. It was in Nakuru.

A Mother’s Sacrifice

She had arrived at the prison gate early in the morning, as required. It was a difficult feat given the distance, erratic public transportation, poor roads, and financial constraints. She identified herself as the wife of Gichuru Kamotho (my dad) and, like every other visitor, was ushered into the waiting room. Other visitors came and went, meeting with their loved ones. But my mom waited in vain, despite being assured that dad had been informed of her visit and presence. At the end of the visiting time, my mom left, disappointed, heartbroken and ashamed. Who did the prison warders think she really was?

Disenfranchised Men

I didn’t have a relationship with my dad because he was away from home. If I had been born 100 years earlier, this wouldn’t have been the case. When European settlers arrived, they couldn’t find farm laborers, so they designed a scheme to force men to leave their families and work on the farms. The earnings from this labor went to paying taxes. Men didn’t labor on the settlers’ farms to provide for their families—there was no need for money in a community where every family produced their own food. My dad wouldn’t have spent time in prison remand either, because our community didn’t have such systems. Men have been disenfranchised from their roles in the family since then.

A Modern Attack on Men

This attack on men has continued to this day. One such attack is Canada’s program to help women and girls around the world. I’m confident this program doesn’t involve women in Norway, but it does in Kenya. The effect is separating men like my dad from their families. This has led to a breakdown in societal structures, not just in Kenya, but in many other countries. The result includes a large number of people fleeing their Democratically led countries to Euro-centric countries as immigrants, where they are often unwelcome.

Cherish and Connect

Reflecting on these memories and thoughts, I realize the importance of cherishing and acknowledging our loved ones. So, let’s not wait for another Father’s Day to reach out and connect. Share your stories, express your love, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll bridge the gaps left by the past.

Stop the Aid, Stop the Damage, Stop Refugees

British Journalist Graham Hancock 1989:

“Every year, the richest countries foot the bill for global official aid, funded by ordinary taxpayers who believe their contributions help the poorest. However, the reality of where this money goes is shocking and far from the intended purpose.”

Sign the petition

Canadian Academic Gerald Caplan 2006:

“Africa is a mess and it’s not going to get better any time soon”

Sign the petition

Kenyan Professor and Author Dr. James McFie 2024:

“Kenya Will End Up Like Haiti”

Sign the petition

Recipients of Canada Aid (2005-2015), where are they now? Continue for answers..

Stop the Immigrants Factory!

Stop Misuse of Your Tax Dollars!
Take Action Now! Sign the petition: https://easytx.ca/stoptheaid/ #canadaimmigration #Massimmigration

Why Did You Run Away from the Mountain?

When my grandparents were born, their arrival into this world was marked by a simple, yet profound ritual. There were no baby showers laden with gifts and cash; instead, the new mother, my great-grandmother, would be surrounded by women from the neighborhood, there to assist in the delivery. These women, who we might now call midwives, played a crucial role. Once the baby was born and its gender determined, the women would make a celebratory sound called “ngemi.” Twice for a girl, four times for a boy. Contrast this with the birth of my own children, who were greeted not by tradition, but by a hospital bill.

In just a generation, we have shifted from a life where cash was irrelevant, to a world where cash reigns supreme. To get that cash, we often have to sell something to a Eurocentric world, usually raw materials, which barely cover our expenses. To make up the shortfall, African governments resort to begging and borrowing—beggrowing—from the rest of the world. This has been the story for decades. I recall in the 80s, whenever the Kenyan Minister of Finance had an appointment in Washington, it was front-page news. Today, the narrative remains the same but with some notable changes.

The first is subtle: it’s no longer just the ministers who go on beggrowing missions, but the presidents themselves, a sign of the increasing desperation. These missions are no longer limited to Washington D.C.; they are global. Our leaders trot from west to east, north to south, beggrowing.

The second change is more significant and has everyone talking. Africans have noticed that their leaders live lavishly, enjoying the spoils of their beggrowing trips. Like sheep following a shepherd, ordinary Africans have decided to emulate them. They may not afford private jets, business class, or presidential suites, but with the help of family, friends, and by selling family assets, they scrape together enough for an economy ticket. But woe unto them, obtaining a visa to any Eurocentric country is often harder than getting water from a stone. I should know—I am one of them.

As if to add insult to injury and death, to the Africans dismay, they are now increasingly not welcome anywhere, except perhaps in Rwanda and Kenya.

I wasn’t always a wannabe European. Up until my children were born, I never considered leaving my country except for short trips if the opportunity arose. But things changed. I noticed that the best jobs went to those with Eurocentric educations, often the children of the well-to-do. I began to think I wanted the same for my children.

During my first trip to Europe, I went to Belgium and was impressed by the order and productivity of the people. One thing stood out: in the four weeks I was there, I never had to brush my shoes. There was no dust. Hard to believe.

I like order, a clean environment, great education for my kids, and opportunities for amazing careers in fields like aerospace, biotechnology, finance, agriculture, and research. A family friend informed us that Canada accepts skilled immigrants. I visited their website to learn more. Between my wife and me, the skilled part was a no-brainer, but the process came with a high price and the risk of losing the application fee. Confident in our abilities, we gathered our documents and paid the processing fee. For two years, we waited, our lives on hold, selling everything to raise the settlement fee and fight tickets for the four of us.

We arrived in Canada as skilled immigrants, but recently I’ve begun to rethink that status. I’ve been informed by a Nigerian lawyer and human rights advocate that Africans are not merely migrating; they are fleeing, risking everything, including their lives, for the hope of a better life in any Eurocentric country.

So, why are we fleeing?

The answer lies in the stark contrast between our values and those we aspire to adopt. In my homeland, we cherish community, tradition, and a slower pace of life. But in the modern world, particularly in Eurocentric countries, success is measured by different metrics: individual achievement, material wealth, and the ability to provide a certain standard of living for one’s family.

Adapting to Canadian values does not mean abandoning our roots. It means integrating the best of both worlds. We can keep our rich traditions alive while embracing the opportunities that come with living in a developed country. We must learn to value order, education, and the rule of law. We must adapt to a society that values punctuality, cleanliness, and productivity.

Adapting is not about losing ourselves; it’s about evolving. It’s about running away from the mountain of old limitations and climbing the mountain of new possibilities. We owe it to ourselves and our children to strive for a life that marries our rich heritage with the promise of a brighter future.

In the end, fleeing is not about fear. It’s about hope. It’s about the dream of a better life, where we are not defined by the scarcity of our resources but by the abundance of our potential. So, we run from the mountain, not because we fear it, but because we believe in the promise that lies beyond it.