Someone help the Chief Likoni gain the pride of his office

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The location is the Chief’s office Likoni. The time is 11.00a.m. The sweltering Mombasa heat makes you feel like you want to go topless. *wink.
Being a Monday, a crowd has already built at the office waiting to be served by the Chief. And he does not disappoint. His office keeps spitting out client after client. However, the number of service seekers doesn’t seem to dwindle and are increasing by the minute.
When it is my turn to be served, I cheerfully greet the chief who responds with an air of indifference. He already looks tired. He momentarily puts his hands behind his head and yawns. Behind him is an open window from where not less than three metres away is a roadside hotel. Whenever the lazy wind changes it direction, smoke mixed with the smell of chapatti wafts into the Chief’s office distracting his attention.
His office, a residential house turned office must be the most uninspiring place to work in. The last time it saw a coat of paint must have been when it was occupied last by a resident.  The table is old type government office furniture made of oak and seeming to say I will be here for as long as I want, I am not going anywhere.  The chairs including that of the chief are equally old with sisal strands jutting out.  You can see the discomfort of the chief as he keeps shifting his position. There is nothing to write home about the dusty floor on which thousands of dusty feet have stepped on as they seek crucial government services.
There is neither a fan nor an air-conditioner and the chief has to keep battling the heat. The ceiling says that it must have been eons since the dangling wires saw a bulb. The wires have already attracted soot and dust from the nearby hotel and road respectively.
The electricity switchbox outside the office tells the same story. Electricity went its way years ago. (What a glaring contradiction when the Government is upbeat about installing electricity at the roads) The fuse box yawningly looks and begs for someone to fill it. As I leave the office, I decide in my own small way to help the Chief regain the pride of his office. I do a tweet:
Even as I wait to see if there will be any response from the powers that be, I cannot help but sympathise with the Chief knowing that
i)                    He is not an A.I.E holder.
ii)                  The decision to refurbish his office lies with someone else who is probably so detached and concerned about his comfort rather than the interest of this crucial grass root government office.
iii)                Organisations interested in CSR can help refurbish the office and maybe build a wall that will separate the chief from the hotel, give the office a new coat of paint and reconnect him with electricity.
Is anyone listening?


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