JUMA: Rising shamelessness and the lose of morals

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Once upon a time, being shamed acted as a natural deterrent to bad behaviour. A time when being caught in wrongdoing meant facing societal rejection and personal disgrace. But today, Kenya is increasingly becoming a society in which it seems the less shame one feels for their actions, the more celebrated they are.

From senior government officials to social media influencers, and even ordinary citizens, shamelessness is fast becoming a badge of honour.

Take the ongoing fiasco with Nairobi’s roads as an example. Shortly after the completion of the Nairobi Expressway, it became evident the lower part of Mombasa Road needed a complete overhaul.

Instead of implementing a long- term, well-thought-out solution, someone at the Ministry of Roads allegedly saw an opportunity to ‘eat’.

A contract was floated for the supply of red soil along the stretch from Nyayo Stadium to Bellevue, turning the road into a dust bowl. Predictably, another tender was issued months later, this time for planting flowers. Never mind that, in its unprotected state, the flowers stood zero chance of survival. Millions were sunk into a project doomed to fail, yet no one flinched.

Where did the money go? Who signed off on these contracts? These are questions that should provoke outrage. Yet, in our new era of being impervious to right behaviour and righteous criticism, such blatant wastage of taxpayer money is met with resignation, even admiration in some quarters.

The officials responsible sit smugly in their offices, patting themselves on the back for once again fooling the public. Meanwhile, that same stretch of road, meant to be the face of our capital city, has become an open defaecation zone, a makeshift dumping site, and home to street families.

We pretend not to see. Even when signs reading ‘Usikojoe Hapa’ (‘Do not urinate here’) are erected, these very spots are turned into public toilets. Shamelessness reigns supreme.

Apart from government, the culture of shamelessness has permeated our everyday lives. On social media, the surest way to gain followers is to do something outrageous.

Insults, reckless stunts, public humiliation — nothing is off-limits or considered in bad taste. Doing ‘the right thing’ is seen as boring.

Even elected leaders have caught on, knowing that a ridiculous stunt will gain them more attention than meaningful legislation. And it’s not just online. We see it in everyday interactions: People throwing garbage out of oving cars; motorists overlapping in traffic with zero regard for rules; religious leaders making a spectacle of their faith because theatrics sells; shamelessness is not only accepted — it is often rewarded.

As the Leonard Mambo Mbotela used to ask, “Je, huu ni ungwana?” (“Is this proper conduct?”). That question is more relevant today than ever.

We argue about everything in this country, yet the one conversation we never have is about discipline. The idea that ‘the end justifies the means’ is choking our nation.

Corruption, lawlessness, and moral decay are all symptoms of a deeper disease — our collective loss of shame. It starts with doing the small ‘right things’: stop littering; stay in your lane in traffic; follow basic social etiquette.

Kenya must decide: will we continue down this path where wrongdoing, both large-scale and petty, is normalised, or will we reclaim our lost sense of decency?