One day when I was in high school, I was at home for half term when my mum brought some ugali on the table. Looking at the ugali and examining my appetite, I complained that the ugali was too small. My mum told me go ahead and eat the whole of it, she would cook another one. Of course, like the selfish brat I am, I ate everything and only noticed that there was no extra unga to cook another ugali after washing my hands and drinking water.
All societies have heroes. Stories about heroes are an integral part of our social fabric. In fact, the myth of the hero, someone who overcomes odds to save his or her people, is an important cultural narrative that is meant to not only inspire us to bravery and ethical living but also help us deal with our existential anxieties.
The legends of Lwanda Magere, Dedan Kimathi, Kotalel arap Samoei, Mekatilili wa Menza and many others were passed down to us as cultural artefacts of the greatest ideals and values that we should aspire to. Almost all movies have heroes and so do children’s stories. We are born with an innate need to hear stories of heroes and also aspire to be like them.
But our heroes are dead.
We no longer look up to people who make a positive contribution to society. The nurse who cares for your mother in ICU. The mortician who cleans and dresses your loved one. The house- help who cares for your kids like their own. The kindergarten teacher who teaches your kid the alphabet is considered a nobody because she does not own the school. Your uncle and auntie who have paid their dues in public service and have retired quietly, without scandal, are no longer role models. We have killed our heroes.
But as human beings our unconscious need for heroes still persists. So, like the Israelites who made a golden calf to worship when Moses tarried on the mountain, we have made a paper hero. The celebrity is the new hero. Our new heroes are people who are famous for being famous. From psychopaths, con-artists to politicians, charlatans to gamblers. Anyone who becomes famous for whatever reason is considered a hero.
A lady who trends for twerking naked is a hero. An individual who gambles and wins the jackpot is a hero. Anyone who goes viral is a hero. Our heroes are invited by the media to share motivational stories about their journey. Even githeri man was honored by the government with a state commendation for his troubles.
But just like the Israelites engaged in debauchery and blasphemous acts while worshipping the golden calf, the idolatry of celebrities has led to mass hysteria and neurosis. We are obsessed with intimate details of our paper heroes, we want to know what they eat for breakfast, and how they squat when they take a dump. As if that would make us successful too.
Our paper heroes on the other hand curate a public image of invulnerability and perfection. And provide us with a colorful narrative of how they made it.
But just like a piece of paper burns into flames when thrown into fire, our paper heroes crumble like a house of cards sooner rather than later. Then we go into a frenzy, when we realize that our heroes are frauds and flawed. We get a feeling of schadenfreude when our idols are involved in scandal. A feeling that we are better than them because we have not sinned like them. We become heroes in our eyes.
Heroes yes, but paper heroes too.
Life is life
Fabio