If the elite and gun owners can be felled, then who is safe?

In light of the killing of Kabete MP George Muchai, I have been compelled to re-examine my attitude towards security, or the lack thereof, in Kenya. Actually, insecurity was in my mind even before the chilling killing of the MP, his driver and two bodyguards.
Last week, I visited an elementary school as part of a trip to talk about our country. The US being what it is—a land of competition—the classroom I was visiting turned out to be one for so-called gifted students.
In the educational parlance of these parts, it means these children are overachievers who need special kind of teaching to thrive. From the moment they enter the education system, the gifted are identified and separated. So, these were some pretty smart nine year-old we met.
One by one, we gave our presentations. One by one the questions came. A little boy asked same question thrice. “Do you feel safe in Brazil?” “Do you feel safe in Indonesia?” “Do you feel safe in Kenya?” For some reason, the question took me aback. Perhaps, I was offended.
Come on, how could he ask such a question? What does he think lies beyond the US borders? The Wild West? Anarchy? The Brazilian was quite honest. “No, I don’t feel safe.” His reasoning was simple. His government was thorough in its preparations for the 2014 World Cup.
A lot of the criminal elements of Rio de Janeiro had been weeded out. Unfortunately, they had fled and sought refuge in his hometown. As for the Indonesian girl, she just did not feel safe in Indonesia. Simple as that. My answer was that I felt safe.
But the level of safety that I was accustomed to was perhaps not equivalent to the little boy’s. Perhaps, my threshold of tolerance for insecurity was much higher. Maybe, I was thinking I have lived in Kenya, but also because I have lived a substantial portion of my life in Nairobi’s Dandora estate.
Not exactly safe. Perhaps, that was the wrong answer. I should not be used to that kind of insecurity. Or, is my threshold too high? Come to think of it, when did it become normal for a high-level dignitary to be killed with such brazen abandon?
Truth is that with all multiple assassinations we have had from Pio Gama Pinto, to Tom Mboya to Robert Ouko, we have created a culture where this is normal. The death of any citizen is a tragedy regardless of the status they held in life. However, killing of the elite in itself smacks of something different. Ordinary wananchi are left feeling even more vulnerable. The question they ask themselves: “If the gods on Olympus can fall, then who is safe?” The writer is a Master’s of Public Affairs student at Park University, Kansas City, US—janek.sunga@park.edu