So today, for some reason I choose not to go into, I found that I required the name of my chief, my location and my sub-location. I have none of these at hand. Who needs this information, anyway, apart from when you're getting an Identity Card. Or when you're doing what I was doing today? (Oh, and when you've been sent home from public Uni because you've rioted and you've been ordered to sign a register at your chief's place once a week, how could I forget that?)
Anyhoo: What to do? Where to start?
I tried the City Council of Nairobi
online. Don’t ask why. Don’t have a clue. (Which was probably why. Oh my.)
Then I went over to the ministry of Provincial Administration and Internal Security’s
website. It is fairly easy to navigate, but difficult to mine for information. Mainly because there’s not a lot of what you’d imagine is the obvious kind of information to put up there. But, at least I managed to harvest a contact number for Nairobi Province.
(For every other province, the contact is a Post Office Box. Very helpful (not).)
Anyway, so I call this number, listed as a Harambee House number and I ask the person at the other end of the line where I should go to get information about my location, sub-location and chief. She gives me a Nyayo House telephone number, tells me it’s the District Commissioner’s Office, and assures me they’ll help me. I say thank you, you’ve been very helpful, and hang up.
I call the number and the voice on the other end of the line tells me I’ve been misdirected, but she offers me another number, a number in Riruta, and tells me that’s where the DO is and he’ll help me. Again I say thank you, you’ve been very helpful and hang up.
I call this third number and go through my introduction then explain what I’m looking for. This time, the male voice on the other side of the phone is decidedly hostile. And unnecessarily confrontational.
Ati wewe ni nani? Who are you? I’m a little taken aback but I respond that I’m a resident of _________ and repeat, once again, what I’m looking for. He demands to know who I am.
Now me who's goat did I choke, please?I decline to give him my name because I don’t like his tone.
I go through the same routine, slowly: I’m a resident of __________ and I’m looking for the name of my location and sub-location, as well as the name of my chief.
He does the imitation of a
harumph and then I don’t know what gets into him (maybe he glances at his performance contract?) but suddenly he’s all polite and helpful. He offers me a cell phone number, tells me that’s the chief’s number and that I should call him, he’ll help me.
I take it down, say thank you very much and proceed to call the number. It is answered on the second ring. I ask is that _________ (I have his first name by now). He confirms that it is. I tell him I’m calling because I’m trying to track down my chief and could it be him? He asks me where I live. I give him this information. He tells me he is indeed the chief of my sub-location. I ask for his full name. He gives it to me. And could he confirm the name of the location and sub-location? He does. Very helpful, very professional.
Twenty-seven minutes from start of quest to end of quest.
And some of that time I wasted trying to get as close a shot of my flat as I could on Google Earth via the City Council of Nairobi website. (Friday afternoon and whatnot.)
Not bad, all things considered.
Marks off for the gruff beginning by the respondent at the Riruta Office, and for the fact that this information could very well have been listed on their website, therefore saving me the great mobile trek to track it down. But, other than that, fairly decent service, and I didn’t get the urge to pull out my hair while in search of public information.
Also, extra marks for encountering no gatekeepers along the way.
Plus, I was able do all this while seated at my desk.
And, and, and, I hadn’t realised there was so much Government of Kenya information available online now.
Not bad, past experiences considered.It's my window, but I don't own the view.
22:27
