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Dear Governor Kihika, here's the County you're coming back to

Nakuru Governor Susan Kihika.

Photo credit: COURTESY

Dear Madam Governor, 

Where do I even begin...

While you were away, Nakuru has been through a lot. From forced disappearances at the Lake Nakuru National park, to a body mysteriously vanishing from the Nakuru County Teaching and Referral Hospital, to an alleged case of medical negligence at the same hospital, and even a tragic femicide case that's left us with more questions than answers.

Let’s just say Nakuru is scared, bruised, and battered. And oh! Did I mention that at some point, the residents honestly didn’t know who was running the County in your absence?

To be very clear, the Nakuru you’re coming back to is not the same one you left five months ago.

Let’s start from the beginning: we have a mother in Kivumbini who hasn’t seen her son, Brian Odhiambo in four months.

And no—it’s not because he took a trip to Mombasa for a deep-sea diving adventure. According to her, he was taken by KWS officers and to this day, she hasn’t seen or heard from him. Elizabeth’s only plea? Justice for her 31-year-old son.

And now, ladies and gentlemen... can someone please address the elephant in the room?

Actually, don’t mind if I do.

The Nakuru County Teaching and Referral Hospital.

 Honestly, this place deserves its own letter. But for now, let’s just say—ukistaajabu ya Musa utaona ya Firauni. Even the wahengas underestimated NCTRH.

One day Nakuru woke up to the shocking news that a body had disappeared from the morgue. Just like that. This is the story of baby Mercy Chepng’eno. Her parents are still seeking closure. I won’t speak too much about it since the matter is in court—but still mwili inapotea aje?

And that’s not even the worst of it. Did I mention that medicine worth Sh 2 million expired on the hospital shelves? That one shook us to the core. Especially when you realize the drugs in question were meant for HIV patients.

And then there's Elizabeth Wairimu. Young, healthy, excited to become a mom—and now, gone. She’ll never get to see her child’s first birthday. We won’t dive too deep into the negligence angle, but this incident exposed some glaring weaknesses at the hospital.

From ICU beds to staff shortages—kidogo inapiga hospitali chenga.

Meanwhile, traders in town are crying out for help. There’s some silent war over stalls going on, and we keep hearing about imminent protests. But they never quite happen.

Still, this issue needs to be handled—before we see people out on the streets waving banners and chanting... you know, those slogans that start with "Ruto" and end with "go." (That one was recently declared illegal, remember?)

And just before we wrap this up—there were whispers in the streets. Word was that some folks in the County Assembly were burning the midnight oil, plotting how to impeach you. The thought of you and Mwangaza being in the same WhatsApp group?

Anyway, that is the lay of the land.

Kwa hayo mengi na machache, welcome back?