I hate Santa. I despise the whole old man in a red suit. I’m not against old men, per se. I quite like them. I just think that someone dressed in a weather-inappropriate suit, wearing a fake beard and going “Ho, ho, ho!” is spooky. You see them sitting behind fences in shopping centres, being mobbed by overzealous mums and screaming children. Little kids don’t actually like Santa. It’s Mum’s trip. She’s the one staple- gunning the terrified bawling infant to some old bloke’s leg so she can have a Santa photo. What’s with the Santa photo?

There is no such thing as the magic of Christmas. It’s a PR campaign. I am sure when Mary and Joseph first conceptualized Christmas with their off the- wall plan to give birth in a barn, they had no intention of it becoming a retail bonanza. Who would have thought that some pregnant teenager with a thing for authority figures, who ended up settling for a tradesman with no more than a donkey to his name, would have spawned not only the son of God, but also the biggest day on the retail calendar?

We’re all so over-indulged. When I was a kid, getting a present used to mean something. Christmas meant two gifts under the tree. Not 200. For me it was usually something like a Bible and a Barbie. It was my mother’s plan for religious and gender indoctrination. Except for my birthday, these were the only gifts I received all year. I made Barbie act out the Bible stories. She made a startling Virgin Mary, riding in to Bethelem on Brian, my fox terrier, wearing only a tutu. She gave birth to baby Jesus in the stereo cabinet that housed my mum’s Barry Manilow collection.

Hang on, think about it: Santa is an anagram of Satan. Satan Claus. HO HO HO. The dark capitalist prince of overspending and maxed-out credit cards. So I’ve decided that I’m not going to perpetuate this ridiculous commercial myth. And no, I’m not wrecking the magic of my daughter’s childhood. If the only magic that our children ever have is a belief in imaginary figures like Santa, marketing gimmicks designed to increase retail profits, then I’d rather she grow up a sad old cynic like me.

I don’t think believing in Santa is healthy. It teaches us to distrust the adult world and proves outright that our parents lie to us. I was five when I found out that Santa wasn’t real. I’d left my teddy out to greet him and a neighbourhood dog had torn him to shreds. When I woke up to the polyester-and-flocking carnage all over the front lawn, I knew that Santa had anger management issues.

I think it’s time we had a Santa-free Christmas and boycotted his politically incorrect abuse of dwarves as slave labour. Santa is not the jolly, gift-giving, red-suited fatty who lives in the North Pole with his equally over-the-top wife. Santa is the hard working mother, or father, who’s had to work extra long hours to buy their darling little ungrateful treasures such as iPads and mobile phones. And some of us have even had to do the odd shift as a HO

HO HO. Ah, the magic.

In recent coverage, Dr. Willy has promised the people of Nairobi to “rebrand” the Kenyan justice system’s reputation. The chief justice has confirmed in interviews that the judiciary loses 60% of its revenue through corruption (but then, who, literally, is counting?). From court clerks who take bribes to paralegals who make files disappear, from compromised magistrates to judges who delay cases for years, Willy has his work cut out for him. None of which is much consolation for victims, friends and families who deserve more immediate resolution in their cases – cases where the defendants seem to have more rights and liberties than the aggrieved parties.

The fact remains that Willy’s judicial restoration is far behind the astounding backlog of cases and corruption that jam our court system from head to toe. Ah, but there are exceptions. Witness the commendable speed with which Elgina Bwire Oliacha, a self-confessed Al-Shabaab member, was convicted and sentenced in just a few days in early November. One official wondered at why other pending cases couldn’t be tried that quickly. “In some cases, people seeking justice die even before their cases are heard and decided,” he admitted in a Nairobi-based newspaper.

For many of our citizens, rights to legal fairness in Kenyaappear arbitrary, personally elusive and far from complete. Case in point: Justice Nicholas Ombija recently withdrew from proceedings in the 2008 murder case of Melitus Mugabe Were, the MP for Embakasi. His rationale? Frustration with constant delays in the proceedings and an attempted cover up of DNA evidence, as well as “a lack of commitment from the State and from the investigating officer.”

Due to the mistrial, the four suspects -- including James Castro Odera (alias Odhiambo G; see Necessary Noise on page 30) who, in July, was acquitted of violent robbery andaggravated sexual assault based on a similar “lack of evidence” – have a chance to start afresh with a new judge…nearly four years after were lost his life.

Furthermore, the 23-year-old search for the assailantsof Julie Ward the British tourist killed in the Maasai Mara Game Reserve in 1998, may be Kenya’s most embarrassing, if not one of its greatest, travesty of justice. A 28-year-old wildlife photographer, Julie’s dismembered and burnt body was found a week after her disappearance; she had been traveling on her own back to Nairobi. Since then, her father, John Ward, has campaigned tirelessly both here and abroad to identify the killers – to little or no avail.

Mr. Ward suspects a grand-scale cover-up by government officials to protect their reputations and big business: the tourist industry. (It is notable that, despite the obviously man-made injuries Julie suffered, Kenyan officials originally insisted that she’d been eaten by lions and struck by lightning.)

Only Julie’s father – having spent nearly two million pounds on the investigation and made over 100 visits to Kenya -- has kept the case alive. In 2004, Justice Minister Kiraitu Murungi admitted, “The death of Julie Ward remains one of the unsolved mysteriesof the era of President Moi.”Ahem, where’s Willy?

Families lose a daughter or wife. A husband is assassinated on your doorstep. A sister is violently robbed and raped. Your son is stabbed, nearly to death, in Kibera. Or Karen. All of these cases would be subject to the excruciating injustices, delays and corruption long prevalent in the Kenyan courts. Yet, a self-proclaimed Al-Shabaab terrorist from Somalia is behind bars within a matter of days.

Dr. Willy Mutunga, a renowned human rights activist, has pledged that per the new constitution approved in August 2010, he will comprehensively address the problems and challenges the judiciary is now facing. Kenya appears, Willy has admitted in the press, to be crying out for an overhaul if judicial reforms are to be realized. But these envisaged reforms are expected to take time. “I only have five years,” he has said. “To get it working might take ten or more years to get Kenyans trusting in judiciary.”

So, Nairobi, in dealing with the dark, witless past of our so-called justice system, how does Willy sleep at night? And, more to the point, where is he when our kangaroo courts demand such extreme reparation?

So, self-styled Nigerian preacher Chris Ojigban i checked into Nairobi and blew his bullhorn. Women came out in droves, single women to be precise, women looking for love, looking for men. Billed as “Your Set Time for Marriage,” the preacher – laughably -- came to deliver Kenyans from hindrances to marriage.

The pastor, of the non-denominational Singles and Married Ministry focuses his outreach to single people seeking spouses, and married people seeking help in troubled unions. He promises an instant cure to their malevolent maladies. I still can’t figure out Kenyan’s obsession with the whole drama. It seems like the more theater one can cause, the more legit he or she is seen as.

But this overexcitement with the promise of a mate instantly reveals the simplistic approach many people have adopted, especially women (who, as always, were the major shareholders in the meetings). So if men are missing in your life, you go shopping for them in prayer lines? Sister, please! Single people are single for a reason, and they have made decisions in their lives that have contributed to their singleness. Unless they are willing to look in the mirror and face these issues, I’m sorry, but this is just another Band-Aid.

Ojigbani’s claim that a two-hour prayer and some pep talk can fix your life is a complete con! Come-on! So what happens if things don’t go as he claims? Do you blame God or yourself? The whole idea that there is a special one for everyone and that they can be made to suddenly marry you is erroneous. Marriage is all about free will. God never forces it on any of us, and prayer can never be used as a tool to coerce someone to marry you.

Not even in the sappiest of romantic movies. The very notion that prayers can cause a man to propose to a woman is worrying. That is how cults get started. Pastor Ojigbani’s credibility as a man of God is sorely wanting; he is not attached to any denomination. This is important because any genuine man of God must submit to a counsel of elders that approve his ministry while providing personal and ministry accountability.

Unfortunately, people jump at these “rock preachers” and when they are screwed, abused or have their money taken, they begin to give all pastors a bad rap. Without accountability, Ojigbani is a lone ranger. He will swing whichever way he pleases and no one can hold him accountable. The truth most people are refusing to face is that marital problems are a result of poor choices made over time. To correct those problems means starting to look within.

Teaching instant results, instead of discipline, does not only cheapen the grace of God’s work in a marriage, but also helps to fuel this reprobate and nonsensical teaching. There is also the issue of money and the church. When a preacher says the size of your offering has to match the size of your need, something is off! You run, dummy! But no, trust

Kenyans to buy into this madness wholesale! Ojigbani is here to get rich. It means he groups people according to the amount of financial “seed” they are sowing, and then tells them that the size of their giving determines their receiving. This stuff is not even in the Bible! Scripture only encourages us to give to those who feed us the word and care for our souls.

Truth is, Pastor Ojigban and his ilk will not fix your desperation. You need some good common sense in relationships to see any change. That is, unless you want to keep digging your head into the sand and taking another load of Naija drama.