She despite the heat went on a loud silence and opted not to publicly address the matter. However in her weekly article on The Star,she blows the bubble and goes off boooooooom. Here is what she said:
CAROLINE MUTOKO
In a world hungry for negative news, gossip
and scandal, page views are generated by
catering to the lowest common denominator
and the lowest, primal need in a human being.
The need to be vile. In the world of social
media and gossip blogs the repugnant need to
the anonymously vile fuels the page views.
Enter the world of lies, rumours and malice on
your daily gossip blog. If you really want to
know what’s behind the nasty tales you droll
over daily, follow the money.
Those blogs would not exist without you and
because the losers behind them know you are
a closet nutcase, they make a living by feeding
your need for salacious gossip about people
you would never openly admit you envy and
are indeed a little jealous of. Being a troll, a
bully and a shallow-what-no-not is a drug
habit – you’re junkie, he’s the peddler. Tsk, tsk
– hold your tongue. I am not done yet.
Have I got your attention now? Good. Take
notes. Gossip blogging isn’t about honest
amazing stories or freedom of press as one
idiot puts it. It’s about filth. What use are real
stories anyway?
The truth doesn’t sell as well as lies coated in
malice and just a touch of cloak and dagger.
But where do they get the fodder you wonder?
It’s simple. Gossip bloggers target names that
make your heads spin.
Yes, yours. By and large the rumour mongers
don’t care much for the people they write
about, in-fact they don’t know us or pretend to
- but they know that you do.
When I hear people asking of certain gossip
bloggers “what’s wrong him, what’s his
problem?” I laugh. It’s not him, it’s you. He
knows how petty you are sitting behind your
phone, laptop or PC at work.
He knows you are shallow, a closet anarchist,
bottom feeder and best of all you are idle and
so if his gossip blog can tell nasty stories at
least thrice a week and use names like, Jaguar,
Octopizzo, Julie Gichuru, Linus Gitahi, Caroline
Mutoko, Raila Odinga, Rachel Shebesh, Sonko,
Maina Kageni, Mutahi Ngunyi, Mutula Kilonzo
et al – he knows by the very nature of who you
are, you will click, read and spread.
The more page views he gets the more google
ads he gets the more money he gets. He’s the
pimp. You’re his whore and you perform on
cue.
Wait a minute. Didn’t you know this was about
page views and money?
Oh get a grip!
A few months ago the buzz names were Luo,
Kikuyu, Raila, Uhuruto, Cord, Jubilee, IEBC and
Mutahi Ngunyi. Before that Safaricom, Bob
Collymore, Saitoti, NTV, Citizen TV.
Internationally the game is the same –
Beyonce, Rihanna, Angelina Jolie, Jennifer
Aniston… I’m sure you get the drift. The
science and method to the madness is the
same – write rubbish, coat it with a little
circumstantial truth and whip up a feeding
frenzy. They only expose our shallowness as a
people. It’s gruel and pigs.
The more it stinks the more the pigs gobble it
up. I know, the penny just dropped and you’re
squirming. It’s okay.
So, to the nonsense that was written about the
late Mutula Kilonzo – what a silly tale. What
amazes me is not the nerve of the fool that
wrote it, and quickly tried to cover his tracks,
but the sheer stupidity of those who didn’t
simply read the first line and dismiss it as
crap.
Say it with me – bottom feeder. It stunk and
you were drawn to it, not repulsed.
Do you know why that story thrived, ridiculous
as it is – because it exposed the belly of the
beast. This is who we are. Idle, myopic and
without the capacity to reason.
A few years ago, when the same losers wrote
nasty things about Julie and her marriage she
called me. I had to actively search for the
material and read it. Madness. What was
interesting about that episode is how people
would react the minute I dismissed it as
rubbish.
You would see a flicker of disappointment even
anger. They wanted to so badly believe the
filth. I’m sure the army that’s been out there
yelling in my defense has noticed the same.
The minute you tell them how ridiculous the
whole thing is, they seem incensed. They want
to believe it, they argue with you and when it
seems you just might be making sense, they
turn on you and attack you. Well, why aren’t
you playing along? Boohoo.
But here’s something I learnt in my months of
defending my friends and colleagues in media
and in public office – there’s a hint of envy, an
underlying need to believe that our lives aren’t
as regular as they seem.
In fact in my case, verging on the boring – and
anyone who can show the bottom feeders, that
maybe we don’t have it all (because apparently
we do) becomes an instant sensation.
Let me spare you the bile that keeps you awake
at night while we’re sleeping. That person is
playing to your most base emotion. The truth
is a lot less glossy, less sensational and less
appealing – however that’s why it will never
feature on a gossip blog. Page views and
money is the name of the game.
That said, allow me to take a moment to thank
the gossip-peddlers. Yes, thank you. The last
two weeks have been wonderful. I have never
felt as loved, protected and cherished as I have
since this madness began. The army that
moved in to ensure I was well, protected,
smiling, is larger than I could have imagined or
prayed for.
I am a very lucky girl and I don’t take that for
granted. The number of people who covered
me in prayer and called to say as much
overwhelmed me. The flowers and chocolates,
the hugs from nowhere and everywhere and
the sheer muscling to stand by me has been
phenomenal.
To my knights and ladies in shining armour
(police, investigators, journalists, bloggers,
mums, girlfriends, clients, true friends and
well wishers) I couldn’t thank you enough. I
will never get through all the e-mails and text
messages, but I need you to know I heard you
and I am blessed to have you. I will pay it
forward.
At some point I was worried my speaking
engagements would be cancelled. Perish the
thought. They are all on and still on schedule
with loads more pouring in. Dear gossip
blogger, Thank you for bringing the people
that matter rabidly to my side, to my defense.
Thank you for affirming to the listening public
and my advertisers that I matter.
You have created audience numbers for me I
could never have dreamed of and advertisers
who are smart on the mark are jumping at the
gun to get on-board. It has been awesome.
I recall telling a friend of mine, “…the people
who love me and pray for me out-number the
nutcases”. He snorted and said “even if there
were none, there’s me. I love you and I’m
here”. Enough said.
So am I upset? Yes. What upsets me is that you
denied the Kilonzo family a chance to bury the
late Senator with minimal fanfare. This family
has no illusions of who they are or who he was
and they are fine with it. What’s your
problem? They know more than you do. What
are you trying to show them?
I’m also upset that I didn’t get a chance to say
goodbye or even celebrate Mutula. The Mutula
Kilonzo I knew was a smart man, a funny man
and above all a very nice guy. Certain things
will always stand out for me about Mutula.
He was a brilliant legal mind. He stood by
what he believed and didn’t give two hoots
what anyone thought. If you’re a newbie at
Radio Africa you don’t know this – but Mutula
stood by this organisation solidly. When the
late Mutula became a minister years ago – he
and Otieno Kajwang made Kiss 100 their first
call and their first stop.
Mutula was also gutsy. This man fought to stop
this nation from being dragged to the Hague.
His attempts were defeated at Cabinet level
and trashed in parliament. I spoke to him once
during that time and he was gutted. He
sounded winded. Perplexed. The only other
time I remember him sounding so sad was
when he lost his mother. His words to me “do
everything for her while she’s still alive.” He
lost his spark there for awhile. His mother
meant the world to him.
Mutula never had an over-inflated sense of
himself. I spoke to him when he was shifted
out of the docket that was justice and
constitutional affairs to education and the
voice on the other end of the phone couldn’t
have been more jovial or upbeat. Bless.
He was also an easy going guy. Earlier this
year, Mutula and I had what was to be our last
conversation ever. I was looking for a
wheelchair for a young man in Moi University.
The only person I know who can get
wheelchairs is Mutula’s son Junior. But I had
lost his number. I always believed I would see
him and thank him in person. I waited for the
elections to be over, then I waited for him to
settle into his new job as senator. I should
have called right away, but I waited for the
right moment –it never came. The moment is
now gone, lost forever. That, now that makes
me mad.
To the entire Mutula family, be well. My
thoughts and prayers remain with you. To
Mutula Kilonzo – Asa, Tata, Koma. I’ll come to
your graveside one of these days and say
farewell, but not before I do as you would
have done and bury these liars.
Koma nau, koma nesa. I have work to do.
Source: exposed
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