Three cheers for Lyn Mengich, she has refused to be browbeaten by greedy MPs

Prominent in the news these past couple of days has been the tussle between the Salaries and Remuneration Commission and parliament over a housing allowance the House had awarded itself, backdated several months.

The SRC declared the payment illegal and moved to court. Like a petulant child after being denied her wish, parliament reduced the SRC’s budget by millions, limiting its operations.

Then the MPs, who protest the high public wage bill on TV but increase their wages and allowances every now and then, attempted to sneak in what they called a “night allowance.” But, again, the SRC was onto the scam, and has vowed to go to court should the proposed allowance be effected.

The SRC, under its former leadership, would back down each time parliament threatened it with disbandment or denial of funds.

There is some suspicion that the leadership was also weighing future career moves that would need parliamentary vetting. We can say that they knew which side their bread was buttered. But not so with this reinvigorated SRC under the indefatigable and principled leadership of Lyn Mengich.

In a TV interview, Ms Mengich refused to respond in kind to the wild allegations by MPs against her and the SRC. Instead, she explained the constitutional grounding of the SRC, its mandate, and the various factors taken into account when evaluating terms and conditions of service of state offices.

When she was asked about the retaliatory slashing of her budget by parliament, she seemed not to be fazed, and left the impression of a woman who would go about executing her duty, no matter the threats to the SRC, and without giving consideration to her personal career growth.

She had an authoritative grasp of constitutional, legal, administrative and procedural issues governing her mandate. Her arguments were eloquent and cogent, her speech and demeanour dignified.

Like Noordin Haji when he took over the moribund Director of Public Prosecution’s office, she inspired hope that in a public service characterised by sloth, dominated by cartels and scammers, there were still a few conscientious public officers motivated by public interest as opposed to self-interest.

Now contrast Mengich’s eloquent and dignified interview with the hysteria of the parliamentarians arrayed against her and the SRC.

First, they argued that they needed more money—MPs get a gross pay of Ksh1.2 million ($12,000) a month, minus false mileage claims, extortionist per diems on their frequent joy rides across the world, and the odd bribe inside parliamentary toilets to vote a certain way—because their constituents come to them for all kinds of help, from school to hospital fees.

Even the most self-interested interpretation of the Constitution would not surmise that, in addition to legislating, representation and oversight, an MP’s duties include dishing out hand-outs to constituents.

The MPs should be working beyond the call of duty to get rid of thieving cartels in government.

They should be spending sleepless nights thinking of ways to reduce the unsustainable wage bill. Then there would be no need for these hand-outs as people would have affordable hospitals, schools, and jobs.

Then the MPs went personal. Naomi Shaban, choking with anger, accused Mengich of waging a personal vendetta against MPs.

We did not, the honourable protector of the people’s welfare fulminated incoherently, vet and approve your appointment so that you can come and insult and disrespect us.

Finally, the MPs went about decrying their poverty since joining parliament.

One MP, almost incomprehensible because of his tortured grammar, explained the deductions that left him with peanuts.

Now a surgeon in a government hospital, a person whose education, intelligence, and hard work are not in doubt, earns about a third of an MP’s pay.

And this is after review of doctors’ salaries some few years ago after a lengthy strike. Only in an “Alice in a Cartel-Infested Wonderland” would an MP earn more than a doctor.

If these MPs are so offended by their meagre pay, why don’t they resign so that Kenyans can see the folly of not paying them what they want? At the very least, resignation would have a modicum of self-respect.

But they will not. They know that parliament, like the Senate, and county assemblies, is one long gravy train. Where to turn for help? Officials in the Executive steal billions from the public purse in blatant heists. The national and county legislators choose “legal” ways to do the same. Are there enough women and men of conscience to stop this plunder?

Tee Ngugi is a Nairobi-based political commentator.