Merry Christmas Project Fame , "Happily go to Hell" Thereafter ...

"We can't sell our music to anyone if we can't sell it at home ... Kenyan music is beautiful," said Valerie Wairimu Kimani, 22. This is the last time we hear her blabber on the airwaves. Goodbye girl and may God bless you for the sake of those you are dear to and those who are dear to you.

Tusker Project Fame was neither history nor did it make history, but after seven weeks, it ended with this message: "Merry Christmas" and "Happy go to hell ... We have achieved what we wanted -- selling our booze."

But it ended hopelessly, just as it started, leaving behind a trail of blood-soaked casualities, including a young girl who will remain just what she was before the Academy, but further deluded in expectations of tales of Tinseltown success, music industry and urban romance, truckloads of new friends and the ultimate lie of success: a Mercedeze Benz that was funded by blood-money of ruined teenagers, traffic smashes, broken families and shattered careers, forget a trail of booze-related ailements.

The Project, which cost East African Breweries Limited (EABL) about 160 million shillings (about 2.9 million dollars) makes Mother Teresa gaga. This cash went down the toilet while the Kenya Red Cross Society (KRCS) was still languishing in need of money to deliver humanitarian supplies to areas hit by floods as a result of unusually heavy rains across the east African nation.

Aware that Dr. Khadija Abdalla, the medical supretendant of Garissa District Hospital is still in need of vitamin tablets, I wonder what motivated the giant beer-maker to sponsor such a project while it has ignored, the genuine concept of "corporate responsibility." Children have died and in real world ... devoid of real heroes, we have real deaths ... and this is one of them.

The nearest equivalent of the Project is an imputated lad, ambitious that he/she will one day, with help of some unseen forces, play football like Ronaldino and Gary Lineker. I am not sure any of Project Fame's boys and girls even dream to be like Michael Jackson or even John Legend leave alone the motivation of Sukuma Bin Ongalo.

With nothing to talk about in terms of history. It only succeded in playing the tune of crafty brewing behemoth that is blamed for under-age drinking, drunk-driving and other social ills, only covered by a fat pay-cheque to Kenya's chief taxman -- Kenya Revenue Authority.

Kimani allegedly won as the top singer after she selected by a slew of talentless so-called judges, who were on the payroll of EABL. For all the erudite music reviewers, the judges did not have the slighted idea of what music is, or what it is not, except a socialite concept that drive fellows like Paris Hilton and former mafia chief John Gotti.

I am not sure if Joy Mboya, David Muriithi or, and moreso, Ian Mbugua can standup to the test of music ... they judged on the principle of "live and lets live." Then was the voting through SMS .... Or what it democracy.

Then there is Resolution Health, a scruffy insurance outfit that pledged a 10-million health cover to Valerie Kimani. This group has a shady a reputation of not refunding client ... now it is only seeking limelight.

"We cant afford to start talking about one person ... name," said Kimani, another sacrificial lamb of EABL insatiable need to hawk beer. She spoke of "break the walls" that separate us as east Africans. Wait a minute
"I believe it will easy to worl around my last semester, but I could not overlook such a once-in-a-lifetime .... I am a winner and very proud being an east African ... That is what matters now," she said, snidely with a dash of ignorance of the dog-eat-dog society she is happily tossing herself into.

It is mad, sad and bad because Kimani doesn't understand what she is talking about. And maybe she might not get it , even though it does not take rocket science to comprehend. She is like a optical patient who can physically see, bur her brains do not interpret what she saw, or allegedly saw and that is the tragedy is being young.

But here's a word of advice for Kimani, a damsel who, for reason that remain undiscussed, appears to abandon the beauty that her communication course in Daystar University could have offered: Interview with society's movers and shakers, a chance to write and change society among other benefits, only to end up into a "tube" that has lured many into unknown edges of the society.

Just like sex kills, the music industry kills if one does not sustain him/herself without the dashes or romance, high-speed car chase, drugs and sex. MC Hammer and Easy E are the best examples of a sector gone badly mad. I certainly like music, expecially the the timeless Whitney Houston's Where Do Broken Hearts Go?.But what I hate especially in the kind of music we have in the third world where, it tends to point its fingers in everything from gambling houses, to drug trafficking, prostitution, to weapons dealing.

I saw those girls and boys in the Academy perfome and it just reinforced what Dr. Cameroon says in the Fox Series, House.

"Sex can kill you ... Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight. It's violent, it's ugly and it's messy, and if God hadn't made it unbelievably fun, the human race would have died out eons ago. [pause to breathe deep and stare at each other] Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. Do you know that women can have an hour long orgasm?"

Replace "sex" with "music" and the sentence sounds like a sewage and that was exactly what it was. I appreciating Tusker Project Fame all for what it was is not, but I must say Valerie Kimani is talented, certainly not in music.

"And one day our friendship will break, and that will just prove (the) theory that relationships (and success) are conditional, and you don't need human connection or deserve it or whatever goes on in that rat-maze of your brain."