The anniversary of Kenya's protest season has arrived, and with it a peculiar horticultural trend: families laying flowers on barbed wire. Because nothing says 'I remember' quite like wedging a chrysanthemum into a coil of razor-edged nostalgia. The barbed wire, a thoughtful parting gift from the authorities, now doubles as a memorial garden.
Imagine the florists' delight: 'Would you like a ribbon with that, or will you be threading it through the concertina wire yourself?' Meanwhile, the UK Foreign Office is 'monitoring human rights'. Because nothing says 'decisive action' like a sternly worded memo read over lukewarm tea in a Whitehall basement.
They've deployed their most fearsome weapon: a clipboard. One can almost hear the rattle of a hundred diplomats sharpening their pencils to write letters of mild concern. It's like sending a stern note to a hurricane.
Up next: the Foreign Office promises to 'consider considering' a response to Kenya's police teargassing of florists. The world watches, and yawns. But the families persist, because flowers on barbed wire are the only bouquets that bleed.
And that, dear reader, is the state of our global conscience: a wreath of thorns and a diplomatic shrug.
