In the sight of God, or under the law, all people are equal — that is, the same in value. But this is very much a theoretical status.

In the privacy of our minds, few believe that real equality exists.

To the contrary, in every material field, variety rather than sameness prevails.

We all know someone who we willingly accept is cleverer (or stronger, or faster) than we are.

And we all know others who we think are fools, or who in some way are not as competent as ourselves.

The only equality an adult Kenya citizen can claim, at least nominally, is the right to vote.

It is central to the modern idea of political democracy.

How essential is voting to one’s wellbeing?

I have never voted, but I do not feel deprived.

As I am not a Kenya citizen, I have no right to vote in Kenya, and as I don’t live in Britain, I cannot vote there, either.

Many years ago I applied for Kenya citizenship (my maternal grandparents arrived here in 1903 and my mother was born here).

But a man behind a desk asked me for “tkk” (toa kila kitu, a bribe) in addition to the fees that the government levied for a Kenyan passport.

As I don’t think nationality should be bought like a banana, I declined.

In any case, being born British was part of my persona and not something to shed like a snake its skin.

As I see it, the dissolution of the British Empire in which Kenya went one way and Britain another, and produced a situation that, for me, was akin to two parents divorcing.

Divorce cannot change the fact that a child is the offspring of two people.

No matter how much that child may love and respect both its parents, it cannot split itself between them.

That is how I feel about nationality: I retain the name of my father, but live where my mother is. If the cost is that I cannot vote, so be it.

Today, democracy is touted worldwide as the only acceptable political system.

The word arises in two ancient Greek words: demos, the people, and kratien, to rule.

As practised by the Greeks who coined the word, democracy did not presuppose all people were equal.

It only gave male citizens of Athens the right to speak in public meetings.

Women, children and slaves had no such right.

This was not so different to what prevailed in several traditional Kenyan societies; members of male age grades were entitled to speak on any subject under discussion by their grade — as warriors, junior or senior elders.

Modern democracy presumes that all adults have an equal right to vote and speak freely.

We are told that the voting system ensures that governance is by the people for the people, and the will of the majority manages society.

It sounds fundamentally sensible, yet all of us are aware — from the numerous cases of vote-rigging around the world — that it really doesn’t work very well.

Winston Churchill said it was a dreadful system of government, and that the only reason he went along with it was because we had nothing better.

If nothing else, is this not sufficient grounds to question the system?

The way democracy is presented as the best political system gives a false sense that this has been proved by lengthy experience.

The Greeks and Romans tried it 2,000 and more years ago.

But it died out and was only revived on a significant scale within the past 100 or so years.

The United States claim they have been democrats since their revolution in the late 1700s.

But initially, like the Greeks, only white men voted.

Women and slaves were excluded, and African Americans didn’t get real freedom to vote until the 1960s — that is 200 years later.

In Britain, adult women did not get the vote until 1928.

In a nutshell, the system of one adult, one vote is historically new and is not well tested.

Most of humanity’s great religions and philosophies, and the material advances associated with being civilised, arose without democracy.

To the contrary, most advancement has occurred under autocratic regimes, suggesting that democracy may not be necessary for human welfare.

The USA, which presents itself as the exemplar of modern democracy, is run by two political parties — Republicans and Democrats.

It seems odd for so wealthy and populous a nation to only have two schools of political thinking.

Is there no alternative to parties and party lines being the only way democracies can function?

Indeed, there is something very ugly about the amount of money the two American parties and their representatives spend to get votes.

It suggests that modern democracy is so expensive that even the wealthiest societies cannot afford more than a few choices.

If those with the deepest pockets get the most votes — and it is difficult to avoid that conclusion — then the lofty ideals of democracy become no more than a commercial operation.

My experience of a lack of probity among democracy’s elected representatives arose when, in 1979, I was invited to testify about the world ivory trade to the US House of Congress Merchant Marine and Fisheries Committee in Washington.

Inevitably, corruption in Africa was raised, but it seemed rather pointless when shortly thereafter the Committee chairman went to jail for his role in the “Abscam Affair”, which I believe was to do with oil.

More recently, I was taken aback when many sitting British MPs were exposed for fiddling expenses on a scale that must have made many an African MP grin.

It takes little digging to show that democracy around the world is widely abused.

Yet, even if managed ethically and efficiently, it still has weak points.

Knowledge, experience and wisdom are not evenly distributed among people.

Yet these, above all others, are the qualities needed in directing society.

Giving all people the same political value through one-person-one-vote doctrines is bound to clash with the uneven distribution of knowledge and wisdom.

Let me explain: 10 democrats on a journey come to a fork in the road.

The left fork climbs steeply up over rocky hills; the right fork is level and easy going until it passes out of sight.

One among them is experienced and knows that, despite the difficulties apparent in the left-hand fork, once beyond the hills, it leads to their destination.

He also knows that the easy route to the right leads to an impassable swamp.

His companions, who do not have experience, democratically outvote him and choose the easy route.

They never reach their destination.

Simplistic, certainly, but the equality of all having one vote is not without drawbacks.

Disrespect for modern politicians is a worldwide phenomenon, and casts a cloud of doubt over democracy.

Like writer Dambisa Moyo, I would prefer to live under a wise, kindly and farsighted dictator who worked for his people.

However, I am realistic enough to accept that such leaders are too rare to be a realistic prospect, and so I fall back on Dream B.

This is my dream: Ban political parties. Ban elections. Ban the state from paying MPs.

Instead of ambitious and all too often unscrupulous men and women trying to persuade (or pay) people to vote them into office, a community would approach individuals who were wise, respected, had experience, and ask them to represent it.

Election would be replaced by selection.

All communities have members who are respected and trustworthy.

From among this pool, a community would select individuals to represent it.

The community would give those chosen a contract that detailed terms of service: A salary, the length of the contract, what was expected of both sides and a mechanism for dismissing an MP for failure to represent the community satisfactorily.

My principle — election would be replaced by selection of leaders (MPs) who made decisions according to their consciences and not according to some party line.

This dream would do away with periodic and unnecessary upheavals every five years.

There would be no fixed term of service for MPs.

Instead of periodic election, they would serve their communities under contracts whose terms could be variable as best suited each community.

MPs’ salaries would be paid by the communities they were contracted to serve (though the funds could still be provided by the state — but to the communities).

This would completely remove the abuse one has witnessed in Britain and Kenya, for example, where those elected decide their own terms of remuneration.

In effect, the contracted MPs would be their communities’ employees.

Think of it: If contracted MPs served their communities well, they would be well placed for further contracts.

They would have no loyalties except to the communities that employed them.

Obviously, it needs a lot more thought and discussion, but the idea of communities employing their representatives may be the seed of a system that works better than the “democracy” so few of us truly trust.

When all is said and done, it would bring the system closer to those that prevailed before the colonial era.