In case you were wondering what Kenyan media house serves the best tea, Edward Kisiang’ani, the professor of history, would be a good judge.

Recently, relieved of his bullying-the-media duties, he should have the time to offer such answers. Before he was a Principal Secretary, he spent most mornings in TV studios analysing politics. Of course, tea was in plenty, saving the man from Mulembe a budget for breakfast.

He constantly wore a grumpy face, which grew grumpier when he graced the screens later in the evening, perhaps because no tea was offered at supper time? If ethnic stereotypes were to be believed, then Kisiang’ani would have probably been just fine with ugali and mrenda.

However, such a meal would mean that he would be speaking with his mouth full in several instances, which, it goes without saying, does not offer the best viewing experience.

Listening to Kisiang’ani was already difficult enough, especially as a newbie in the world of political commentary.

One had to have an impeccable hearing to understand what the man was saying. Then you had to decode the dense accent that refused to desert him despite the many years he spent in Nairobi chewing every book he could find.

If you made it through the earlier stages successfully, you would the next round involved following his train of thought, a daunting task even for a children’s daycare teacher, who has to find words in the babblings of toddlers. With time and possible coaching, his arguments became more coherent. He became good enough at political commentary to earn a spot as a regsular on TV shows and wrote a column in Kenya’s bold newspaper — The Standard.

And the world would know of Kisiang’ani, a man who is showered by adjectives like “sharp” and “witty” by those who know him. Indeed, one does not earn a PhD from being daft.

The boy who grew up on the slopes of Mt Elgon became a celebrity among professors, an accidental TV star who would later turn on the media, which made him famous.

In his days as a political commentator, Kisiang’ani hardly shied away from blasting bad-behaving politicians.

He spent so much time talking about them that he grew interested in befriending them so much so that he would jump at the chance to be President William Ruto’s political advisor, back when the Head of State was Deputy President.

Hustler, who now goes by Kasongo, would reward Kisiang’ani by appointing him as Principal Secretary for broadcasting and telecommunications in the ICT ministry, perhaps because of the Bukusu’s man-heavy presence on media platforms.

Kisiang’ani’s appointment to the said position seemed rather off, as he boasts no real experience in broadcasting and telecommunications. His only experience in the mostly creative industry is as an editor of school books.

Given his history with sections of the press, there was the expectation that he would return the favour. He did, just not in the expected form, offering to the press what waswahili call ‘asante ya punda’. From warning against the corrupting effects of power, Kisiang’ani let his big office get into his equally sized head.

His most notable actions as PS, a job from which he was fired last Thursday, was issuing directives to deny sections of the press government advertising. Hours before he was relieved of his duties and assigned lighter roles as a senior economic adviser, the High Court had found he had no powers.

The professor who taught at Kenyatta’s University School of Law ought to have known that picking fights with the press was a futile job.