In certain latitudes there comes a span of time approaching and following the summer solstice, some weeks in all, when the twilights turn long and blue… You notice it first as April ends and May begins, a change in the season, not exactly a warming — in fact not at all a warming — yet suddenly summer seems near, a possibility, even a promise… you find yourself swimming in the color blue… During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone… (During the Blue Nights)… I found my mind turning increasingly to illness, to the end of promise, the dwindling of the days, the inevitability of the fading, the dying of the brightness”.
Joan Didion wrote these words using the ‘Blue Nights’ as a metaphor for a dark time — the final confrontation with mortality — when the end unavoidably comes. I thought of these words after I learnt that former President Mwai Kibaki had died on April 21, 2022. My mind also turned to “the end of promise”. End of the rainbow promise?
President Kibaki’s story is refreshing like the rainbow after drenching rain, beginning in the farms of Gatuyaini village, Othaya, where he was born. Maybe something he heard over the radio as a boy kindled his ambition. Or maybe he was drawn into the dreams of a white-collar job by what a writer once described as “the mysteries of business — men signing papers shielded by their left arms, meetings behind opaque glass, locked briefcases”.
Whatever inspired him was potent enough to later draw him into the enchanted terrain of politics where he seemed carefully choreographed and never freewheeling—engaging in relentless pursuit in bloody trenches with swaggering politicians and bringing them to a stop—finally capturing the presidency late in life (past 70).
He joined great artists such as Beethoven, Thomas Mann and others who produced some of their most notable works later in life. This phenomenon has been called “late style”—to describe the last works of artists. Like Didion and her ‘Blue Nights’, Said describes the end of life in his book, On Late Style: “the darkening landscapes the poet so loves, of the winter world that yields sighs”.
Said further writes that, “‘Death has not required us to keep a day free’, Samuel Beckett writes with grim and intricate irony, suggesting that death doesn’t make appointments… It’s worth pausing over the delicately shifting meanings of the word late, ranging from missed appointments through the cycles of nature to vanished life. Most frequently perhaps late just means ‘too late,’ later than we should be, not on time. But late evenings, late blossoms, and late autumns are perfectly punctual…”.
In that sense then, President Kibaki was a late blossom. Said seems to argue that in some people, aging somehow purified them: “In late plays such as The Tempest or The Winter’s Tale, Shakespeare returns to the forms of romance and parable; similarly, in Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus the aged hero is portrayed as having finally attained a remarkable holiness and sense of resolution”. Did Kibaki become better with age?
Our fascination with youth tends to highly celebrate young achievers. Top 40 under 40, Top 30 under 30 and other such lists are in order. However, great achievements, major accomplishments, even fame and fortune, may come late in life.
And that was certainly the case with Kibaki, as if he had saved the best for last. Born in 1931, Kibaki served in various roles from Member of Parliament, Cabinet minister to Vice President. He unsuccessfully ran for the presidency in 1992 and 1997.
It was in his third attempt that he became the third President of Kenya from December 2002 to April 2013. By the time he became president, it was almost “late”. “A late style would reflect a life of learning, the wisdom that comes from experience, the sadness that comes from wisdom and a mastery of craft that has nothing left to prove,” so writes Edward Rothstein in his review of Edward Said’s book, On Late Style.
And President Kibaki seemed like someone with nothing to prove. Probably due to his advanced age and personality, he seemed to have reached a place of serenity and maturity — less hurried, rock solid and surefooted.
By the time he became president, many issues seemed to have been reconciled and resolved; away from the irreconcilabilities and irresolution of youth. After his elevation, he seems to have kept the humble spirit from his lowlier, and perhaps happier days. He seemed totally unbothered by celebrity, including his own.
President Kibaki is credited for expanding Kenya’s democratic space and setting Kenya on the path of economic recovery and Vision 2030. The man had his faults, and his detractors point to the bungled elections of 2007 and the ensuing post-election violence as his worst blotch. However, all in all, history will most likely be kind to him. His legacy will remain sure and so will a few of his foibles. May he fare well. BY DAILY NATION