A stern face stared out at Kenyans for more than 24 years. Framed on office and shop walls, pictured on every banknote and coin and ever present on our daily news bulletin. His eyes seemed to say: “Don’t question the chief, I’m everywhere.” The chief was Kenya’s former President Daniel Toroitich arap Moi.
A phone call out of the blue got me working on this four-part series, researching Kenya’s history and understanding the political events that unfolded during both Mzee Jomo Kenyatta and Daniel Arap Moi’s regimes.
I thought I was pretty well read on our country’s history and the events that happened over the last 50 years, but I soon realised there was so much more than what any Kenyan knew of these two great men.
I decided to embark upon this journey to reveal insights into our former presidents’ habits, obsessions, and intimate moments.
POWERFUL MEN
More importantly, I wanted to tell the story on a life and the experiences of a man who worked around the clock with two of the most powerful men in Kenyan history. I also discovered how closely my own father was linked to this country’s history and how the images he shot sync perfectly with this incredible story.
Here, the second part of this exclusive four-part series of A Life Behind the Scenes.
On Kenyatta’s parentage: There was nothing prominent about it. He believed in power by association — if you are not born into royalty, you can marry from royalty. That is why when he went to Britain he married a white woman — in order to be a son-in-law of the British. That is why, too, when he came back from Britain, he married from the Koinange family — so that he could be closer to the Chiefs. When the lady from the Koinanges died, he married Mama Ngina, who is also a daughter of a chief; Chief Muhoho.
His other strategy was to employ sons of important people in his government, so that he could endear himself and have political power in those areas.
How I got his press job: In 1977, Kenyatta sent one of his press officers, called Francis Muigai Kamau, to Addis Ababa as a Press Attaché so that he could bring information to Mzee on the situation in Ethiopia. Kamau had to be replaced. And when I reported, I was shown where Mzee was seated because he was expecting me.
I found him inside a small room with Mbiyu Koinange.
“Will you do my job?” he asked.
“I will try,” I responded.
He insulted me, then told me: “Had your father tried, you would not have been born. You were born because your father did it.”
“Yes, Sir,” I edited my reply. “I will do the job.”
“Go on and do the job properly.”
Poodle from Selassie: Mzee Jomo Kenyatta had very few close friends. One of them was Emperor Haille Selassie of Ethiopia, and the friendship was such that Haile Selassie gifted Kenyatta with a small poodle. Kenyatta was not very fond of pets, but because of his friendship with Emperor Selassie, he bought that dog a Mercedes 280S, and whenever he went to Mombasa, it used to sit back-left. It also had its own driver.
Nyerere and Obote: Kenyatta did not like Tanzanian President Julius Nyerere, because Nyerere was a socialist while he was a dyed-in-the-wool capitalist.
He also did not like Uganda’s Milton Obote.
In January, 1971, Obote was coming from Singapore, where he had attended a Commonwealth Conference, and on arrival in Nairobi he realised that he had been toppled by Idi Amin. Kenya denied him asylum, but he was accepted by Tanzania.
General Joseph Ndolo, who was Kenya’s head of the Armed Forces, took the cue from Amin. He thought he could also stage a similar coup in Kenya.
He sent Prof Ouma Muga, who was teaching at Makerere University in Uganda at the time, to go ask Nyerere for help in toppling Kenyatta.
But Nyerere arrested Muga, not because he liked Kenyatta that much, but because he thought it would be a bad idea to have soldier presidents surrounding him — Amin in Uganda, and now Ndolo in Kenya.
When JM Kariuki died: I did not know JM Kariuki very well, but I know that he was very popular. He kept talking about ‘10 Millionaires and 10 Million Beggars’ but it was a contradiction, an irony, because he was a very wealthy man who was attacking wealthy people. Around the time he died, an OTC bus was bombed in Nairobi.
I covered that story, and the headline was ‘The Work of a Mad Man’. When JM disappeared, there were a lot of explosions, possibly to distract people or create the impression that he had died in the OTC bombing. People were angry. Very, very angry. And then people started spreading rumours that Kenyatta had gone to hide.
To dispel the rumours, Kenyatta went to Kenya Cinema at about 10am. There were columns of soldiers, heavily armed and in battle gear, lined up all the way from the railway station, and they saluted Kenyatta. Then there was a fly-past of jet fighter planes, and Kenyatta said: “I am here.”
Mzee’s funny bone: Although he was a tough president, he could also crack jokes. One day Mbiyu Koinange told Kenyatta: “This is a mugumo tree.
Your Excellency, you know the tree is associated with fecundity.” Kenyatta told him: “Who are you trying to baffle with your mastery of the English language? Why don’t you just call it fertility? Who are you trying to impress here?”
Small in photos: On August 14, 1978, there was a reunion of the Kenyatta family, including the kin living in London. Generally, the Kenyatta’s are huge-bodied, so Mzee appeared small in photos from the event. Mbiyu Koinange told Kenyatta: “Your Excellency, you look small. I do not know how the photographers did it.”
“Since when did you become a photographer?” Kenyatta retorted.
“Your Excellency, I am not talking from a professional point of view, but from an artistic one.”
“Artistic ya mama yako!” Kenyatta thundered back.
Mbiyu kept quiet… and walked away.
They neglected him: It was very unfortunate that when he started aging, those around him almost neglected him.
When we went to Msambweni in Kwale in August 1978, Kenyatta collapsed in the washroom. He had to be assisted by Mbiyu Koinange and Eliud Mahihu.
But, when somebody collapses, you don’t take him to sleep; you take him to hospital. Pandya Memorial Hospital is quite near to State House, Mombasa; why didn’t they take him there? Mbiyu, Kenyatta’s Cabinet minister and brother-in-law, put Mzee in bed and flew to Nairobi.
What was so important in the city that he had to leave his leader and brother-in-law after collapsing and head to Nairobi?
Hyenas for friends: You can trace the deterioration of Kenyatta’s health by the way he was signing. In the early 1970s, his signature was beautiful and was executed with a flourish. But around 1977 his signature had become a mess; it was like a fly-whisk in the wind.
Any person who was careful, concerned, and discerning would have noticed that things were not right. In Nakuru, (his handlers) used to put Kenyatta in a room to sleep then go out to drink. Kenyatta was left in the hands of hyenas whose sole purpose was to drink, feel good, and look for property.
There was no button in Kenyatta’s room to press in case he needed help, and at midnight, if he tried to call on anybody, nobody would help him.
I do not want to mention their names, but I was there. They used to eat a lot of meat, drink whiskey, and show off.
I would like somebody to tell me why Kenyatta not taken to hospital when he collapsed in Msambweni. If you collapse here, Salim, would I take you to bed, or to hospital?
Pretending to faint: There was a mourning period, and you know there were big cameras there from the international press. I saw people fainting, genuinely fainting. But I also saw people who wanted to just pretend that they were fainting, to look good.
I saw one woman who tried to faint but did not know how to do it, so just she let go. She was called Mama Kidosho.
I was so depressed and overwhelmed because, you see, the new President was wiping away his tears with a handkerchief, and the older President was dead.
The new one is wiping tears, and you are a young person… you feel torn apart. You don’t know what to do. It was a sad, sad moment. You know, Kenyatta was not just a President, he was a legend. We knew of no other.
Moi’s tribute: What I remember well, because it was so touching, was Moi’s opening speech: “Kenyatta was my father, he was my leader and my teacher.” Those were the opening remarks of Mzee Moi.