Dear Mr. President, I am delighted to join you, and my beloved fellow citizenry in this auspicious reliving of the events of 1952. I may have missed the gloom of that day when 6 Kenyans of unflattering belief in our nationhood were deprived of their entitlement to freedom. Mr. President, the names of Jomo Kenyatta, Achieng Oneko, Bildad Kagia, Kungu Karumba, Paul Ngei and the other whose name has escaped my memory (its a shame) earned their space in our history as a nation. In my little knowledge of history, the heroes of that day were in thousands. Dedan Kimathi, paid the ultimate price... His blood and life fueled the struggle for freedom. Its not just the named like Kimathi whom we owe our freedom to. Its not just Jomo Kenyatta, like we were made to believe for almost 50 years. I remember with gratitude thousands of young men who abandoned their newly wed wives to claim our freedom. It was an act of courage and more of selfless sacrifice. It explains to my intelligence the meaning of Country before Self A story is told in my village of a hero of the struggle. His name was Kagai. After the war wound up and freedom had come, a lowly and modest Kagai returned to the village where he had left his young wife. The wife had since given birth to another four children. An overwhelmed Kagai couldnt bear the betrayal. Stories were told of the local colonial chief who slept around the households which the young men had joined the struggle. What but lice and tattered clothes did you bring from the forest? In your absence I took care of your wife and even sired a karani for yo u... So would the colonial chief ask the disillusioned young men. In my village, this statement was offensive, even taboo. On a 1963 night, just as independence was about , the colonial chief and his family were attacked at night, had their heads chopped off and their home burned to the ground. Kagai was nowhere to be found the following day. *************** I am not proud of Kagai s actions. I choose to be indifferent about it and call it the price we have paid to be free. I am lucky to have my roots in a village that was right at heart of the struggle for the African freedom. I have been treated to some of the most authentic tales from the struggle. Particular to me, my grandfather lent this Nation service in the forest. His brothers had no heart for it. They chose to pursue alternative livelihoods under the yokes of their colonial bosses. They migrated to Nyandarua where the settlers had established what was called, The Paradise Valley... They paid services to their masters and had their children educated. When independence came, the colonial masters left them their colonial homes... and Jomo Kenyatta gave their sons jobs. One of them was personally at the service of Karen Blixen. My grandfather, with just but the pride of having survived the struggle leads a modest live uncharacteristic of what heroes are entitled to. Hes just but a wealth of warfare tales. His children were sparsely educated and didnt have opportunity to be gainfully employed. Jomo said he needed skills. The land for which they fought was not there when they came from the forest. Ironically, they needed money to buy it. ******* Today, Mr. President, I wont be joining you in the stadium. I wont be available to see the army flex its warfare muscle. Neither will I be at statehouse for the luncheon. I will however be paying homage to an old man whos cursed the independent Kenya for long. Hes been struggling with terminal illness and has been neglected for long. The old man is my hero today. HAPPY MASHUJAA DAY MR. PRESIDENT
Posted on: Mon, 20 Oct 2014 07:50:02 +0000