Post by miguna on Nov 19, 2005 2:16:45 GMT 3
Saturday November 19, 2005
Whispers of betrayal fill the air ahead of referendum
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Barrack Muluka
Emanyulia here we come, finally.
Friends, as you interact with this text, I am gravitating towards the Green Village. After all the dreams I have shared with you in recent times, the electoral chickens are now coming home to roost.
And so, like every patriotic citizen, I now must stand up to be counted. I am voting this Monday at Namasoli Primary School, where I am a registered voter.
I was last here on December 27, 2002. Then, the whole village – and the next, and the next, and the next – were upbeat with chants and songs of "Yote yawezekana bila Moi (all is possible without Moi)". We fell over each other, in the thrill of a prospective Narc Government.
We rode in a tidal frenzy; sworn to humiliate President Moi’s Uhuru Project. We would usher in a Mwai Kibaki-led Government. And we did.
Two weeks ago, I was in Emanyulia again. It is amazing how fast times change. This time round, the villagers are talking about "Pumbavu laws".
Just as fervently as they voted in Mwai Kibaki, the villagers would hug Moi, if the man made a sudden appearance among them. Why? What went wrong with the Narc dream? And isn’t President Kibaki delivering the new Constitution, after all?
Yes, but like my departed friend Wahome Mutahi would say, I hear whispers of betrayal in the air.
I hear whispers to the effect that after we delivered President Kibaki to State House, the man swiftly abandoned us and our dreams.
I hear whispers that because of this, the Big Man cannot even look his people in the eye.
When he goes to Kakamega, he confines himself to the State Lodge, hobnobbing with Amos Wako, Musikari Kombo and Uncle Moody – people he can meet in very many other places. He need not come to Kakamega to meet them.
I hear more whispers to the effect that the Narc Captain changed the colours of his uniform. He puts on those of the people who fought us, even as we traversed the country, campaigning for him and for noble dreams while he nursed highway wounds.
Then our Tosha Captain described a man called Bwana Njenga Karume as "a tribal chieftain." For his part, Bwana Karume called him foul names that my pen cannot repeat. He threatened to spill mortal secrets about our man.
Today, our captain has closed ranks with the "tribal chieftain" of 2002.
They are now fighting our old dreams. I also hear whispers that they are eating with Paul Muite and with Simeon Nyachae, both who were against what we stood for in 2002. That they are laughing at us and calling us "Wapumbavu."
But I also hear other whispers; this time to the effect that while our President has joined hands with Karume, Nyachae and the lot, haven’t we – for our part – joined hands with Uhuru Kenyatta, William Ruto, Musalia Mudavadi and others who were against us in 2002? So how could we accuse our man of apostasy and of betrayal?
Haven’t we also embraced the enemy? True, true, true. But wait a minute – while we are singing with Uhuru and with Ruto, isn’t it true that Uhuru and Ruto have joined us? Aren’t they singing from our script?
I hear whispers that they are reading from the same script that the people of Emanyulia sang from in 2002, together with Raila, Kiraitu Murungi and President Kibaki.
On the other hand, are some people singing from the same script that Njenga Karume had in 2002, when he threatened to spill the beans of scandal?
But – of course – President Kibaki and the not so heterogeneous Banana team he leads, largely and almost exclusively from Central Kenya and the Mount Kenya region, have every right to change their mind against the vision that bonded us in 2002, whatever their real reasons.
As a Christian boy, I once read where it is written: "It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here in defence of the gospel.
The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely – supposing that they can stir up trouble for me. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or truth, Christ is preached. And in this I rejoice."(Phil 1:15 – 18).
And from this, I draw lessons.
Whatever your motivation, go out and vote this Monday. Go out and vote for the Banana or for the Orange – whether out of selfish ambition, or from sincere love for Kenya. Go out and vote. Yet amidst all this, I hear echoes and whispers from St. Paul of Tarsus, admonishing Kenyans as they approach polling stations.
I hear Paul whispering: "Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy – think about these things"(Phil 4:8) as you go to vote.
But would I go away without telling you of my friend Mwangi? Mwangi has lately hung between low and angry spirits, telling me he cannot understand why Yours Truly seems to see eye to eye "with people who are not circumcised".
Yet – again as a Christian boy and one who was initiated the traditional Luhya way decades ago – I have no problem with my brothers whose culture guides them differently.
Again, the good old saint’s words are germane, where it is said, "In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men, but with the circumcision done by Christ"(Col 2:11).
I travel to Emanyulia with these reflections. I recognize that if the Banana wins, then I must accept the new laws. Those who do not like the proposed new laws, can join me in rejecting them on Monday – our only chance.
But I also invite you to accept them with grace, should those who like them outvote us.
Vote justly and may God bless our republic.
Amen.
The writer is Managing Director, East African Educational Publishers
