Post by Onyango Oloo on Nov 21, 2014 2:07:09 GMT 3
A couple of days ago, I penned a piece on the late Senator Otieno Kajwang'.
Here is an excerpt from the piece:
Unlike the gazillions who are going into overdrive with the effusive eulogies and myth making obituaries about Otieno Kajwang', I did NOT KNOW THE MAN-apart from the slightly torn and worn renditions of “Bado Mapambano” at ODM and CORD rallies over the years.
That is why I placed an early phone call to a very good friend of mine who hails from Oyugis but works in Nairobi. We used to live together many years ago and she happens to be a bosom buddy of an ex wife of the former minister who has just rejoined the ancestors. I wanted my friend to give me the contacts of the former Mrs. Kajwang’ because that was the closest I could get in conveying my personal condolences to the late Senator’s family.
I met Otieno Kajwang’ in person only once in my life. I was on my way to meet my friend Gitobu Imanyara at his County Hall office opposite Parliament sometime in early 2009 and as I walking past the Co-op Bank opposite the Professional Centre, I saw Hon. Otieno Kajwang’– who was then Minister for Immigration in the Grand Coalition Government-standing at the entrance of the bank, glancing at his watch, apparently waiting for someone. I recognized him and politely walked up a couple of steps from the pavement to greet him. Senator Kajwang’ was very courteous; extending a hand accompanied with his broad smile. I was surprised at how gentle and warm his handshake was. Unlike the egregarious and boisterous politician I often saw dancing on makeshift platforms in open air stadia, the man who greeted me was soft spoken, almost shy in his demeanour.
The passing of Senator Otieno Kajwang’ is without a doubt, a blow to ODM and the entire CORD family and his absence will be a little like Harambee Stars without Victor Wanyama or McDonald Mariga in the line up.
More articulate, passionate aficionados of the official opposition have expressed the demise of the Singing and Dancing Senator more eloquently.
Of course the bit which stuck in many people's minds was my title which some commentators found "insensitive" and suggested that I modify it.
There are others who were quite enraged-including some very close political friends of mine.
Upon reflection, would I reconsider anything I wrote?
Well, the brief answer is:
NO.
One of the things which ails our country is AMNESIA.
Especially when a prominent personality passes on.
I remember the orgy of hagiographic wailing which engulfed this country when the late Prof. George Saitoti perished in a plane crash.
Ditto for when cabinet minister Karisa Maitha died in Germany.
Sometimes we do not even wait for someone to die.
Recently when retired dictator Daniel arap Moi marked his 90th birthday, I was shocked to see ACTIVISTS I have known for years dash to their Facebook walls to share their fond and nostalgic memories of the KANU despot.
We had suddenly, conveniently "forgotten" that the late Saitoti was one of the main architects of the massive Goldenberg financial scandal.
In the case of Karisa Maitha I did say-on August 27, 2004- that "sina machozi ya mamba" as I deconstructed the expired politician.
I first noticed this peculiar phenomenon of Kenyan political amnesia a very long time ago-when I was only 18 years old as a matter of fact.
A few days after I became eligible to vote in 1978 Mzee Jomo Kenyatta died in his sleep in Mombasa.
I had come of political age around 1975 when the country was rocked with the ramifications of the grisly slaying of the popular MP for Nyandarua North, J.M. Kariuki. Quickly there emerged a national consensus that the popular populist leader had been killed on the express orders of figures swirling close to Kenyatta's regime. Yet, when the first head of state passed on there was an epidemic of hypocritical mourning over Mzee. Conveniently forgotten were decades of iron fisted misrule.
Young as I was, the reaction to the passing of Kenyatta astounded me.
It is not an accident or coincidence that one of the fairy tales which most affected me as a primary school pupil was the
Emperor's New Clothes.
Even today at 54, that skeptical, almost naïve frankness of a child resides in me. Coupled with my long commitment to speaking unvarnished truth to power, my penchant for calling it as it is has confounded, angered and disturbed many.
And this is even with close family and friends.
In October 2000, my youngest brother succumbed to an illness at the tender age of 31.
I decided to write a public obituary circulated in many Kenyan mailing lists and online forums.
It was titled, in upper caps:
MY BROTHER DIED OF AIDS.
Those of my readers who were active in Kenyaonline and the KCA mailing list at the time no doubt remember the howls of global, indignant protest which greeted that thread.
But in retrospect, I am proud TODAY, in 2014, to assert that my speaking out fourteen years ago, helped in its own way, to end the culture of silence and accompanying stigma which then prevailed on discussions about HIV and AIDS. Hitherto anyone who passed on because of AIDS related complications was deemed to have died euphemistically, "of a long illness".
So that is why I am hardly surprised at the blistering reactions to my candid reflections following the passing of Senator Gerald Otieno Kajwang'.
But Onyango Oloo is NOT about to change tack.
Kenya still needs its sh*t disturbers and party poopers.
Sincerely,
Onyango Oloo
Nairobi
Here is an excerpt from the piece:
Unlike the gazillions who are going into overdrive with the effusive eulogies and myth making obituaries about Otieno Kajwang', I did NOT KNOW THE MAN-apart from the slightly torn and worn renditions of “Bado Mapambano” at ODM and CORD rallies over the years.
That is why I placed an early phone call to a very good friend of mine who hails from Oyugis but works in Nairobi. We used to live together many years ago and she happens to be a bosom buddy of an ex wife of the former minister who has just rejoined the ancestors. I wanted my friend to give me the contacts of the former Mrs. Kajwang’ because that was the closest I could get in conveying my personal condolences to the late Senator’s family.
I met Otieno Kajwang’ in person only once in my life. I was on my way to meet my friend Gitobu Imanyara at his County Hall office opposite Parliament sometime in early 2009 and as I walking past the Co-op Bank opposite the Professional Centre, I saw Hon. Otieno Kajwang’– who was then Minister for Immigration in the Grand Coalition Government-standing at the entrance of the bank, glancing at his watch, apparently waiting for someone. I recognized him and politely walked up a couple of steps from the pavement to greet him. Senator Kajwang’ was very courteous; extending a hand accompanied with his broad smile. I was surprised at how gentle and warm his handshake was. Unlike the egregarious and boisterous politician I often saw dancing on makeshift platforms in open air stadia, the man who greeted me was soft spoken, almost shy in his demeanour.
The passing of Senator Otieno Kajwang’ is without a doubt, a blow to ODM and the entire CORD family and his absence will be a little like Harambee Stars without Victor Wanyama or McDonald Mariga in the line up.
More articulate, passionate aficionados of the official opposition have expressed the demise of the Singing and Dancing Senator more eloquently.
Of course the bit which stuck in many people's minds was my title which some commentators found "insensitive" and suggested that I modify it.
There are others who were quite enraged-including some very close political friends of mine.
Upon reflection, would I reconsider anything I wrote?
Well, the brief answer is:
NO.
One of the things which ails our country is AMNESIA.
Especially when a prominent personality passes on.
I remember the orgy of hagiographic wailing which engulfed this country when the late Prof. George Saitoti perished in a plane crash.
Ditto for when cabinet minister Karisa Maitha died in Germany.
Sometimes we do not even wait for someone to die.
Recently when retired dictator Daniel arap Moi marked his 90th birthday, I was shocked to see ACTIVISTS I have known for years dash to their Facebook walls to share their fond and nostalgic memories of the KANU despot.
We had suddenly, conveniently "forgotten" that the late Saitoti was one of the main architects of the massive Goldenberg financial scandal.
In the case of Karisa Maitha I did say-on August 27, 2004- that "sina machozi ya mamba" as I deconstructed the expired politician.
I first noticed this peculiar phenomenon of Kenyan political amnesia a very long time ago-when I was only 18 years old as a matter of fact.
A few days after I became eligible to vote in 1978 Mzee Jomo Kenyatta died in his sleep in Mombasa.
I had come of political age around 1975 when the country was rocked with the ramifications of the grisly slaying of the popular MP for Nyandarua North, J.M. Kariuki. Quickly there emerged a national consensus that the popular populist leader had been killed on the express orders of figures swirling close to Kenyatta's regime. Yet, when the first head of state passed on there was an epidemic of hypocritical mourning over Mzee. Conveniently forgotten were decades of iron fisted misrule.
Young as I was, the reaction to the passing of Kenyatta astounded me.
It is not an accident or coincidence that one of the fairy tales which most affected me as a primary school pupil was the
Emperor's New Clothes.
Even today at 54, that skeptical, almost naïve frankness of a child resides in me. Coupled with my long commitment to speaking unvarnished truth to power, my penchant for calling it as it is has confounded, angered and disturbed many.
And this is even with close family and friends.
In October 2000, my youngest brother succumbed to an illness at the tender age of 31.
I decided to write a public obituary circulated in many Kenyan mailing lists and online forums.
It was titled, in upper caps:
MY BROTHER DIED OF AIDS.
Those of my readers who were active in Kenyaonline and the KCA mailing list at the time no doubt remember the howls of global, indignant protest which greeted that thread.
But in retrospect, I am proud TODAY, in 2014, to assert that my speaking out fourteen years ago, helped in its own way, to end the culture of silence and accompanying stigma which then prevailed on discussions about HIV and AIDS. Hitherto anyone who passed on because of AIDS related complications was deemed to have died euphemistically, "of a long illness".
So that is why I am hardly surprised at the blistering reactions to my candid reflections following the passing of Senator Gerald Otieno Kajwang'.
But Onyango Oloo is NOT about to change tack.
Kenya still needs its sh*t disturbers and party poopers.
Sincerely,
Onyango Oloo
Nairobi
