I had arrived late to Ethiopia, when I first visited it in 2012, barely managing to see the vestiges of the early 20th century nation of lattice work balconies, of Lada taxis, family pizzerias and piazzas; also the Ethiopia of Red Terror squares and state surveillance carried out on such a scale you did not buy a new shirt without the president potentially hearing of it.
That was late 2012, three months after the death of Meles Zenawi. Within a few months, as if making up for lost time, that old Ethiopia had started to disappear.
Toyota Corollas started replacing Ladas. In moved smartphones, graders and skyscrapers. A sleek metro train appeared. Meskel Square, once the regional version of Moscow’s Red Square, Beijing’s Tiananmen and Pyongyang’s Kim Il-Sung Square, was rapidly torn up. The Chinese-built light rail train cut the square to bits, a symbolic adieu to the long-dead Derg years and perhaps a shamefaced admission that Karl Marx and T-72 tanks had been over the top.
The death of Meles was a thus dramatic turning point. For months after, Ethiopians still spoke of him in the present tense – ‘as Meles says’ – as if like some fictional medieval Japanese Shogun, he had feigned death to test loyalty; with Meles, you exercised caution.
However, the changes under Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn failed to break the symbolic barrier. The last time I was in Ethiopia, in September 2016, I did not even go into Addis. I was transiting through Bole, a full year since I had last been there. And yet I sensed that things had reverted to vintage Ethiopia: Fear and gloom had returned.
Ethiopians can be a passionate lot, forming sudden and deep friendships, but also quick to take umbrage. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is as Ethiopian as tanking a globule of Tej. I had noticed the friendly, if guarded manner of the Ethiopian waiter and waitress. But on that day in late September, they were rude to customers and supervisors alike. The increasing personal identification with the state of the nation, as the years since colonialism gathered weight and our ethnic character and idiosyncrasies receded in the rear view and we became ‘nationals,’ meant you could sense the character of a country on people’s faces. Before Emperor Haile Selassie was overthrown, the concept of nation would have been alien to the vast majority of Ethiopians, to whom government meant landlord. But the 1974 revolution changed that. And so I sensed a hard and unhappy mood had descended.
The death of Meles was a dramatic turning point. For months after, Ethiopians still spoke of him in the present tense – ‘as Meles says’— as if like some fictional medieval Japanese Shogun, he had faigned death to test loyalty; with meles you exercised caution.
Like a replay of the 1970s and 80s, I looked out of the terminal building and knew that out there, beyond the provisional internationalism of airports, the state was killing someone. As they would say in America, the 1970s had called to reclaim our souls.
Uganda in 2016 Felt a Bit Like Ethiopia Circa 1974
Ethiopians knew what was coming. Barely a week after that transit, a state of emergency had been declared. I was not looking forward to flying back to Entebbe. I did not know if, on my way to Kampala, I would find the highway blocked off and we would have to drive through potato gardens and cattle tracks, as had become the norm following the elections in February 2016. What had once taken about an hour had, in those fraught months, become an ordeal stretching three hours, driving the 42 kilometres from Entebbe to Kampala. The state feared protests and worse and through that evil genius unique to tyrannies, it had banned the people. Before the year was out, state forces were to storm a royal palace, kill over 100 people and deny that famine was looming. Uganda in 2016 felt a bit like Ethiopia circa 1974.
Ethiopia in 2016 once again felt like Ethiopia proper, the revanchist state back in vintage form. It arrived as a thunderbolt. It transformed Hailemariam’s face of bonhomie, his smiley icon face, into something more sinister than even Meles’s unsmiling picture. It was inevitably denied by the government, but Amnesty International’s figure of 800 killed by the state since the Oromia uprising of late 2015, would, if true – and there is compelling reason to believe it is – cast a shadow on the region. Bar Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq, there are fewer and fewer places in the world where that many can so systematically be killed.
In closing the highways to human traffic, killing 100 people in Kasese in western Uganda, and in suppressing Oromo protests, both governments, confronted by contestations of legitimacy, used the excuse of war on terror to impose heavy-handed security measures.
These acts of impunity are also, tellingly, the reason both Uganda and Ethiopia have hitherto been the US’s staunchest regional allies in the war on terror. As client states, the two deliver the geopolitical goods. It is harder for states like South Africa or Kenya to kill even eight people or force motorists into village paths without triggering a constitutional crisis. Dictators, American diplomats know only too well, make for great allies.
And therein lies the naked fact of American democracy and power. And the shame of Ugandans and Ethiopians. But no one wins the status of American ally by just sitting around doing nothing.
As Italians make the best pasta, and Japanese make great sushi, so Ethiopians and Ugandans make the best collapsed states in East Africa. Rwandese and Somalis and Sudanese create massive state collapse, but they do so for internal consumption. They collapse only their own states. Ugandans have left their fingerprints on political ruins from Kinshasa to Kigali to Juba; the Ethiopians in Asmara and Mogadishu and who knows where else. Washington notices these differences.
But today, what was until a few weeks ago a matter of pride, the privilege of being America’s best and closest friends, has become a matter of panic. From back in the years when the Bill Clinton administration wooed these regimes, belonging to the American camp had brought with it some predictability, and no small amount of kudos. No matter the ideological gap between an Obama and a Bush, you could tell in advance what Washington would do. The bastion of democracy also had checks and balances that cushioned the relationships against a too precipitate Bush or recalcitrant Obama. If Bush cut off family planning aid money, at least he put it into HIV/Aids. He might not believe in the things you believed in, but you could let your five-year old daughter listen to him describe his belief.
Linebacking America has gone from prestigious to humiliating. Now everyone knows you are in it for the money, the fig leaf of being progressive, liberal and forward-looking cannot be convincing when the original item has gone back to 1860 AD. A president or prime minister stands up to declare pride in the relationship with America. Then there comes that pause as they absorb the very loud minds of their audience thinking in unison, ‘grab-them-by-the-*@£*.’
Linebacking America has gone from prestigious to humiliating. Now everyone knows you are in it for the money, the fig leaf of being progressive, liberaland forward-looking cannot be convincing when the original item has gone back to 1860 AD
It feels like the moment we had always warned about, that an alliance with the US was never a good idea. Except something too dangerous for I-told-you-so gloating came to pass. Three things: The frightening unpredictability of US power; the indignity of taking orders from Donald Trump, let alone being seen to be doing so; what to do about the things we gave up in exchange for US largesse?
Knuckleduster in the House
The defenestration of Gaddafi was a blow Museveni has not recovered from. That happened under Obama’s watch. It scrambles the brain to think what Trump may be planning. One thing is for certain: The search for a less expensive, less volatile foreign policy had pushed Washington to seek regional alliances, thence handing lifelines to governments like the one in Kampala, buying them a decade or two extra in power. Trump’s knuckleduster approach has little need of such subtleties. He will send in Tomahawks, and when Tillerson arrives, he will not arrive as an alternative to smart bombs. He will come reading the riot act. This must make for sleepless nights in State Houses around the place: America may not need our armies as much as they used to.
Standing at the AU podium, where all the other heads of state and government knew you were Washington’s favourite, had added some iron to the voice of our president. Coming to Kampala, for regional presidents, had some urgency to it for, as the representative of American power on earth, what Museveni permitted would surely be permitted in Washington. These days it must feel, every time a fellow president covers their mouth behind the order paper, that they are concealing a gleeful smile.
But joking aside, the alliance with Washington came at a cost. We may in future learn more about the war in Congo and what transpired in dark corners of our State House for that war to happen. But knowing the USA would look the other way emboldened the Ugandan and Rwandan troops that laid waste to that country.
It was easier to pick Ethiopian and Ugandan economies and militaries for manipulation because they were seasick from all the yaw-yawing. Such a thing proved less easy with Tanzania or Kenya, where more or less, the generals and general managers had risen through the ranks since Independence, were running institutions that had over time won legitimacy and had great pride in their professionalism. But these other leaders are sitting there. They can change things.
Political development in Uganda itself has been arrested. What was the motivation for giving in to change when Washington did not care a whit? Might we have beaten a tenderer path to the Sudanese imbroglio had we cared more for riparian amity instead of allowing ourselves to be a base against Bashir? Too many what ifs.
Christians, Muslims: Clanmates Divided by Foreign Religions
Ethiopia and Uganda allowed relationships between Christians and Muslims (clanmates divided by foreign religions) in their own countries to sour over the war on terror. It was an unmitigated tragedy, one that may not have run its full course yet. The judicial process may yet tell us what happened, but the fact that both countries have dozens of Muslim leaders behind bars is testament to decades of wrong turns in policy decisions.
The tragedy is that what brought us to this pass cannot placed squarely at the feet of our current leaders. Shifts and turns in these countries since the early 1970s were leading to some place like this. The collapse of the monarchy in Ethiopia, and the Independence government in Uganda, led to a series of other collapses. By the time the 1990s arrived, when some stability had been won, the armies in both countries had changed structurally and substantively. Economic directions had shifted at least twice in both countries, banks had gone down, industry collapsed. It was easier to pick Ethiopian and Ugandan economies and militaries for manipulation because they were seasick from all the yaw-yawing. Such a thing proved less easy with Tanzania or Kenya, where more or less, the generals and general managers had risen through the ranks since Independence, were running institutions that had over time won legitimacy and had great pride in their professionalism.
Things will not change for the better. The internal decay is so profound only worse can follow. It is unlikely America will abandon its East African regional policy. They will only make more humiliating demands. And we will say yes.
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Asylum Pact: Rwanda Must Do Some Political Housecleaning
Rwandans are welcoming, but the government’s priority must be to solve the internal political problems which produce refugees.
The governments of the United Kingdom and Rwanda have signed an agreement to move asylum seekers from the UK to Rwanda for processing. This partnership has been heavily criticized and has been referred to as unethical and inhumane. It has also been opposed by the United Nations Refugee Agency on the grounds that it is contrary to the spirit of the Refugee Convention.
Here in Rwanda, we heard the news of the partnership on the day it was signed. The subject has never been debated in the Rwandan parliament and neither had it been canvassed in the local media prior to the announcement.
According to the government’s official press release, the partnership reflects Rwanda’s commitment to protect vulnerable people around the world. It is argued that by relocating migrants to Rwanda, their dignity and rights will be respected and they will be provided with a range of opportunities, including for personal development and employment, in a country that has consistently been ranked among the safest in the world.
A considerable number of Rwandans have been refugees and therefore understand the struggle that comes with being an asylum seeker and what it means to receive help from host countries to rebuild lives. Therefore, most Rwandans are sensitive to the plight of those forced to leave their home countries and would be more than willing to make them feel welcome. However, the decision to relocate the migrants to Rwanda raises a number of questions.
The government argues that relocating migrants to Rwanda will address the inequalities in opportunity that push economic migrants to leave their homes. It is not clear how this will work considering that Rwanda is already the most unequal country in the East African region. And while it is indeed seen as among the safest countries in the world, it was however ranked among the bottom five globally in the recently released 2022 World Happiness Index. How would migrants, who may have suffered psychological trauma fare in such an environment, and in a country that is still rebuilding itself?
A considerable number of Rwandans have been refugees and therefore understand the struggle that comes with being an asylum seeker and what it means to receive help from host countries to rebuild lives.
What opportunities can Rwanda provide to the migrants? Between 2018—the year the index was first published—and 2020, Rwanda’s ranking on the Human Capital Index (HCI) has been consistently low. Published by the World Bank, HCI measures which countries are best at mobilising the economic and professional potential of their citizens. Rwanda’s score is lower than the average for sub-Saharan Africa and it is partly due to this that the government had found it difficult to attract private investment that would create significant levels of employment prior to the COVID-19 pandemic. Unemployment, particularly among the youth, has since worsened.
Despite the accolades Rwanda has received internationally for its development record, Rwanda’s economy has never been driven by a dynamic private or trade sector; it has been driven by aid. The country’s debt reached 73 per cent of GDP in 2021 while its economy has not developed the key areas needed to achieve and secure genuine social and economic transformation for its entire population. In addition to human capital development, these include social capital development, especially mutual trust among citizens considering the country’s unfortunate historical past, establishing good relations with neighbouring states, respect for human rights, and guaranteeing the accountability of public officials.
Rwanda aspires to become an upper middle-income country by 2035 and a high-income country by 2050. In 2000, the country launched a development plan that aimed to transform it into a middle-income country by 2020 on the back on a knowledge economy. That development plan, which has received financial support from various development partners including the UK which contributed over £1 billion, did not deliver the anticipated outcomes. Today the country remains stuck in the category of low-income states. Its structural constraints as a small land-locked country with few natural resources are often cited as an obstacle to development. However, this is exacerbated by current governance in Rwanda, which limits the political space, lacks separation of powers, impedes freedom of expression and represses government critics, making it even harder for Rwanda to reach the desired developmental goals.
Rwanda’s structural constraints as a small land-locked country with no natural resources are often viewed as an obstacle to achieving the anticipated development.
As a result of the foregoing, Rwanda has been producing its own share of refugees, who have sought political and economic asylum in other countries. The UK alone took in 250 Rwandese last year. There are others around the world, the majority of whom have found refuge in different countries in Africa, including countries neighbouring Rwanda. The presence of these refugees has been a source of tension in the region with Kigali accusing neighbouring states of supporting those who want to overthrow the government by force. Some Rwandans have indeed taken up armed struggle, a situation that, if not resolved, threatens long-term security in Rwanda and the Great Lakes region. In fact, the UK government’s advice on travel to Rwanda has consistently warned of the unstable security situation near the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and Burundi.
While Rwanda’s intention to help address the global imbalance of opportunity that fuels illegal immigration is laudable, I would recommend that charity start at home. As host of the 26th Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting scheduled for June 2022, and Commonwealth Chair-in-Office for the next two years, the government should seize the opportunity to implement the core values and principles of the Commonwealth, particularly the promotion of democracy, the rule of law, freedom of expression, political and civil rights, and a vibrant civil society. This would enable Rwanda to address its internal social, economic and political challenges, creating a conducive environment for long-term economic development, and durable peace that will not only stop Rwanda from producing refugees but will also render the country ready and capable of economically and socially integrating refugees from less fortunate countries in the future.
Beyond Borders: Why We Need a Truly Internationalist Climate Justice Movement
The elite’s ‘solution’ to the climate crisis is to turn the displaced into exploitable migrant labour. We need a truly internationalist alternative.
“We are not drowning, we are fighting” has become the rallying call for the Pacific Climate Warriors. From UN climate meetings to blockades of Australian coal ports, these young Indigenous defenders from twenty Pacific Island states are raising the alarm of global warming for low-lying atoll nations. Rejecting the narrative of victimisation – “you don’t need my pain or tears to know that we’re in a crisis,” as Samoan Brianna Fruean puts it – they are challenging the fossil fuel industry and colonial giants such as Australia, responsible for the world’s highest per-capita carbon emissions.
Around the world, climate disasters displace around 25.3 million people annually – one person every one to two seconds. In 2016, new displacements caused by climate disasters outnumbered new displacements as a result of persecution by a ratio of three to one. By 2050, an estimated 143 million people will be displaced in just three regions: Africa, South Asia, and Latin America. Some projections for global climate displacement are as high as one billion people.
Mapping who is most vulnerable to displacement reveals the fault lines between rich and poor, between the global North and South, and between whiteness and its Black, Indigenous and racialised others.
Globalised asymmetries of power create migration but constrict mobility. Displaced people – the least responsible for global warming – face militarised borders. While climate change is itself ignored by the political elite, climate migration is presented as a border security issue and the latest excuse for wealthy states to fortify their borders. In 2019, the Australian Defence Forces announced military patrols around Australia’s waters to intercept climate refugees.
The burgeoning terrain of “climate security” prioritises militarised borders, dovetailing perfectly into eco-apartheid. “Borders are the environment’s greatest ally; it is through them that we will save the planet,” declares the party of French far-Right politician Marine Le Pen. A US Pentagon-commissioned report on the security implications of climate change encapsulates the hostility to climate refugees: “Borders will be strengthened around the country to hold back unwanted starving immigrants from the Caribbean islands (an especially severe problem), Mexico, and South America.” The US has now launched Operation Vigilant Sentry off the Florida coast and created Homeland Security Task Force Southeast to enforce marine interdiction and deportation in the aftermath of disasters in the Caribbean.
Labour migration as climate mitigation
you broke the ocean in
half to be here.
only to meet nothing that wants you
– Nayyirah Waheed
Parallel to increasing border controls, temporary labour migration is increasingly touted as a climate adaptation strategy. As part of the ‘Nansen Initiative’, a multilateral, state-led project to address climate-induced displacement, the Australian government has put forward its temporary seasonal worker program as a key solution to building climate resilience in the Pacific region. The Australian statement to the Nansen Initiative Intergovernmental Global Consultation was, in fact, delivered not by the environment minister but by the Department of Immigration and Border Protection.
Beginning in April 2022, the new Pacific Australia Labour Mobility scheme will make it easier for Australian businesses to temporarily insource low-wage workers (what the scheme calls “low-skilled” and “unskilled” workers) from small Pacific island countries including Nauru, Papua New Guinea, Kiribati, Samoa, Tonga, and Tuvalu. Not coincidentally, many of these countries’ ecologies and economies have already been ravaged by Australian colonialism for over one hundred years.
It is not an anomaly that Australia is turning displaced climate refugees into a funnel of temporary labour migration. With growing ungovernable and irregular migration, including climate migration, temporary labour migration programs have become the worldwide template for “well-managed migration.” Elites present labour migration as a double win because high-income countries fill their labour shortage needs without providing job security or citizenship, while low-income countries alleviate structural impoverishment through migrants’ remittances.
Dangerous, low-wage jobs like farm, domestic, and service work that cannot be outsourced are now almost entirely insourced in this way. Insourcing and outsourcing represent two sides of the same neoliberal coin: deliberately deflated labour and political power. Not to be confused with free mobility, temporary labour migration represents an extreme neoliberal approach to the quartet of foreign, climate, immigration, and labour policy, all structured to expand networks of capital accumulation through the creation and disciplining of surplus populations.
The International Labour Organization recognises that temporary migrant workers face forced labour, low wages, poor working conditions, virtual absence of social protection, denial of freedom association and union rights, discrimination and xenophobia, as well as social exclusion. Under these state-sanctioned programs of indentureship, workers are legally tied to an employer and deportable. Temporary migrant workers are kept compliant through the threats of both termination and deportation, revealing the crucial connection between immigration status and precarious labour.
Through temporary labour migration programs, workers’ labour power is first captured by the border and this pliable labour is then exploited by the employer. Denying migrant workers permanent immigration status ensures a steady supply of cheapened labour. Borders are not intended to exclude all people, but to create conditions of ‘deportability’, which increases social and labour precarity. These workers are labelled as ‘foreign’ workers, furthering racist xenophobia against them, including by other workers. While migrant workers are temporary, temporary migration is becoming the permanent neoliberal, state-led model of migration.
Reparations include No Borders
“It’s immoral for the rich to talk about their future children and grandchildren when the children of the Global South are dying now.” – Asad Rehman
Discussions about building fairer and more sustainable political-economic systems have coalesced around a Green New Deal. Most public policy proposals for a Green New Deal in the US, Canada, UK and the EU articulate the need to simultaneously tackle economic inequality, social injustice, and the climate crisis by transforming our extractive and exploitative system towards a low-carbon, feminist, worker and community-controlled care-based society. While a Green New Deal necessarily understands the climate crisis and the crisis of capitalism as interconnected — and not a dichotomy of ‘the environment versus the economy’ — one of its main shortcomings is its bordered scope. As Harpreet Kaur Paul and Dalia Gebrial write: “the Green New Deal has largely been trapped in national imaginations.”
Any Green New Deal that is not internationalist runs the risk of perpetuating climate apartheid and imperialist domination in our warming world. Rich countries must redress the global and asymmetrical dimensions of climate debt, unfair trade and financial agreements, military subjugation, vaccine apartheid, labour exploitation, and border securitisation.
It is impossible to think about borders outside the modern nation-state and its entanglements with empire, capitalism, race, caste, gender, sexuality, and ability. Borders are not even fixed lines demarcating territory. Bordering regimes are increasingly layered with drone surveillance, interception of migrant boats, and security controls far beyond states’ territorial limits. From Australia offshoring migrant detention around Oceania to Fortress Europe outsourcing surveillance and interdiction to the Sahel and Middle East, shifting cartographies demarcate our colonial present.
Perhaps most offensively, when colonial countries panic about ‘border crises’ they position themselves as victims. But the genocide, displacement, and movement of millions of people were unequally structured by colonialism for three centuries, with European settlers in the Americas and Oceania, the transatlantic slave trade from Africa, and imported indentured labourers from Asia. Empire, enslavement, and indentureship are the bedrock of global apartheid today, determining who can live where and under what conditions. Borders are structured to uphold this apartheid.
The freedom to stay and the freedom to move, which is to say no borders, is decolonial reparations and redistribution long due.
The Murang’a Factor in the Upcoming Presidential Elections
The Murang’a people are really yet to decide who they are going to vote for as a president. If they have, they are keeping the secret to themselves. Are the Murang’a people prepping themselves this time to vote for one of their own? Can Jimi Wanjigi re-ignite the Murang’a/Matiba popular passion among the GEMA community and re-influence it to vote in a different direction?
In the last quarter of 2021, I visited Murang’a County twice: In September, we were in Kandiri in Kigumo constituency. We had gone for a church fundraiser and were hosted by the Anglican Church of Kenya’s (ACK), Kahariro parish, Murang’a South diocese. A month later, I was back, this time to Ihi-gaini deep in Kangema constituency for a burial.
The church function attracted politicians: it had to; they know how to sniff such occasions and if not officially invited, they gate-crash them. Church functions, just like funerals, are perfect platforms for politicians to exhibit their presumed piousness, generosity and their closeness to the respective clergy and the bereaved family.
Well, the other reason they were there, is because they had been invited by the Church leadership. During the electioneering period, the Church is not shy to exploit the politicians’ ambitions: they “blackmail” them for money, because they can mobilise ready audiences for the competing politicians. The politicians on the other hand, are very ready to part with cash. This quid pro quo arrangement is usually an unstated agreement between the Church leadership and the politicians.
The church, which was being fund raised for, being in Kigumo constituency, the area MP Ruth Wangari Mwaniki, promptly showed up. Likewise, the area Member of the County Assembly (MCA) and of course several aspirants for the MP and MCA seats, also showed up.
Church and secular politics often sit cheek by jowl and so, on this day, local politics was the order of the day. I couldn’t have speculated on which side of the political divide Murang’a people were, until the young man Zack Kinuthia Chief Administrative Secretary (CAS) for Sports, Culture and Heritage, took to the rostrum to speak.
A local boy and an Uhuru Kenyatta loyalist, he completely avoided mentioning his name and his “development track record” in central Kenya. Kinuthia has a habit of over-extolling President Uhuru’s virtues whenever and wherever he mounts any platform. By the time he was done speaking, I quickly deduced he was angling to unseat Wangari. I wasn’t wrong; five months later in February 2022, Kinuthia resigned his CAS position to vie for Kigumo on a Party of the National Unity (PNU) ticket.
He spoke briefly, feigned some meeting that was awaiting him elsewhere and left hurriedly, but not before giving his KSh50,000 donation. Apparently, I later learnt that he had been forewarned, ahead of time, that the people were not in a mood to listen to his panegyrics on President Uhuru, Jubilee Party, or anything associated to the two. Kinuthia couldn’t dare run on President Uhuru’s Jubilee Party. His patron-boss’s party is not wanted in Murang’a.
I spent the whole day in Kandiri, talking to people, young and old, men and women and by the time I was leaving, I was certain about one thing; The Murang’a folks didn’t want anything to do with President Uhuru. What I wasn’t sure of is, where their political sympathies lay.
I returned to Murang’a the following month, in the expansive Kangema – it is still huge – even after Mathioya was hived off from the larger Kangema constituency. Funerals provide a good barometer that captures peoples’ political sentiments and even though this burial was not attended by politicians – a few senior government officials were present though; political talk was very much on the peoples’ lips.
What I gathered from the crowd was that President Uhuru had destroyed their livelihood, remember many of the Nairobi city trading, hawking, big downtown real estate and restaurants are run and owned largely by Murang’a people. The famous Nyamakima trading area of downtown Nairobi has been run by Murang’a Kikuyus.
In 2018, their goods were confiscated and declared contrabrand by the government. Many of their businesses went under, this, despite the merchants not only, whole heartedly throwing their support to President Uhuru’s controversial re-election, but contributing handsomely to the presidential kitty. They couldn’t believe what was happening to them: “We voted for him to safeguard our businesses, instead, he destroyed them. So much for supporting him.”
We voted for him to safeguard our businesses, instead, he destroyed them. So much for supporting him
Last week, I attended a Murang’a County caucus group that was meeting somewhere in Gatundu, in Kiambu County. One of the clearest messages that I got from this group is that the GEMA vote in the August 9, 2022, presidential elections is certainly anti-Uhuru Kenyatta and not necessarily pro-William Ruto.
“The Murang’a people are really yet to decide, (if they have, they are keeping the secret to themselves) on who they are going to vote for as a president. And that’s why you see Uhuru is craftily courting us with all manner of promises, seductions and prophetic messages.” Two weeks ago, President Uhuru was in Murang’a attending an African Independent Pentecostal Church of Africa (AIPCA) church function in Kandara constituency.
At the church, the president yet again threatened to “tell you what’s in my heart and what I believe and why so.” These prophecy-laced threats by the President, to the GEMA nation, in which he has been threatening to show them the sign, have become the butt of crude jokes among Kikuyus.
Corollary, President Uhuru once again has plucked Polycarp Igathe away from his corporate perch as Equity Bank’s Chief Commercial Officer back to Nairobi’s tumultuous governor seat politics. The first time the bespectacled Igathe was thrown into the deep end of the Nairobi murky politics was in 2017, as Mike Sonko’s deputy governor. After six months, he threw in the towel, lamenting that Sonko couldn’t let him even breathe.
Uhuru has a tendency of (mis)using Murang’a people
“Igathe is from Wanjerere in Kigumo, Murang’a, but grew up in Ol Kalou, Nyandarua County,” one of the Mzees told me. “He’s not interested in politics; much less know how it’s played. I’ve spent time with him and confided in me as much. Uhuru has a tendency of (mis)using Murang’a people. President Uhuru wants to use Igathe to control Nairobi. The sad thing is that Igathe doesn’t have the guts to tell Uhuru the brutal fact: I’m really not interested in all these shenanigans, leave me alone. The president is hoping, once again, to hopefully placate the Murang’a people, by pretending to front Igathe. I foresee another terrible disaster ultimately befalling both Igathe and Uhuru.”
Be that as it may, what I got away with from this caucus, after an entire day’s deliberations, is that its keeping it presidential choice close to its chest. My attempts to goad some of the men and women present were fruitless.
Murang’a people like reminding everyone that it’s only they, who have yet to produce a president from the GEMA stable, despite being the wealthiest. Kiambu has produced two presidents from the same family, Nyeri one, President Mwai Kibaki, who died on April 22. The closest Murang’a came to giving the country a president was during Ken Matiba’s time in the 1990s. “But Matiba had suffered a debilitating stroke that incapacitated him,” said one of the mzees. “It was tragic, but there was nothing we could do.”
Murang’a people like reminding everyone that it’s only they, who have yet to produce a president from the GEMA stable, despite being the wealthiest
It is interesting to note that Jimi Wanjigi, the Safina party presidential flagbearer is from Murang’a County. His family hails from Wahundura, in Mathioya constituency. Him and Mwangi wa Iria, the Murang’a County governor are the other two Murang’a prominent persons who have tossed themselves into the presidential race. Wa Iria’s bid which was announced at the beginning of 2022, seems to have stagnated, while Jimi’s seems to be gathering storm.
Are the Murang’a people prepping themselves this time to vote for one of their own? Jimi’s campaign team has crafted a two-pronged strategy that it hopes will endear Kenyans to his presidency. One, a generational, paradigm shift, especially among the youth, targeting mostly post-secondary, tertiary college and university students.
“We believe this group of voters who are basically between the ages of 18–27 years and who comprise more than 65 per cent of total registered voters are the key to turning this election,” said one of his presidential campaign team members. “It matters most how you craft the political message to capture their attention.” So, branding his key message as itwika, it is meant to orchestrate a break from past electoral behaviour that is pegged on traditional ethnic voting patterns.
The other plunk of Jimi’s campaign theme is economic emancipation, quite pointedly as it talks directly to the GEMA nation, especially the Murang’a Kikuyus, who are reputed for their business acumen and entrepreneurial skills. “What Kikuyus cherish most,” said the team member “is someone who will create an enabling business environment and leave the Kikuyus to do their thing. You know, Kikuyus live off business, if you interfere with it, that’s the end of your friendship, it doesn’t matter who you are.”
Can Jimi re-ignite the Murang’a/Matiba popular passion among the GEMA community and re-influence it to vote in a different direction? As all the presidential candidates gear-up this week on who they will eventually pick as their running mates, the GEMA community once more shifts the spotlight on itself, as the most sought-after vote basket.
Both Raila Odinga and William Ruto coalitions – Azimio la Umoja-One Kenya and Kenya Kwanza Alliance – must seek to impress and woe Mt Kenya region by appointing a running mate from one of its ranks. If not, the coalitions fear losing the vote-rich area either to each other, or perhaps to a third party. Murang’a County, may as well, become the conundrum, with which the August 9, presidential race may yet to be unravelled and decided.
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