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FORMS AND SUBSTANCE: Comparing Predictions and Results From Kenya’s General Election

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The grand bowl

This was due to be the last in a series of four articles on the Kenyan general elections of 2017. The first three looked at the campaign, the state of play between the main alliances and the capabilities and activities of the Independent Elections and Boundaries Commission and made a series of predictions about the likely results of the 8 August poll at presidential, gubernatorial and parliamentary levels. This article looks at what happened next: the results, where those predictions were right and wrong, what we can deduce about the conduct of the electoral process in the light of the Supreme Court’s invalidation of the presidential poll on 1 September and what lessons there may be in the first presidential poll for the second.

The Presidential Results

In the Presidency, as predicted in all three articles, according to the Form 34Bs which record the 290 constituency results, Uhuru Kenyatta won a clear victory; winning 54% of the vote to 45% for his main challenger Raila Odinga. This was the result of an electoral process which initially pleased almost everyone. The procedures on polling day worked well, the electronic voter identification and tallying systems mostly functioned as intended (or at least as predicted), there was no military intervention, no mass failure of the electronic voter verification system and counting at the polling stations was mostly uneventful. The presidential results were (mostly) logical and consistent with previous elections and with the parallel elections taking place and there were no excesses of votes in the Presidency compared to the other polls. The overall process was given the support both of domestic and international observers (with qualifications as the results had not yet been declared at that point).

For now, this analysis is based on the opinion – which I hope to explain – that while there were material administrative issues sufficient in the minds of the Supreme Court to invalidate the election, the evidence strongly suggests that the presidential results announced by IEBC were not “cooked” or “computer generated”.

That is not the view of a large number of Kenyans who supported the NASA coalition however, nor of the Supreme Court, and we will look in more detail at their concerns later. For now, this analysis is based on the opinion – which I hope to explain – that while there were material administrative issues sufficient in the minds of the Supreme Court to invalidate the election, the evidence strongly suggests that the presidential results announced by IEBC were not “cooked” or “computer generated”. Many of the complaints raised relate to the IEBC’s partial migration to an electronic tallying system, which as predicted was a key source of confusion.

Overall, the IEBC results showed that Kenyatta and William Ruto had won a decisive victory, by a greater margin than most had predicted. They won 26 counties to Odinga’s 21. Uhuru won three counties I thought he would lose – Garissa, Narok and Nyamira – and lost one, Tana River.

Kenya’s 47 Counties by the Winning Presidential Candidate (Anulled)

I got closest in my article in June, which predicted a 55-45% victory, In fact, the closer to the election we got and the more information I acquired, the less accurate my predictions were. In fact, I had begun to doubt my own numbers and modified my eve-of-poll prediction from 53-47% (which the spreadsheet suggested) to 52% to 48%. I left however the predicted votes for each candidate the same, and there I was pretty close: the official constituency Form 34Bs show that Kenyatta beat Odinga by 8.2 million to 6.8 million votes, compared to which I had predicted 8 million to 7 million.

Regionally, Kenyatta and Odinga (and their respective Vice Presidential candidates William Ruto and Kalonzo Musyoka) won all their Kikuyu, Kalenjin, Luo and Kamba “heartlands” as expected, and by huge margins. The two internal “insurgencies” in Bomet (Isaac Ruto for NASA) and Machakos (Alfred Mutua for Jubilee) both had little impact on the presidential votes. I had expected Ruto to bring more voters to Odinga than he in fact did. Little will change here in a rerun. As predicted, Kenyatta won most of the north and North east, Odinga most of the Coast and Western. Nairobi (on the far left of the chart below) was narrowly pro-Odinga (51% to 48%), much closer that opinion polls had predicted, a source of some surprise. Ipsos for example had run a survey in Nairobi just pre-poll which predicted a 56% Odinga vote with a margin of error of +-2.7%. The Kisii and Nyamira result (on the far right) were also a surprise, as most commentators, myself included, had given the region to NASA as in 2013. Explanations given afterwards included the heavy investment Jubilee had made in the region, the defection of virtually all ODM MPs to Jubilee and the influence of Fred Matiang’i as cabinet secretary.

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Note: Orange throughout is NASA or Odinga; Blue throughout is Jubilee or Kenyatta. I use blue rather than red, the “Jubilee colour”, because red and orange look similar in some display formats, and because blue is a more “conservative” colour in most political systems than red, which tends to be associated with socialism and communism, and Jubilee is definitely a more conservative alliance.

As expected, all the other candidates were irrelevant, except for Joseph Nyagah (small spread votes) and Mohammed Dida (in green above), who polled creditably in the north and north east. Rejected and otherwise inadmissible votes were reasonable, down on 2013 at 0.5% overall (based on the Form 34Bs).

When I summed them manually, the 34Bs added up to almost exactly the same results as IEBC had announced around 8pm on 11 August (which they had done with a couple of seats still missing, as they were entitled to do).

These Presidential results are taken directly myself from the 34Bs, when they were published in a repository by IEBC, which were the only formal and legal basis for announcing a result. When I summed them manually, the 34Bs added up to almost exactly the same results as IEBC had announced around 8pm on 11 August (which they had done with a couple of seats still missing, as they were entitled to do). There were three Form 34Bs missing from the Forms repository (a different result had been uploaded instead), so I used the 34C national summary for them. The results in the IEBC real time portal (initially fed by the KIEMS system and then corrected and topped up later manually with missing results) were similar, though not identical, with the main difference being the spoilt votes, where – as in 2013 – there appeared to be an glitch which led the number of rejected, disputed and objected votes to be far larger electronically than in fact it turned out to be (something the IEBC has never explained).

Comparing the now invalidated presidential results against those for 2013 (easy with the same constituencies and candidates) we can see clear trends. Kenyatta did better in most areas, picking up votes especially in the north and North East, the Coast, Western and Kisii/Nyamira. Odinga did better in Bomet, some northern Kalenjin seats, most of Western (where he took the majority of Mudavadi’s 2013 vote) and Meru.

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Change in Vote for the Main Candidates 2013-2017

Turnout was substantially down on 2013. This was as predicted: the 2013 election had been fought on a new register, which had been only incrementally and partially updated since then, leaving at least a million dead voters still registered, so turnouts were inevitably going to be lower. In addition, the electronic voter identification system, with id cards, photographs and fingerprints combined, and (uneditable) tallies of voters maintained electronically by the KIEMS systems, deterred or prevented some “top up voting“ (officials voting for missing voters at the end of the day) which occurred in 2013.

In summary, if the Presidential result was substantively rigged or the result otherwise affected by the issues found, it is near certain that all the other elections must have been rigged or affected in the same way, as they involved the same voters, method for voting, technology for voter identification and results transmission (KIEMS), the same real-time results display portal, the same voting and counting processes, the same election officials and almost the same end results.

The turnout pattern (in black below) matched very closely that of previous polls, highest in the Luo and Kikuyu homelands, lowest on the coast. Turnouts exceeded 85% in 35 mostly Kikuyu, Luo and Kalenjin constituencies, a sign of some forced voting, top ups or stuffing, but exceeded 90% nowhere, and nationwide were a very reasonable 78% (compared to the 76% that a long-term weighted average of the last five elections suggested). The change in turnout on 2013 (in green below) was mostly consistent, as would be expected if dead voters were the main reason. Turnouts rose slightly in a couple of Kilifi seats where they had been depressed by the Mombasa Republican Council violence in 2013, and in Tharaka in Tharaka-Nithi (unexplained so far).

Presidential Turnout

Presidential Turnout 2017 and Change vs. 2013

The Governorships

In the 47 gubernatorial races, the results followed a similar pattern to those for the Presidency. Again, Jubilee won decisively, by a greater margin than predicted. Here too, I underestimated the scale of Jubilee’s victory (though I got the winner right in 40 of 47). I predicted that Jubilee and their KANU, MCC, FAP, PNU, DP, NARC-Kenya and independent allies would win 21-28 Governorships, but they ended up with 29. As expected, they won their homelands, and Mike Sonko won Nairobi. Jubilee also won four counties where I had them as marginals (Narok, Kwale, Lamu and Wajir) and four (Garissa, Kajiado, Bomet and Machakos) which I had given to NASA. Across the nation, only 21 of the 47 incumbent governors returned to office.

Kenya’s 47 Governors by Winning Alliance

Kenya’s 47 Governors by Winning Alliance

New Governors included three Kenyatta first-term cabinet secretaries, all dropped from their posts for various alleged misdeeds: Anne Waiguru in Kirinyaga, Joseph ole Lenku in Kajiado and Charity Ngilu in Kitui – plus retired Kibaki-era Secretary to the Cabinet Francis Kimemia. This reaffirmed the illusory nature of the distinction between senior non-partisan state officials and politicians. If they were not in active politics when they entered office, they certainly were by the time they left.

For many Kenyans, the local races for MP and MCA were just as important as those for the President and Governor. There too, the same pattern was seen – Jubilee successes across the board.

NASA did not petition the governorship elections collectively, though they made allegations that some results were “computer generated” and initially, nor did most losing gubernatorial candidates. There seemed a general assumption that the non-presidential polls were not systematically rigged until the Supreme Court’s judgement, which immediately opened the floodgates for petitions by defeated candidates, including losing gubernatorial candidates, in Embu, Siaya, Kirinyaga and Machakos, with more to come.

The Parliamentary Races

For many Kenyans, the local races for MP and MCA were just as important as those for the President and Governor. There too, the same pattern was seen – Jubilee successes across the board. In the National Assembly, for the 290 constituency MPs my prediction of a 54% pro-Jubilee to 46% pro-NASA win turned out again to be a slight underestimate of the size of Jubilee’s victory. In fact, Jubilee and allies won roughly 60% to just under 40% for NASA. Jubilee did well in Bungoma and Kakamega (where ex-New FORD Kenya members formed the core of their victors), Kisii and Maasailand, and even won a couple of seats in Kitui and Machakos. ODM swept Luo areas and most of the Coast and Wiper most of Ukambani, while Mudavadi’s ANC, FORD-Kenya and ODM competed for the non-Jubilee western seats. Nairobi split 9 seats to Jubilee to 8 to NASA. The majority of MPs were newcomers, with voters clearly demanding change at the local level, particularly in the Kikuyu and Luo homelands, where few incumbents were re-elected.

The pattern was similar amongst the elected county Women’s MPs (with 31 for Jubilee and its allies versus 16 NASA and one independent) and in the Senate, where Jubilee and allies won 27 elected seats to NASAs 20). Overall, Jubilee won (initially) the presidency, the National Assembly, the Senate and most of the Governorships, the most decisive victory since the NARC wave of 2002.

Contrasting Perspectives and NASA’s Concerns

In general, the elections appeared to have been smoothly run, the results consistent, the electronic portal reporting convincing and the IEBC appeared comfortable in delivering its mandate. Observers commended the process as “peaceful, fair, and transparent”. Believing it had lost its ability to validate and correct constituency errors after the Maina Kiai et al case, IEBC headquarters limited itself – for the presidential election victory announcement – to a process of extraction, verification and entry of the 290 constituency Form 34B returns, the summing of these results and the announcement of the winner. As there remains dispute on this, the key decision summary is reproduced here from the Kiai judgement (http://kenyalaw.org/caselaw/cases/view/133874/):

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The results Chebukati announced from the 34Bs (acknowledged by all to be without a complete set of 40,000 matching polling station Form 34As) matched closely with the parallel returns coming from the polling stations via the electronic KIEMS system in real-time to Bomas. From close of poll on the 8th, the parallel result stream from KIEMS soon showed a lead for Kenyatta and that lead grew over the next 48 hours as more and more of the electronic kits reported in.

The independent Parallel Vote Tabulation conducted by the ELOG domestic observer network and announced on 12 August validated the results almost precisely (its sample-based prediction gave 54% for Kenyatta to 45% to Odinga with a 1.9% margin of error). This was crucial because it provided independent verification to observers and the media that their perception of a well-run election was matched by independent assessment. Of course, this could have been faked, but there is no evidence yet offered that it was.

A macro-level comparison of voters cast and results between elections in fact shows that Odinga did better presidentially than his candidates in general. A re-tallying of the 15.3 million gubernatorial votes by constituency gives 5.7 million votes to ODM, Wiper, CCM, ANC, FORD–Kenya and allied candidates, far less than Odinga’s 6.8 million (in red). Thus Odinga did better in the cancelled presidential elections than did his gubernatorial candidates. The same pattern is seen in Parliament – again, Jubilee candidates polled more than 2 million more than NASA, though results are incomplete become 18 seats still don’t have full results on the Portal (https://public.rts.iebc.or.ke).

alliances

Jubilee = Jubilee + KANU + FAP + MCC + EFP + DP + PNU + NARC-Kenya plus defectors from the above after losing primaries, where known

NASA = ODM + Wiper + CCM +ANC + FORD-K + CCU + NARC plus defectors from the above after losing primaries, where known

Jubilee’s victories in the annulled presidency matched well with its victories in parliament and the Governorships. Comparing the Presidential, Gubernatorial, Senate and Women’s Representative results against each other by winner, in only nine counties did voters switch tickets: Nairobi, Machakos, Lamu, Tana River, Kwale, Taita-Taveta, Turkana, Narok, Trans-Nzoia and Nyamira.

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Of those, Odinga won every one except Nyamira. In summary, if the Presidential result was substantively rigged or the result otherwise affected by the issues found, it is near certain that all the other elections must have been rigged or affected in the same way, as they involved the same voters, method for voting, technology for voter identification and results transmission (KIEMS), the same real-time results display portal, the same voting and counting processes, the same election officials and almost the same end results.

Rather than conceding once the trend was clear, Odinga rejected the presidential results outright (though not the other results) and accused the IEBC of a “complete fraud”. NASA’s impassioned follow up allegations were more specific, claiming form substitution, un-gazetted polling stations and administrative chaos in the IEBC and castigating the IEBC for releasing the presidential results without all the Form 34As. The sometimes-contradictory and implausible hacking claims made by senior politicians including Odinga, James Orengo and Mudavadi on 9-10 August raised the political temperature sharply, as intended, but also distracted attention for a while from real issues which were emerging relating to the IEBCs handing of the Form 34As. Despite widespread scepticism and challenge from the international observers, who had all judged the polls so far (before results had been announced) to be free and fair, NASA’s leaders refused to accept the results, claiming they were “cooked” or “faked” and demanded – even before all form 34B were in – that IEBC declare Raila as President (at one point using a faked NASA parallel count document as supporting evidence).

(Musalia Mudavadi Press Conference, 10 August 2017)

(Musalia Mudavadi Press Conference, 10 August 2017)

Unexpectedly abandoned by the international observers, who they had previously seen as allies, they lashed out at them as well. A few NGOs including the Kenya Human Rights Commission backed up NASA’s allegations to varying degrees, which then raised further fears of state repression (and generated further bad press internationally) when the state briefly tried to shut them down immediately the result was announced.

However, Odinga and the other NASA principles came under intense domestic and international pressure to take the constitutional path, as their ambivalent, partial move to “the streets” to protest during Wednesday 9th – Sunday 13th August was escalating and several people (probably at least 28) had been killed, mostly by the security forces.

NASA followed up their allegations with a petition against the presidential election, filed just within the one-week deadline on 18 August. Until the 16th, they had told Kenyans that “filing a petition at the Supreme Court to challenge the results was out of the question” because of CORD’s difficult experience in 2013 in crafting a case in one week, and the high burden of proof then demanded. However, Odinga and the other NASA principles came under intense domestic and international pressure to take the constitutional path, as their ambivalent, partial move to “the streets” to protest during Wednesday 9th – Sunday 13th August was escalating and several people (probably at least 28) had been killed, mostly by the security forces. Fears of broader communal violence in Nairobi were growing, fuelled by a series of fake media photographs, pretending to be current and of Kenya, designed to incite hatred. The decision to petition offered a temporary release for that tension.

For just one week (extraordinarily brief because of the two-week end to end deadline for concluding presidential cases, which the judiciary had already asked unsuccessfully to be extended) the Supreme Court heard the NASA case and responses from the IEBCs lawyers and other interested parties, with the verdict announced 1 September. NASA’s case focussed on five main areas – the electronic vote transmission system and its potential hacking (with the extraordinary claim that the portal results were a mathematical calculation unrelated to the actual votes cast); the missing form 34As and whether some were invalid or had been faked or substituted and errors in the KIEMS data entry which sent some of the results to the tallying centres; whether the IEBC Chairman should have declared without all the form 34As in his possession; examples of tallying errors between form 34As and Bs and possible malpractice in particular constituencies; and the pre-poll electoral environment including campaigning by Cabinet Secretaries for the ruling alliance.

The two dissenting judges’ Ndung’u and Ojwang’s opinions on the case were brutal – that the petition was without merit, devoid of evidence and that any transmission irregularities did not and could not have affected the outcome of the actual election at the polling stations or the count at constituency tallying centres.

To some surprise, by a 4-2 majority verdict the Supreme Court led by Chief Justice Maraga nullified Kenyatta’s re-election, because the poll was “not conducted in accordance with the Constitution”, and specifically the IEBC had “committed irregularities and illegalities inter alia, in the transmission of results”. The detailed grounds for that decision are not yet known, as the formally argued verdict will only be issued in 21 days (as it was “not humanly possible” in the words of the CJ to prepare the report in the time available). The court found no evidence of misconduct by Kenyatta (which had been one of Odinga’s petition grounds), though again we do not yet know their reasoning. It ordered another “fresh” presidential poll to be held in 60 days.

The two dissenting judges’ Ndung’u and Ojwang’s opinions on the case were brutal – that the petition was without merit, devoid of evidence and that any transmission irregularities did not and could not have affected the outcome of the actual election at the polling stations or the count at constituency tallying centres. Justice Ojwang argued that “there is not an iota of merit in invalidating the clear expression of the Kenyan people”. Kenyatta’s lawyers were furious, with one calling it “a political decision that is absolutely devoid of an iota of legal reasoning”, but the Supreme Court is Kenya’s final court and there is no further appeal.

Where were the Real Issues?

The single most vexed element of the whole election proved to be the electronic vote tallying and reporting, which had been introduced in the 2016 and 2017 Elections Act amendments. The unsolved murder of the IEBC expert responsible for KIEMS just before polling day (the reasons for which have still not been explained, though at least one person is still in custody) added fear and uncertainty to an already confusing situation. Most of this was unnecessary, as the election results used to calculate the Presidential winner should always and only have been those from the form 34Bs. The electronic results which came direct from the 40,833 polling stations to the portal were unofficial, incomplete (because they would and could never get 100% electronic results in a country so large and diverse economically as Kenya) and would inevitably differ (as they in fact did) from the 34Bs prepared at constituency level (mostly due to data entry errors into KIEMS by officials when transcribing manually from the completed forms). Repeated NASA allegations of hacking of the central IEBC server did not make great sense once it was clear that the central IEBC system was only being used for parallel presentation of polling station results from KIEMS. The actual presidential result came from the 290 constituency Form 34Bs. And the allegedly hacked portal had almost exactly the same result (8.2 m to 6.8 m) as that produced by adding the Form 34Bs.

The second significant concern was the delays in obtaining and then displaying the form 34As in IEBC headquarters. These were not (in the IEBC’s view) required for the central presidential announcement, but were still essential in order to determine whether the overall election was free and fair. No constituency RO should have announced their winners without all their form 34As, yet a week after they had finished, thousands were missing. The IEBC originally promised that “The results for the presidential election will be transmitted together with an image of the polling station tally sheet”. Then two days before polling, they announced what had already been widely suspected – that 11,000 polling stations did not have sufficient wireless network coverage – so the results from KIEMS would either come later or minus the scanned Form 34A copy. The whereabouts of these 11,000 forms became a huge problem. The IEBC was ambivalent and even misleading at times in its reporting. It seems they had not initially realised that the ‘one-time use’ model for KIEMS devices meant that for the polling stations where the system could not send the image but could send the results online, the scan of the form 34A would have to be provided much later by other means. These trickled in over the next 1-2 weeks, electronically or by hand. The IECB’s ambiguity over the 34As and the portal cost them dearly in perceptions of their competence and credibility.

Their failure to provide a display portal for the Form 34As and Bs was a mistake which was rectified, quickly for the Form 34As, and then grudgingly, a week after the vote, for the 34Bs. However, once done, it exposed gap between image and reality, when huge swathes of form 34As were found to be missing and some to be illegible. Those which were in the system matched well with the results in the online portal, but some were unsigned, unstamped or in a different format, and no-one knew what had happened to those which were missing. Some reports suggested the gaps were politically material (e.g. disproportionately from Odinga’s homelands).

It now appears that some media houses were ordered not to report on constituency contests, which might lead to suspicion that something deeper was amiss.

This linked to a more systemic concern – the back office operation of IEBC headquarters. While on the face of it, Wafula Chebukati, Ezra Chiloba and other commissioners maintained a relaxed face, and the portal and forms systems worked well, exactly where the portal results were coming from and why so few Form 34As were available has never been fully explained. It seems that administratively things were far from smooth in the back office. Basic security controls were lax, with IEBC staff frantically updating systems with whatever data they could get using various userids, some of their much vaunted document security features were invalid, key constituency documents were duplicated or unsigned and some officials were not even gazetted. There are still no published results apart from those on the portal for any of the other elections – no Form 35,36 ,37 and 38 for the parliamentary, gubernatorial, women representative or senatorial results have been published anywhere. The IEBC portal has results, but they are still incomplete nearly a month after the election, and differ from the (fragmentary) official results gazetted by IEBC on 18 August. In general, the results reporting and display process was unclear and IEBC did not always follow the procedures it had promised pre-election to ensure transparency and build confidence. The evidence from NASA’s petition showed numerous data and quality integrities, which while they were modest in individual impact and probably affected all candidates (and therefore would have limited material effect on the election result) certainly led many to question what was happening behind the scenes.

Another concern (less widely known) is the way in which the Kenyan media focused entirely on the electronic portal for their results, making no effort to report the actual constituency results. No independent tally was maintained and for the first time ever the press did not report any Constituency presidential, parliamentary or other results as announced. Initially I has thought that was simply practical laziness – since the portal was available and online – but it seemed inexplicable that the media were not reporting any of the announcements at all. It now appears that some media houses were ordered not to report on constituency contests, which might lead to suspicion that something deeper was amiss.

Still more concerns existed as to how individual presiding and returning officers behaved during their counting and tallying. Some Presiding Officers (for example in Mandera) were replaced the night before polling for unclear reasons. In some stations in pro-Jubilee homelands, NASA agents were not admitted and there was evidence in some stations of “top up” marking of unused ballots after polls closed. Many of the Form 34As had arithmetical issues or were not appropriately signed. It seems from NASA’s petition that some 34As may have been substituted with new (fake) documents or amended after counts finished (though KIEMS should prevent that, KEIMS didn’t work everywhere). In 13 per cent of polling stations, ELOG reported that Form 34A results were not displayed publicly as required by law. Some Form 34Bs show basic mathematical errors. There is also statistical evidence that (as in previous polls) presidential tallies were somehow inflated in the homelands (though there were few public protests at the time). For example, work in progress by Raiya Huru looking at the statistical distribution of Form 34A numbers suggests that in Murang’a, Nyeri, Nyandarua, Siaya, Kisumu and Homa Bay, the polling station results had been tampered with by someone (http://raiyahuru.com/Analysis.pdf). This matched well the NASA petition analyst’s view that something was amiss statistically with many of the results. The IEBC admitted that there were errors in the forms, but claimed they were not substantial enough to affect the outcome of the election.

The Presidential Election Part II

As the petition proceeded, life had begun to return to normal. The new MPs had been sworn in, governors had mostly completed their handovers, and for most Kenyans, the lengthy, expensive, diverting election was becoming a thing of the past. However, with the Court’s announcement we are now in uncharted waters, with the IEBC required to rerun the presidential poll within 60 days, for reasons which are not yet clear.

The IEBC should have been prepared for a runoff, so in theory all should be ready for a rerun. However, whether the IEBC can put together the temporary staff, the KIEMS devices, the logistics and the ballot papers in time for 17 October we do not yet know, especially as the IEBC itself is now under threat. So far Chebukati is staying put rather than resigning, but Chiloba has been side-lined entirely, as have several other officials (putting further stress on those who remain). But NASA is already objecting to the Supreme Court’s order that IEBC conduct a fresh poll in 60 days (because IEBC must be reconstituted), and IEBC has already decided not to conduct a full presidential poll anyway but only a second round runoff, based on the judgement in the 2013 petition [para 291] that “If the petitioner was only one of the candidates, and who had taken the second position in vote-tally to the President-elect, then the “fresh election” will, in law, be confined to the petitioner and the President-elect.”. And the precedent set in the Presidential petition would appear to allow every loser in the other five elections to annul every winner’s election on the same basis, if they can file a petition in time. So, more court cases loom while time runs out.

How effectively the two alliances will respond – without much time to raise money – to the need to do it all again no-one knows, but Jubilee are now grim, angry and spoiling for a rematch, which may well be dirtier than the first. My first guess would be that the result of the second election, if actually held, will be similar to that in the last, and in all the other “down ballot” elections, but until we know the real reasons why the Court annulled the vote, we do not know how much impact the irregularities they found may have had on the first presidential result. Victory in the courts may give the NASA camp fresh impetus and mitigate the pro-Jubilee bandwagon effect of incumbency, but Jubilee have a huge regional advantage (as they always did), more money and no intention of losing.

I had thought this would be my last piece, but perhaps we will need one more.

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Charles Hornsby is the author of Kenya; A History since Independence and lives in Ireland.

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A DARK TRUTH: The racist dynamic at the heart of Kenya’s conservation practices and policies

MORDECAI OGADA explains why black Africans are almost completely absent in the field of conservation in Kenya, which has been hijacked by whites and foreigners who pander to prejudices that have been cultivated by romantic or colonial notions about Africa and its wildlife.

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A DARK TRUTH: The racist dynamic at the heart of Kenya’s conservation practices and policies

The practice of conservation and the narrative around African wildlife is a kingdom, albeit without a single monarch. The monarchy and nobility consist of an eclectic mix of royalty, commoners, idlers, misfits, scientists, killers (who refer to themselves as “hunters”) across a very broad spectrum of backgrounds. We have youthful cowboys in their 20s, and we have octogenarians. There are also wealthy lords and scruffy backpackers. The one thread that links them is the fact that they are all white.

Their race is also what confers upon them a unity of purpose and mutual sympathy in lands where the indigenous majority are black. This kingdom is absolute and doesn’t tolerate dissent from its subjects. Those who serve the kingdom faithfully are rewarded with senior positions in the technical (not policy) arena and international awards and are showered with praise and backhanded compliments in descriptions like “being switched on”, “a good chap”, and best of all, “a reformed poacher”. This praise also manifests itself in the form of the Tusk Conservation Award, which is conferred annually by the Duke of Cambridge, HRH Prince William, on the local conservationist who best serves as an implementer or enforcer of the kingdom’s conservation goals.

Structured conservation practice in East Africa began largely when demobilised World War II soldiers started looking for a field where they could apply one of the few skills they had gained in the war (shooting) without harming people. The rise of the conservation officer or protector was actually preceded by the establishment of the first hunting reserves at the turn of the century a few decades earlier.

However, there was a new recognition that the resource was finite and needed to be preserved for the exclusive use of the colonial nobility that was necessarily defined by race; hence the need for enforcement. Exploitation of African wildlife by Western consumers began in the early 1900s with hunting safaris, which were basically tests of resilience and skill with the target of harvesting the biggest and largest number from this bounty under pretty harsh and rustic conditions. It was closely followed in the 1960s by the photographic safari and cinematography that cemented the romanticism of these adventures in the African wild. This led to a spurt in tourist interest, which no doubt pleased the foreign exchange-hungry newly independent states.

Intellectual desert

Two major pitfalls arose from the romantic age between 1950 and1970 – pitfalls that continue to determine how wildlife conservation is practised today. The first major pitfall was the illogical link and valuation of wildlife based on tourists’ appreciation and (where hunting was allowed) consumption. The second pitfall was the firm placement of black Africans as “props” who were destined never to be equal intellectual participants in the management of and discourse around African wildlife. Thus my compulsion to describe Kenya (rather harshly, in some of my readers’ estimation) as an “intellectual desert” as far as wildlife conservation is concerned.

Two major pitfalls arose from the romantic age between 1950 and1970 – pitfalls that continue to determine how wildlife conservation is practised today. The first major pitfall was the illogical link and valuation of wildlife based on tourists’ appreciation and (where hunting was allowed) consumption. The second pitfall was the firm placement of black Africans as “props” who were destined never to be equal intellectual participants in the management of and discourse around African wildlife.

Indeed, photographic and hunting safaris have since then included a very obvious but unspoken element of domination over black Africans – we can see it in the nameless black faces in white hunters’ photographs and in the postures of servile African staff attending to white tourists in the advertising brochures. Black Africans are totally absent as clients in all the media and advertising materials and campaigns. When hunting was legal in Kenya, it was normal for a photograph of a hunter with his guides, porters and gun bearer to be captioned: “Major F. Foggybottom and a fine leopard bagged in the Maasai Mara region of Kenya, September, 1936.” Fast forward 80 years or so. Black Africans are prominent in their absence from the reams and hours of literature and footage on Africa’s spectacular wildlife. The uniformity of this anomaly is startling across the board, whether one is watching the Discovery channel, BBC, or National Geographic.

With the advance of neoliberalism, market forces have become important drivers of both tacit and explicit policies all over the world. In African conservation policy and practice, the black African has become like an insidious impurity that sometimes leaks into the final product but should ideally be absent in anything considered “premium”. This is not to say that media houses and marketing firms are deliberately engaging in racial discrimination; however, they are, sadly, pandering to prejudices that have been cultivated by romantic or colonial notions about Africa and its wildlife.

The colour bar

Blatant racism becomes much more evident in the conservation field, which in Kenya is dominated by whites. From a strictly academic standpoint, the open discrimination and obvious colour bar evident in the conservation sector in Kenya is fascinating for two major reasons: one is its longevity – business, agriculture, banking, education and all other fields have changed beyond recognition in the last few decades, but conservation remains firmly in the “Victorian gamekeeper” mode, where conservation is basically about protecting wildlife from the proletariat so that the nobles can consume the same for luxury/ recreational purposes.

The second is the acceptance of this status quo by senior indigenous state officials and technical experts across the board. Wildlife conservation is the one field where highly-qualified black Africans are routinely supervised by white practitioners of far lesser technical pedigree or experience. Indeed, some of the supervisors are American or Europeans relatively new to Kenya and with very rudimentary knowledge (if any) of Kenyan wildlife and ecosystems. Examples that come to mind are the appointment of one Peter Hetz (MSc, American) as Executive Director of the Laikipia Wildlife Forum in 2011 to supervise one Mordecai Ogada (PhD, Kenyan) who was appointed as Deputy Director. The recent appointment of Mr. Jochen Zeitz to the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) board is another case in point. Here I have used very pointed racial references because it is quite simply a racial divide. We simply do not find non-Caucasian foreigners in wildlife leadership positions in Kenya, nor do we find Latin Americans or Asians. We also don’t find Kenyans of European descent in any of the subordinate roles.

Wildlife conservation is the one field where highly-qualified black Africans are routinely supervised by white practitioners of far lesser technical pedigree or experience. Indeed, some of the supervisors are American or Europeans relatively new to Kenya and with very rudimentary knowledge (if any) of Kenyan wildlife and ecosystems.

How, an observer might ask, is this hierarchy maintained without any disruption by the growing number of indigenous Kenyans pursuing advanced studies in the conservation field? How do the academic exertions of all these technicians fail to moisten the intellectual desert in Kenyan conservation?

One reason is because, just like water never produces vegetation on seedless ground, the intellectual barrenness of indigenous Kenyans has been built into the training facilities and curricula. It goes without saying that Kenya’s ecological diversity and abundant wildlife are key pillars in the country’s economic, social and cultural identity, but Moi University, the de facto leading local institution in this field, only offers a degree course in “wildlife management”, which basically equips local wildlife practitioners to be technicians or foot soldiers for conservation, not to be fully engaged with any of the intellectual challenges that exist in the sector. Those who are better trained and experienced in this field are a small minority who seldom find acceptance in the sector because they inherently threaten the existing hierarchy.

KWS itself has two training facilities: the Manyani field school and a well-resourced training institute in Naivasha. Manyani is a proven centre of excellence in tactical field training necessary for wildlife rangers. The Naivasha training institute, which was established in 1985 to develop the “soft skills” and policy thinking around conservation and fisheries, changed in 2009 when it began offering rudimentary naturalist and paraecologist courses more geared towards serving the tourism industry than the cause of conservation. As one would expect, the academic contribution of this institution to tourism falls so short of the standards required by Kenya’s highly developed tourism industry that in the final analysis, it is a lost investment. One of its more recent distinctions is the levels of academic performance advertised on its website as requirements for admission, which are far below what an institution training custodians of any country’s most valuable resource should be.

Closer analysis of these institutions and their low intellectual ceilings reveals a far subtler, but important, perspective on the colour bar in Kenyan conservation. The people being trained in these institutions are replacing the gun bearers and gamekeepers of feudal England and colonial Kenya.

Kenya as a nation still struggles with this colour bar and our public arena is replete with the symptoms of it. One that stands out is the dropping of charges against the late Tom Cholmondeley for the killing of Samson Ole Sisina, a KWS officer, at the scene of an industrial bushmeat harvesting and processing operation on the former’s Soysambu ranch. Those familiar with Kenyan society know that the killing of a security officer on duty is a (judicial or extrajudicial) death sentence in Kenya 99.99% of the time. The truth is that there were absolutely no mitigating circumstances here, other than the victim’s race. Barely a year later, in May 2006, Cholmondeley shot and killed Robert Njoya, a stonemason who lived in a village that borders his 50,000-acre estate, a crime for which he was jailed in 2009 following public uproar.

Closer analysis of these institutions and their low intellectual ceilings reveals a far subtler, but important, perspective on the colour bar in Kenyan conservation. The people being trained in these institutions are replacing the gun bearers and gamekeepers of feudal England and colonial Kenya.

More recently, in January 2018, there was a memorial service for the late Gilfrid Powys, a renowned rancher, conservationist, and KWS honorary warden. The service was attended by a plethora of top brass from KWS in full uniform, as well as several government leaders, as befitted his status in society. I suspect many in the congregation were taken aback when one of the eulogisers, Mr. Willy Potgieter, read a long and touching tribute where he detailed how the departed wasn’t a particularly religious man but would indulge his spirituality by hunting buffalo every Sunday morning. The discomfiture of the uniformed staff and company gathered was palpable and would have been amusing had it not been such a stark testament to the existence of conservation apartheid in our country and our society’s acceptance thereof.

Sanitised terminology

Apartheid in conservation matters. The duplicity that exists within many people and institutions purported to be dedicated to conservation may seem bizarre to those unfamiliar with the sector. Here is how it works: Basic psychological examination of wildlife hunting reveals that it is a uniquely complex aspect of human endeavour because it occurs at both ends of the spectrum of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Subsistence hunting is firmly at the bottom of the hierarchy as it fulfils physiological needs while sport hunting is at the top, within the realm of self-actualisation. This is illustrated by the celebrated blood sports of falconry and fox hunting pursued by royalty in the Middle East and Britain, respectively.

The highly sanitised terminology is also in striking contrast to the derogatory terms like “bushmeat poaching” used in reference to subsistence hunting. This highlights the role of the media in cultivating the racial divide because in Africa the term “poacher” or “bushmeat” is never applied to the activities or diets of people of European descent, regardless of legality.

Likewise, the term “hunter” is never applied to the activities of black people. These three degrees of separation in the hierarchy of needs are the basis of the colour bar. They are the reasons behind the flawed belief that we can allow white people to kill (not poach) wildlife and shoot black people suspected of being “poachers”. This is also the basis of the ongoing nonsensical scheme of a “task force” going around Kenya trying to gather support for proposed “consumptive use” of wildlife, an activity de facto delineated by race. It stands to even casual examination that the practice of structured legal hunting of wildlife in Kenya (and much of Africa) is an activity controlled by, and indulged in, by people of Caucasian extraction.

The highly sanitised terminology is also in striking contrast to the derogatory terms like “bushmeat poaching” used in reference to subsistence hunting. This highlights the role of the media in cultivating the racial divide because in Africa the term “poacher” or “bushmeat” is never applied to the activities or diets of people of European descent, regardless of legality.

It also goes without saying that the colour bar we live with in Kenyan conservation is an anachronism that we should have escaped from in the mid-20th century. But before we can achieve that freedom, we must squarely face up to the problem and appreciate its full extent. It is systemic.

When the board chairmanship of KWS fell vacant about four years ago, our government turned, almost reflexively, to the ageing Dr Richard Leakey, who is no longer at his physical or intellectual best, and who, in my view, is not even the best candidate for the job. The spectacular failure, frantic inactivity, and deafening silence on conservation issues that characterised Dr Leakey’s last tenure at KWS came as no surprise to those of us familiar with the man’s capabilities. The most poignant memory of this is a photo of Leakey posing with the black board members holding tusks beside him – an image that evoked memories of the “great white hunter” of yore. The photo itself was taken during the torching of 105 tonnes of ivory in 2016, a fairly logical conservation activity, but the carefully structured pose shows a board composed of people who have no knowledge or reading of the history and culture around wildlife conservation in Kenya. If they had even rudimentary knowledge of the history of conservation practice in Kenya, they would have recognised that their photo was misplaced in space and time. There is little doubt that Leakey (and possibly Brian Heath, in the back left, distancing himself from the ivory) were aware of this nuance and were the only intellectual participants in this photo – and therein lies a snapshot of our enduring tragedy.

The intellectual desert that is Kenya’s conservation sector remains as barren as ever in 2018. The sporadic and disjointed efforts to moisten it with sprinklers will all come to nought unless we concurrently plant the seeds of indigenous knowledge and expertise.

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Bobi Wine and the Politics of Revolution

ISAAC OTIDI AMUKE documents the rise of the “Ghetto President” who has become a person of particular interest to the Ugandan state. By ISAAC OTIDI AMUKE

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Bobi Wine and the Politics of Revolution

‘‘I believe in the politics of friendship. Without the politics of friendship there can be no radical movement.’’ – Srecko Horvat

‘‘…struggles, incarcerations and whistle blowing bring people together through friendship to try and do something. Will we succeed? Who knows! Who cares! What matters is the actual process of trying to do it… the chances may not be good. But we have the moral obligation to try’’

– Yanis Varoufakis

It came as a huge relief to many – especially to his wife Barbara and their four children – to learn that the highly popular Ugandan musician and MP for Kyaddondo East, Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu – popularly known as Bobi Wine – was still alive following his dramatic night arrest on August 13, 2018 in Arua town, Northern Uganda. The country’s political machinery – including President Yoweri Kaguta Museveni of the ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) and Dr. Kizza Besigye Kifefe of the opposition’s Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) – had descended on Arua Municipality to drum up support for their respective candidates in a hotly contested by-election necessitated by the June 8, 2018 shooting to death of the incumbent MP, Ibrahim Abiriga, a Museveni loyalist who was killed alongside his bodyguard by hitmen riding on a motorcycle.

Kyagulanyi, who some say appears to have been flirting with the idea of establishing a people’s movement – a third force of sorts away from the Museveni-Besigye historical antagonism – arrived in Arua with clarity of purpose. Lately, he had been preaching that Uganda’s problems would not be solved through adherence to political party positions, and had been urging his supporters to think of broader formations, a proposition which sounded a little vague and amorphous.

On arriving in Arua, Kyagulanyi chose to back a different candidate from those backed by the big boys, Besigye and Museveni. Addressing a packed rally, he acknowledged that the divided opposition risked losing the seat to Museveni’s NRM, seeing that the crowded field of contestants had five individuals who passed for progressives. The way out, he suggested, was if the opposition overwhelmingly voted for the most suitable candidate out of the five. He endorsed Kassiano Wadri, a onetime MP and parliamentary whip in Besigye’s FDC, who ran as an independent. On August 15, Wadri won the seat from his prison cell.

Two notable events happened during the final round of campaigns in Arua. The first was when Kyagulanyi led a huge procession of cheering supporters – him riding atop a vehicle and urging his followers on – past a relatively well-attended Besigye rally, forcing the former army colonel to cut short his speech and wait for the noise to subside, seeing that the uninvited guests had overpowered the strength of his microphone. The whole episode had a somewhat humiliating effect on Besigye, the long-time undisputed symbol of opposition politics in Uganda. He nevertheless maintained a straight face, eventually succumbing to a group dance once the music started playing, seeing that the only way to ignore the intruders was by getting busy.

The second incident took place when President Museveni’s convoy was driving out of Arua and passed a group of supposed Kyagulanyi supporters who jeered the head of state. However, according to Museveni’s version of events, as posted on his Facebook page, his convoy was stoned, resulting in the shattering of the rear window of his official vehicle. It was this second event that resulted in Kyagulanyi’s troubles.

In a hurried tweet sent on the fateful August 13 night, Kyagulanyi released a photo of the lifeless body of his driver, Yasiin Kawuma, shot inside the MP’s vehicle. “Police has shot my driver dead thinking they’ve shot me. My hotel is cordoned of…” read part of the tweet. The message was perturbing. Kyagulanyi’s followers expected more updates from him but none came.

The following day, news broke that the MP had been arrested, alongside 33 of his colleagues on the Arua campaign trail, their whereabouts remaining a mystery. It was alleged that Kyagulanyi had been found in possession of a gun in his hotel room, and was being charged with treason before a military court. There were fears that he and his colleagues had been heavily tortured.

In a hurried tweet sent on the fateful August 13 night, Kyagulanyi released a photo of the lifeless body of his driver, Yasiin Kawuma, shot inside the MP’s vehicle. “Police has shot my driver dead thinking they’ve shot me. My hotel is cordoned of…” read part of the tweet. The message was perturbing. Kyagulanyi’s followers expected more updates from him but none came.

***

Kyagulanyi became a person of particular interest to the Ugandan state following his June 29, 2017 victory in a parliamentary by-election in Kampala. Running as an independent against Museveni’s NRM and Besigye’s FDC, the new kid on the block seemed to have brought with him the multitude of supporters accumulated through his music career, merging showbiz with the new business of commandeering an insurrection in Uganda, shifting from artist to politician and vice versa.

The Ghetto President – Kyagulanyi’s other moniker – had taken Uganda’s political establishment by storm, and possibly by surprise, some having imagined that the satirical (or not) ghetto presidency had no tangible political implication. However, the residents of Kyaddondo East – the real and proverbial ghetto Kyagulanyi governed – showed through the ballot that his “presidency” was real.

One of the early signs that Kyagulanyi would prove troublesome to the Museveni regime was his defiant and confrontational conduct during the debate to abolish the presidential age limit, a sneaky NRM-driven amendment that sought to scrap a constitutional provision barring anyone beyond 75 years of age from contesting for the country’s presidency. For the NRM, it was necessary to leave a window of possibility open for Museveni were he to entertain thoughts of participating in future elections. Kyagulanyi, as part of the opposition’s Red Beret movement, became a star attraction when violence broke out, turning parliament’s debating chamber into a boxing ring.

Photographed and filmed physically facing off with overzealous state security agents who breached parliamentary protocol and sneaked in to manhandle opposition MPs, Kyagulanyi engaged in fist fights with Museveni’s henchmen, who seemed to have marked him as a prime target. When the same series of events were repeated a second time, Kyagulanyi uprooted a microphone stand and used it as a weapon against the security men, proving that when push came to shove, he was willing to use his fists in defending the things he believed in. Museveni took note.

***

Kyagulanyi had only been an MP for a year when a new group of pundits began comparing him to the FDC’s Besigye. The young MP was holding massive rallies wherever he went in Uganda, a spectacle previously seen as a preserve of the consummate FDC leader. Suddenly, Besigye appeared to have a challenger for the opposition’s throne.

Before Arua, there had been a number of other by-elections in Jinja East, Bugiri, then Rukungiri, Besigye’s home district. In an interesting turn of events, Besigye’s FDC candidate won Jinja East, with Bugiri going to Kyagulanyi’s candidate. However, when it was Rukungiri’s turn, Besigye and Kyagulanyi combined forces and campaigned together for the victory of the FDC candidate. In his party’s acceptance speech in Rukungiri, Besigye said that the election was won not because they had the numbers but because of defiance, and thanked Kyagulanyi for his support, a clear acknowledgement that the veteran appreciated the capabilities of the rookie. It is through these successive by-elections that Kyagulanyi got an early chance to test his support outside of Kampala.

Kyagulanyi had only been an MP for a year when a new group of pundits began comparing him to the FDC’s Besigye. The young MP was holding massive rallies wherever he went in Uganda, a spectacle previously seen as a preserve of the consummate FDC leader. Suddenly, Besigye appeared to have a challenger for the opposition’s throne.

Upon Kyagulanyi’s arrest in Arua on the night of August 13, among those who demanded for his immediate release were Besigye and other leading FDC figures, including Kampala’s Mayor Erias Lukwago, who was acting as one of Kyagulanyi’s attorneys, and the former head of Uganda’s military and FDC stalwart Major General Mugisha Muntu, who stood front and centre in his defense.

Yet the Besigye-Kyagulanyi comparisons wouldn’t go away, even at this dicey time. On leaving Kampala’s Lubaga Cathedral on August 22, where prayers were being held for Kyagulanyi, a journalist asked Besigye if he might be a stumbling block to the young MP’s political project for Uganda. ‘‘People have to get this clear,’’ Besigye said. “I am not contesting for any seat and there is no leadership contest between Kyagulanyi and I.”

From the cathedral, Besigye headed for a night radio interview, where he furthered the gospel of freeing Kyagulanyi. The following morning, on August 23, Besigye took to social media to post familiar photos of police vehicles barricading the road leading to his home in Kampala’s Kasangati area in an effort to block him from standing in solidarity with Kyagulanyi, who was being presented before court. The residences of Mayor Erias Lukwago and Ingrid Turinawe, the head of the FDC’s Women’s League, were also cordoned-off. Coincidentally, a 2016 video of a defiant Turinawe confronting policemen and throwing open roadblock spikes placed outside the road to Besigye’s home had been trending.

***

In reading Ugandan journalist Daniel Kalinaki’s book Kizza Besigye and Uganda’s Unfinished Revolution, one realises that fighting Museveni is not a walk in the park. Detailing the early days of the National Resistance Army (NRA) – later NRM – bush war, Kalinaki takes one on the long journey Besigye travelled as a comrade of Museveni before the two fell out. Besigye had come to realise that Museveni had gone rogue and had started to shop around for comrades who were courageous enough to stand up to the latter’s fast growing dictatorship.

In an interesting turn of events, Besigye even asked his wife, Oxfam’s executive director, Winnie Byanyima, if she thought she could lead the onslaught. When everyone else thought they weren’t ready yet to lead the revolt, Besigye grudgingly decided to be the man of the moment, starting a journey that would take him to prison, exile and back, which cost him broken limbs and more.

There is no doubt that Kyagulanyi has become a political sensation in Uganda. It also has to be said that depending on how things go – considering factors within and outside his control – he may have a truly bright future as an important leader in the struggle for the liberation of Uganda.

However, throughout this period of his detention, and looking back at his meteoric rise as one of Uganda’s most visible opposition figures, one wonders what this moment portends for Kyagulanyi, since, as many had predicted, it was only a question of when – and not if – Museveni would strike back with the might of his state security apparatus. It is in looking at individuals like Besigye – on whose shoulders Kyagulanyi must stand, one way or another – where some answers, certainly not all, will arise. It is the likes of Besigye, who have travelled this road before and who refused to compromise, who may offer Kyagulanyi some clarity. It is through such associations that Kyagulanyi may learn how to navigate certain difficult terrains. Kalinaki’s book shows how a youthful Besigye was forced to make tough choices the moment he chose to oppose Museveni, lessons that Kyagulanyi can benefit from.

There is no doubt that Kyagulanyi has become a political sensation in Uganda. It also has to be said that depending on how things go – considering factors within and outside his control – he may have a truly bright future as an important leader in the struggle for the liberation of Uganda.

***

In “wanting to stress that we live in dangerous times in which everyone opposed to the political and financial powers might soon become targets”, a unique series of events held in July 2016 titled ‘‘First They Came for Assange’’ happened simultaneously across 14 cities, marking four years since WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange sought refuge at the Ecuadorian Embassy in London. It was during such an event in Brussels that Greece’s former Finance Minister, Yanis Varoufakis, while in conversation with the Croatian philosopher Srecko Horvat – both of whom are Assange’s close friends and regular visitors to his place of isolation – said the following:

“We talk about brave people like Julian… all those people that are putting themselves in the line of fire on behalf of that which is good and proper. But there is a lot of cowardice today, friends, ladies and gentlemen. Julian Assange has a problem with his shoulder. Do you know that it is impossible to get a shoulder specialist to come into the embassy and take a look at him? Because they fear they will lose their clientele. We have to remember that human beings are capable of the best and the worst. Our job as a movement is to cultivate the former against the latter.”

Julian Assange may or may not be some people’s ideal example of a freedom fighter, but there is no denying the fact that through his continued isolation at the Ecuadorian Embassy in London, he has become a contemporary example of how persecution can be meted out on an individual for reasons directly or indirectly linked to their revolutionary actions and beliefs.

Importantly, the words by Varoufakis underline one truism that is apparent as we witness the overwhelming outpouring of support for Kyagulanyi. With hundreds, if not thousands, using his silhouette as their profile picture on social media, we must come to the conclusion that there can be no successful revolution in these times we live in – where everyday struggles push us into little survival cocoons – without the politics of revolution embracing the politics of friendship. Even a retweet or an M-Pesa contribution can trickle into a massive pot of support that may just turn the tide.

The journey will be long and tedious – especially after Kyagulanyi’s release.

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BATTLE FOR THE PEARL: Bobi Wine, Museveni and the future of Uganda

President Museveni successfully thwarted political opposition until Bobi Wine came along and posed a formidable challenge to the ageing leader’s ambitions. By ERIASA SSERUNJOGI

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BATTLE FOR THE PEARL: Bobi Wine, Museveni and the future of Uganda

Thirty-six years ago, in 1982, the year Bobi Wine was born, Uganda’s President Yoweri Museveni was busy commanding the war that eventually led him to power. At 36, Museveni had run for president in 1980 as a rabble-rouser representing the new Uganda Patriotic Movement (UPM).

His party did not even stand an outside chance of winning the election, with Milton Obote’s Uganda People’s Congress (UPC) and Paul Ssemogerere’s Democratic Party (DP) being the hot favourites. In the end, Museveni even failed to win his own parliamentary seat. During the campaigns, he had warned that he would start a war should the election be rigged, and he did indeed start a war after UPC controversially claimed the election for itself amidst claims that DP had won.

Paulo Muwanga, who was the head of the interim Military Commission government on which Museveni served as Deputy Minister for Defence, had arrogated himself the powers that were entrusted in the Electoral Commission to announce election results, returning UPC as the winner, with Obote proceeding to form a government for the second time, having been earlier deposed by Idi Amin in 1971.

Museveni had watched the intrigue and power play and how the gun had emerged as the decisive factor in Ugandan politics since 1966. He had decided early in life that his route to power would be through the barrel of the gun. His determination to employ the gun became manifest when he launched a war against Amin’s new government in the early 1970s.

Museveni’s Fronasa fighters were part of the combined force that was backed by the Tanzanian army to flush out Amin in 1979. Also among the fighting forces was a group that was loyal to Obote. Museveni’s and Obote’s forces and other groups were looking for ways to outsmart one another as they fought the war. It was a time when Bobi Wine was not yet born.

Bobi Wine (real name Robert Kyagulanyi), who has been a Member of Parliament for just a year, has followed a different path. He is one of those Ugandans who believe that Museveni should be the last Ugandan leader to access power through the barrel of the gun. He wants future leaders to work their way into the hearts of Ugandans and convince them that they can take the country forward.

Bobi Wine first rose to popularity through music. Even though the popstar is new to Ugandan politics, he has for over a decade been disseminating political messages through his songs, in which he positions himself as a poor man’s freedom fighter.

Bobi Wine (real name Robert Kyagulanyi), who has been a Member of Parliament for just a year, has followed a different path. He is one of those Ugandans who believe that Museveni should be the last Ugandan leader to access power through the barrel of the gun.

Through his music, he has criticised the government when he felt it sold the people short; he has castigated the Kampala City authorities over throwing vendors and other poor people off the streets; and he has sought to encourage Ugandans, especially the youth, to take charge of their destiny.

“When freedom of expression becomes the target of oppression,” Bobi Wine said in one of his songs, “opposition becomes our position.” That was before he joined active politics.

When he married in 2011, he made sure that the marriage was celebrated by the Archbishop of the Catholic Church in the capital. When he was incarcerated recently, there were prayers for him at Rubaga Cathedral, the seat of the Catholic Church in Uganda. Catholics are the biggest religious grouping in the country.

Bobi Wine was born in Gomba, one of the counties of Buganda, the biggest ethnic group in Uganda. He has worked his way into the Buganda king’s heart, dubbing himself “Omubanda wa Kabaka” (the King’s Rasta man).

In Uganda’s music industry, Bobi Wine and his “Fire Base Crew” rose to the very top in their category, with Bobi Wine calling himself the “Ghetto President”, whose retinue included a “Vice President”, a cabinet and other members. He also has a security detail. His chief personal bodyguard – Eddie Sebuufu, aka Eddie Mutwe – was picked up at night by suspected military operatives on August 24, 2018.

Bobi Wine has over the past decade traversed the country where he has been performing as an artiste. Then, shortly after his election to Parliament, he travelled to many places within the country to introduce himself this time as a politician. He enjoys name recognition across the country that no Ugandan politician of his age and experience can command.

Battle for the youth

Bobi Wine plays the music that many Ugandan youth want to listen to, but he also preaches the gospel of change and prosperity in a way that is attracting crowds to him. He was born in rural central Uganda but he moved into a shanty neighbourhood of Kampala early in life, struggling through what most young people in the city experience. Although he went school up to university level, he went through all the hassles that young Ugandans go through. He speaks their language.

The Uganda Bureau of Statistics (UBOS) projects that at the mid-point of this year, Uganda had 39,041,200 people. Of these, only 648,000 people were projected to be 70-years-old or older. This means that Museveni, at 74 years of age, is among a lucky 1.7 per cent of Ugandans who are alive at the age of 70 or above. In fact, only 450,500 people, or 1.2 per cent of Ugandans, according to the UBOS projection, are as old as Museveni or older.

Reliable numbers on employment in Uganda are hard to come by but it is generally agreed that the country has one of the highest youth unemployment rates in the world. Museveni’s opponents often cite his age to make the point to the youth that their future is not safe with a 74-year-old leader who has been in power for 32 years.

The Uganda Bureau of Statistics (UBOS) projects that at the mid-point of this year, Uganda had 39,041,200 people. Of these, only 648,000 people were projected to be 70-years-old or older. This means that Museveni, at 74 years of age, is among a lucky 1.7 per cent of Ugandans who are alive at the age of 70 or above.

Museveni being Museveni – the Maradona of Uganda’s politics – has tried to tilt the debate on age to his advantage. He has, for instance, distinguished between “biological age” and “ideological age”, saying that many Ugandans are young biologically but very old ideologically. He has identified “ideological disorientation” as one of Uganda’s “strategic bottlenecks”, positioning his “ideological youth” as the solution. For one to be “ideologically young”, Museveni says, one needs to have the right ideas and mindset on how to transform society. He regards himself as a master in that. He says biological age is of no consequence in politics.

In his State of the Nation address last year, the Ugandan president said staying in power for long – and therefore being old – is a good thing because the leader gains immense experience along the way. In the wake of the recent arrest of Bobi Wine and 32 others who were charged with treason after allegations of stoning the president’s motorcade, Museveni wrote at least six messages on social media addressed to “fellow countrymen, countrywomen and bazzukulu (grandchildren)”. He now takes comfort in addressing many of his voters and opponents as grandchildren.

The choice of social media (especially Facebook and Twitter) as the preferred way of transmitting the president’s messages also raised debate. From July 1, social media users had a daily tax imposed on them because the president said people used the platforms for rumour-mongering. Many social media users have avoided the tax by installing virtual private networks (VPNs) on their handsets and so the “rumour-mongering” on social media continues. Since younger people spend a lot of time on social media, their septuagenarian president has decided to follow them there. Whenever he has addressed them as “grandchildren”, there have been hilarious responses in the comments section.

Beyond the debates, Museveni has in past election campaigns come up with a number of things to attract the youth, including recording something akin to a rap song in the lead-up the 2011 elections. But if it is about music, Museveni now faces Bobi Wine, a man less than half his age who has spent all his adult life as a popular musician.

Museveni’s government has tried one thing after another in an attempt to provide the jobs that young people badly need, with initiatives ranging from setting up a heavily financed, but highly ineffectual, youth fund in the ministry of Gender, Labour and Social Development. After the 2016 elections, in which Museveni suffered the heaviest defeat in Kampala City and its environs, he set out to dish out cash to youth groups to promote their businesses. Not much has come out of this initiative.

When he shot to power in 1986, Museveni rebuked leaders who overstayed their welcome, saying that the vice was at the root of Africa’s problems. As time went by, and with him still in power, he changed his views. He now says that he actually prefers leaders who stay in power for long periods. Museveni’s opponents latch onto such contradictions as they keep piling up.

Is it Bobi Wine’s turn?

Over the last 32 years that he has been around, Museveni has had a number of challengers and Bobi Wine is now threatening to storm the stage as the new kid on the block.

When he shot to power in 1986, Museveni rebuked leaders who overstayed their welcome, saying that the vice was at the root of Africa’s problems. As time went by, and with him still in power, he changed his views. He now says that he actually prefers leaders who stay in power for long periods.

Many of the people who were in the trenches with Museveni in the earlier years and who dreamt of picking the baton of leadership from him have dropped their ambitions because age and/or other circumstances have come into play as Museveni stayed put. Former ministers who once nursed presidential ambitions, like Bidandi Ssali, Amanya Mushega, Prof George Kanyeihamba and even the younger Mike Mukula, for instance, have since retreated to private lives. Others, like Eriya Kategaya and James Wapakhabulo, have passed on.

Of the Bush War comrades who harboured ambitions of taking over from Museveni, only four-time challenger Kizza Besigye and former army commander Mugisha Muntu remain standing, with the largely silent former prime minister Amama Mbabazi thought to be lying in wait for a possible opening.

By staying in power for so long – since January 1986 – Museveni has worn out his ambitious former comrades and perhaps even ensured that the chance to rule the country passes their generation by, a reality that has made it more likely that he will face a challenger who is younger than his own children.

But Museveni will not allow this generation of youth to win. The ruling party consistently stifles the emergence of younger leaders. In the lead-up to the 2016 election, for instance, Museveni’s National Resistance Movement party saw a rare surge in activity championed by younger people. One of Museveni’s in-laws, Odrek Rwabwogo, was among them. Rwabwogo had resorted to penning a string of articles in the partly state-owned New Vision newspaper about how the ruling party’s ideology could be sharpened to take care of the new Uganda. A number of other younger leaders within the party vied for space and expressed their visions in what was interpreted by some as a jostle for a front row seat as Museveni was expected to be standing for his last term in preparation for retirement in 2021.

Then, shortly after returning to power in 2016, Museveni engineered the removal from the Constitution the 75-year cap for presidential candidates, which would make him eligible to run again for as many times as he would be physically able to handle. This was a sure sign that Museveni was not willing to hand over power to a more youthful generation.

Repression heightens

The move to remove the age limit for presidential candidates from the Constitution inevitably invited stiff opposition from those who for decades have worked towards removing Museveni from power. In September last year, army men invaded Parliament and beat up and arrested Members of Parliament who were trying to filibuster the debate and perhaps derail the introduction of the bill to remove the age limit. Two MPs were beaten to a pulp and one of them, Betty Nambooze, has been in and out of hospitals in Kampala and India over broken or dislocated discs in her back.

This unfortunate incident, however, did not stop the State from bringing charges against her when after the shooting to death in June of an MP, Ibrahim Abiriga – who was one of the keenest supporters of the removal of age limits – Nambooze made comments on social media that the State interpreted as illegal. This week she had to report to the police over the matter, but she was informed that the officers were ready to have her charged in court, where she was delivered in an ambulance. She was carted into the courtroom on a wheelchair for the charges to be read out to her before the magistrate granted her bail. She sobbed all the way and afterwards wrote on Facebook that while in court she was “crying for my country”.

Francis Zaake, the other MP who was also was beaten, had to be taken to the US for treatment. He is now being treated again and is set to be fly out of the country due to injuries he sustained during the violence in Arua in which Bobi Wine was also attacked by soldiers of the Special Forces Command that guards the president.

Bobi Wine and 32 others have since been charged with treason but Zaake hasn’t yet – though Museveni has said in one of his statements posted on social media that Zaake escaped from police custody. When he is supposed to have escaped, Zaake was unconscious and could not move or talk. He was reportedly just dropped and dumped at the hospital by unidentified people. The head of the hospital has said that Zaake is at risk of permanent disability because of the damage he suffered to his spinal cord. The authorities say they are waiting for Zaake to recuperate so that he can face charges related to the violence in Arua.

By these callous actions, Museveni has demonstrated how ruthless he can get when his power is challenged. He has referred to the injured MPs as “indisciplined” and has not extended any sympathy towards them.

Those who have dared to challenge Museveni, especially Besigye, have been here before. The new opposition politicians currently in the line of fire, including Bobi Wine, have been served with a dose of what to expect if they push Museveni hard. The decision on how far they are willing to go is now in their court.

It seems that Museveni plans to apply to Bobi Wine the script he has used on Besigye over the past two decades. Apart from being targeted for physical assaults, Bobi Wine will be – and it is already happening – isolated from members of his inner circle, especially those who provide him with physical cover. They will be arrested, intimidated, or offered money to start businesses, a ploy to get them to abandon him. Some, like his driver Yasin Kawuma, who was buried a few weeks ago, will die.

It seems that Museveni plans to apply to Bobi Wine the script he has used on Besigye over the past two decades. Apart from being targeted for physical assaults, Bobi Wine will be – and it is already happening – isolated from members of his inner circle, especially those who provide him with physical cover.

Another thing the Museveni machine will do, and which it has done in the past, is plant fifth columnists around him – men and women who will show immense eagerness to work with Bobi Wine to remove Museveni from power but whose real assignment will be to get him to make mistakes and to spy on him.

It is also to be expected that Museveni will reach out to Bobi Wine with some kind of deal – he seems to offer all his credible opponents proposals for an amicable settlement so that they can drop their political ambitions. It is hard to say whether Museveni has already approached Bobi Wine or not, but there are rumours to that effect.

Ultimately, it will be up to Bobi Wine to decide what he wants to do going forward, but with him fighting for his life in hospital, we dare not predict the future.

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