Raila Odinga’s name is synonymous with the fight for liberation, and several failed stabs at the presidency. For these, and many more reasons, the second-born son of Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, independent Kenya’s first Vice President, is loved and hated in equal measure. It was the late Vice President, Wamalwa Kijana, who once said that those who hated Raila did so with passion. Likewise, those who loved Raila were prepared to die for him. So, Raila is, indeed, an enigma. Raila’s public life is akin to the proverbial elephant that was experienced by six blind men. Each of the men attempted to describe the elephant depending on the parts of the gigantic animal that they touched. At the end of the day, none of the blind men had a holistic impression of the entire elephant. In Kenya’s political context, Raila Amolo Odinga is that elephant. The former Prime Minister has captured the imagination of Kenyans for several decades, yet nobody seems to truly capture the holistic nature of this enigma. First, Kenyans across the length and breadth of the country love to have him around. They truly cherish listening to him. But, for some strange reason, the very people who view him as their saviour from the excesses of the executive, do not want to make him their President. On several occasions, he has lost the presidency with a whisker. Pundits opine that there have been instances when his win was grabbed from him by the barrel of the gun. The most obvious one was the 2007 presidential poll which insiders intimate President Kibaki lost by a sizable margin. Most Kenyans too agreed that Raila won that election, especially when they realized that the results that were announced at the national tallying centre in Nairobi in favour of President Kibaki were significantly higher than the actual votes at the polling stations where they voted. For that reason, Kenyans from across the country voluntarily went to the streets to demand electoral justice. The rest is now history.

Let us take a look at the sacrifices that Raila has made on behalf of Kenyans, and how the same people have paid him back. In the late 1980s up till the early 1990s, the maverick Raila, together with a group of “Young Turks”, including James Orengo, Paul Muite, Gitobu Imanyara, Joe Ager, Mukhisa Kituyi, Kiraitu Murungi, and others, fervently opposed President Daniel Moi’s increasingly draconian KANU regime. Moi responded by jailing and detaining the critics without trial. Raila endured nine years of detention without trial and a long period of self-imposed exile in Europe. Back home, his wife, Idda, was sacked from her post as a high school teacher at the Kenya High School. Raila’s efforts bore fruits when in December 1991, President Moi acceded to the repeal of Section 2A of the constitution, thus ushering in a new constitutional dispensation that allowed for multiparty democracy and expanded political space. Many leaders who could not dare stand up to Moi’s repressive regime now had a field day, creating political parties left, right and centre, courtesy of Raila’s sacrifices. Raila’s struggles for a better Kenya never ended despite harassment from security agencies, thus making him the symbol of Kenya’s “Second Liberation.” In 2002, Raila suspended his political ambition and put his weight behind Mwai Kibaki’s presidential bid. Matters got thicker for Raila when Kibaki was involved in a near-fatal road accident on his way from a political event in Machakos. The presidential candidate was flown to the United Kingdom for specialized treatment. As the most charismatic politician with a national appeal then, Raila took the mantle of coordinating Mwai Kibaki’s presidential campaigns while the candidate recuperated in London. Raila electrified the campaign trails, leaving in his wake exuberant voters who were rearing to go. When the polling day came, Mwai Kibaki romped home with a clear win over his closest rival, Uhuru Kenyatta. Yet, when President Kibaki invited Raila to serve as the Vice President, he turned it down, instead giving way to Wamalwa Kijana. This act of selflessness confirmed that Raila was not in the struggle for personal gains, but rather to liberate Kenyans from the yoke of the KANU dictatorship. Raila holds the record of the person who has made the highest number of unsuccessful stabs at the presidency (1997, 2007, 2013, 2017 and 2022). Asked why he continues to gun for the presidency despite the unfortunate results, Raila insists that his commitment is to see a better, freer and more democratic Kenya where citizens are protected by constitutional safeguards. That summarizes his commitment to better governance that culminated in a new constitutional dispensation in 2010. In the August 2022 presidential poll, Raila lost narrowly to his rival, President William Ruto. Pundits agree that it was the Mount Kenya region that tilted the vote in favour of President Ruto. It is now emerging that the excitement that the region’s voters manifested towards Ruto was not so much because they loved him, but rather due to their disdain of Raila. Opinion is still divided as to whether Ruto would have received the same number of votes from the Mount Kenya region had Raila not been in the presidential ballot. That is now water under the bridge. The recent impeachment of the Deputy President, Rigathi Gachagua, brought to the fore the fluidity of the relationship between the region and President Ruto. It is now clear that the people of Mount Kenya supported President Ruto only on the condition that their own son, Rigathi Gachagua, would eventually succeed him as the head of state. This confirms the earlier speculation that the region did not love President Ruto as much as they relished the possibility of regaining the presidency that they have so far held for a whopping thirty-five years since Kenya’s independence in 1963. The region therefore, made a conscious decision to vote for William Ruto to punish Raila whom they believed would not be malleable for their long-term political strategy. The region made it publicly known that they hated Raila, and would not vote for him whatever the circumstances. But now that Rigathi Gachagua has been impeached, and the region’s hopes of clinching the presidency through him have dissipated, President Ruto has become an object of hate within the region. The intention is to isolate the President so that he becomes vulnerable to the forces that intend to remove him from the presidency. There has been behind-the-scenes lobbying to sway Raila to support the isolation of President Ruto from the rest of Kenyans. Once it became apparent that Raila was not keen on that scheme, he too became a target of unwarranted attacks and slander. Following Raila’s public declaration that he was on the side of President Ruto in the matter of Gen-Z uprisings, the Mount Kenya region felt embarrassed and jilted by the man they hoped to misuse as a doormat to help them launder their political mess. It is very difficult to be a Raila. People hate you with passion, but when their hatred backfires, they try to blame you for it! It is immoral to publicly demonstrate hatred towards a person, yet still expect him to support your selfish political moves. When in 2003, Raila mobilized his supporters to demonstrate against the high cost of living, the Mount Kenya region blackmailed him for using goons to destroy their businesses. After listening to the feedback from Kenyans, Raila called off the demonstrations and instead opted for negotiations with the government. In June this year, the Gen-Zs poured onto the streets of Nairobi and other major cities and towns to demonstrate against the very things that Raila’s supporters had been complaining about. The Gen-Zs and their backers must have expected Raila to support their course. Raila had other ideas. The opposition leader was very categorical that Kenyans had asked for broad-based negotiations rather than violent street demonstrations. He, therefore, flatly rejected the Gen-Zs’ demand for President Ruto and his government to vacate office. Suddenly, the Mount Kenya region turned their heat on Raila for being a traitor. 

Raila has recently joined the race for the African Union Commission (AUC) Chairman which falls vacant when the current office holder, Moussa Faki, retires in February 2025. Again, some Kenyans are all over the place claiming that Raila is not qualified for that position. The said naysayers have been sponsoring propaganda to malign Raila’s integrity throughout the continent. They started by falsely claiming that Raila did not hold any recognized academic qualifications. But the moment Otton Von Guerricke Universitat, Raila’s German Alma Mater, confirmed that he was a bona fide holder of a Dipl-Ing (Master of Science) in Mechanical Engineering, the story shifted to politics. The story that is now going around is that Raila is still too deeply involved in Kenya’s local politics, and should, therefore, not be entrusted with a continental position. Ordinarily in global politics and diplomacy, once a country supports its candidate for a regional or international position, all the citizens should support him or her. Kenya has broken this cardinal diplomatic practice by parading its dirty linen in the continental arena. 

For several decades, Raila has been the to-go-to “Mr Fix It” for all Kenya’s political problems. Yet, Kenyans do not want to make him their President so that he can gain executive powers to fix the issues from the top. Whenever he takes up his role as the opposition leader, the same Kenyans claim that he is disturbing their peace. Whenever he steps aside to let Kenyans manage their affairs without his interference, the same Kenyans claim that Raila has abandoned them. The question is: what exactly do Kenyans want Raila to do?

Copyright ©️ Vincent Ongore 2024

Vincent Ongore

Moi University was launched in 1984 with pomp and high expectations as the second university in Kenya. Until then, Kenya had only one university, the University of Nairobi. As the country’s population grew exponentially, there was a need to expand opportunities for university education to accommodate the thousands of students leaving high school every year. Another milestone at the time was the transformation of Kenya’s education landscape from the 7-4-2-3 (A-Level) system, inherited from the British colonial regime, to the 8-4-4 curriculum, which was billed as being more practical-oriented and relevant to the specific needs of a young society like Kenya.

It was envisaged that the 8-4-4 system of education, besides conferring employable skills on learners, would facilitate more students joining university than the 7-4-2-3 system, which took longer to release learners to college. Besides, the world was beginning to wake up to the realities of climate change and its effects on the environment and livelihoods. Countries were, therefore, in a rat race to create technical capacity in the areas of environment, forestry and climatology, to try to mitigate the negative consequences of this new phenomenon. The creation of a science-based university was, therefore, not only critical but urgent.

President Moi appointed Professor Douglas Odhiambo, a reputable scientist and scholar, to lead a committee formed to consider the viability of a second university to not only offload pressure from the University of Nairobi but also provide new thinking and research required to reverse the climate calamity that had been so accurately identified. The Professor Odhiambo-led committee proposed the creation of Moi University to offer courses in forestry, environment and natural sciences. The university admitted its first cohort of undergraduate students in 1985.

Moi University, therefore, holds a very special place in the country’s efforts to utilise scientific research in the fight against the adverse effects of climate change. It is an institution that has, for many years, captured the hearts and minds of the Kenyan scientific community and citizens. The role of Moi University, as originally constituted, would have been more pronounced at this time when Kenya is at the forefront of marshalling global efforts to curtail global warming and other consequences of irresponsible actions on the environment.

It is a painful twist of fate that, at this critical juncture when Kenya and Africa direly need local institutions to provide home-grown solutions to climate adversities, Moi University is collapsing due to mismanagement and lack of foresight! When the university was presented with an opportunity to sustain its growth trajectory that had been the hallmark of previous administrations, it opened its gates to local politicians and community leaders to mess it up. Typically, politicians are only interested in their survival, and if meddling in the affairs of a local institution can ensure their re-election, so be it. They will do it over and over again as long as the voters approve of their actions, however dastardly.

In any case, most of the leaders who mobilised their constituents to storm Moi University had hardly benefitted from university education beyond the undergraduate level. So, they did not quite understand how universities operated. All the same, they went in with impunity and gusto, and their only objective was to stop Professor Laban Ayiro from taking over as a substantive Vice-Chancellor of Moi University. They succeeded in doing exactly what they intended, and the result is the shell that Moi University has turned out to be—a pale shadow of its former robust self.

The eyesore that Moi University has become is the clearest indication yet of why meritocracy must never be sacrificed at the altar of ethnicity. In Professor Laban Ayiro, the interviewers only saw a man of Luhya extraction but deliberately overlooked his time-tested managerial adeptness that had steadied the Moi University ship during the period he had served as the Vice-Chancellor in an acting capacity.

Today, we are back to the drawing board, saddled with the aftermath of irrational decisions by politicians, community leaders and their sidekicks. The interviewers deliberately underscored the best candidate and propped up a managerial midget who has now proven beyond any reasonable doubt to be grossly incompetent, and that his appointment was a mistake in the first place. Many public universities in Kenya are struggling for various reasons, including managerial ineptitude, corruption, lack of innovation and poor capitation. For Moi University, it is well known where the rain started beating it.

Meanwhile, the stone that Moi University builders rejected has become the cornerstone of Daystar University. The Ngong Road-based institution has consistently recorded stellar performances ever since the arrival of Professor Ayiro, bringing to mind the old adage that if wishes were horses, everyone (including Moi University) would ride one. Unfortunately for the gatekeepers at the Eldoret-based university, they can only cry and lament over the spilt “mursik”, a form of fermented milk, which is a delicacy in the region.

I now agree with my lower primary school teacher of English who never missed an opportunity to remind us that “experience is the best teacher.” I am sure the ethnic bigots of Moi University are now better taught through experience. Where they thought the family name was all that mattered, it now turns out that effective management of an institution of the stature of Moi University requires a lot more. I believe it is a lesson that is now firmly riveted in the minds of ethnic lords who have no qualms about extending their imaginary authority into public institutions.

This sort of spectacle, where communities develop a sense of entitlement to the management of government institutions domiciled in their regions, has a not-very-pleasant history to it. First, a lot of government institutions in Kenya, including universities, have been created out of political expediency. Community leaders would typically visit the State House, the seat of power, and request the President to give them a university so that “our people can also access education and become learned like the other communities.” The President would then say “I have listened to your request for a university; the government will look into the matter with a view to establishing one in your region once the community donates land.”

Such interactions were very common during the Moi era. So, it was actually the government that created an impression that institutions were established expressly to benefit the local communities. With such a signal coming from the highest office in the land, it was very difficult to disabuse the local communities of the notion and belief that such institutions belonged to them and that they had every right to decide on and control their leadership, management and operations. Examples abound of universities that were created out of such ethnic considerations. Pwani University, Masinde Muliro University, Kisii University, Chuka University, and Taita Taveta University, among others, are typical examples that easily come to mind. The manner of their establishment conferred a sense of ethnic entitlement ab initio.

Besides the universities, many other institutions have also carried similar baggage. The regional development authorities, such as the Lake Basin Development Authority, Kand erio Valley Development Authority, among others, have a strong sense of ethnic identity. The Kenya Ports Authority is another example of a state corporation that has, over the years, struggled in vain to shed off its tag of a coastal Kenya outfit.

The government has not made things any better for these institutions by its tradition of preferring locals for appointment to leadership positions in the organisations. It will be remembered that the coastal communities once presented a petition to President Moi to appoint one of their own as a Managing Director of Kenya Ports Authority (KPA). Being the populist politician that he was, the President acceded to the request and ensured that at any one time during his reign, there was always a local at KPA either as the Chairman of the Board of Directors or Managing Director. Similarly, President Moi established a tradition of ensuring that, at any one point, the Chairpersons of the Board of Directors or Managing Directors of the regional authorities were locals.

This tradition has endured to date. Although such a move may temporarily pacify the local communities and help the leadership achieve its short-term political objectives, it has its serious flaws in the long run. First, it creates a false sense of ownership of state corporations by locals, and consequent resentment towards “outsiders” who are appointed to leadership positions. The extreme manifestation of this entitlement occurs whenever locals eject unwanted “foreigners” from leadership positions, either overtly or through any other pretext, as was the case with Moi University. This often happens with the connivance of the government, which chooses to either look away or encourage it through local politicians who act with abundant impunity.

The example of Moi University should suffice here, where, in the words of Professor Ayiro, he “scored at 44 per cent in management despite the fact that he had stewarded the institution to unprecedented performance as its acting Vice-Chancellor for more than one year.” The preferred local candidate scored at 97 percent on the same parameter, despite the lack of evidence of his previous exposure in a similar role!

Second, the institutions are denied the best available talents that could spur them to higher levels of achievement and growth. Whenever “foreigners” are employed against all odds, they do not receive the requisite support to help them excel in their work. Consequently, such unwanted managers are set up to fail in order to lend credence to the twisted argument that they do not understand the key contextual factors that drive performance in such institutions.

It is no wonder, therefore, that most state corporations routinely deliver sub-optimal returns to Kenyans who are the key stakeholders in them. The state corporations in Kenya were created to provide public services in highly specialised sectors that were considered too sensitive to be entrusted to private entrepreneurs with profit motives. The overriding objective was, therefore, to ensure enhanced citizen welfare through the provision of high-quality services at reasonable prices. With the government’s penchant for appointing and deploying people with inept managerial capacity to run state corporations, this noble objective of high-quality service delivery to citizens is grossly undermined.

To reverse the free fall of state corporations, the government needs to take a keen look at its policy on appointments to these institutions and also create the necessary conducive environment to facilitate superior performance. Appointments to state corporations should be done in an open, transparent and competitive manner. Besides, a robust framework for community engagement should be developed to create harmony between the institutions and their external environment. There is no room in the modern world for beating drums of war and invoking ethnic nationalism in the appointment of corporate leaders. Anybody who is still in doubt is advised to use the example of Moi University as a contemporary case study on how not to appoint leaders for state corporations.

Professor Ongore teaches at the Technical University of Kenya

vincent.ongore@tukenya.ac.ke

Vincent Ongore

Time flies. One moment, you are vibrant and full of energy; the next, you are but a shadow of your former self—and then, you are gone. It feels like only yesterday, in August 1990, during our graduation ceremony, that Oloo Aringo, then the Cabinet Minister for Education, left us in stitches with his linguistic flamboyance.

The occasion was a pivotal moment for the 8-4-4 education system, which was in its advanced stages of implementation. President Daniel Arap Moi, the chief guest and “Teacher Number One,” as Aringo referred to him, basked in the glory of his envisioned educational reforms. With his characteristic “Nyayo Rungu” in hand and polished shoes tapping on the red carpet, Moi beamed as Aringo eloquently expounded on the benefits of the 8-4-4 system.

“Your Excellency, sir, your presence amidst us today at this graduation ceremony is a clear manifestation of the love you have for the youth of this nation and your dedication to the 8-4-4 system of education, which is purely your brainchild,” Aringo declared with poetic charm, drawing applause from the audience.

Aringo was a wordsmith and a visionary, known for his unwavering commitment to any cause he championed. Whether in legislative debates, party duties, or mobilising his constituents, his focus was unmatched. Yet, despite his many accomplishments, he often found himself misunderstood, particularly during his tenure in the Kenya African National Union (KANU).

Sadly, the curtains have fallen on Peter Castro Oloo Aringo. At 83, he passed away at Aga Khan University Hospital in Nairobi while undergoing treatment. As his body rests in a cold room, awaiting burial at his Kakan home in Alego Usonga, Siaya County, Kenya mourns one of its most illustrious sons.

Aringo’s legacy, however, is complex. He served as the KANU National Chairman during the height of the party’s dominance when Kenya was a de jure one-party state. This was a time when political dissent was crushed, and loyalty to President Moi was a prerequisite for survival in public life.

Aringo’s role as KANU Chairman at a time of widespread agitation for multiparty democracy made him a target of criticism. Some unfairly labelled him as complicit in KANU’s authoritarianism, associating him with Moi’s regime. However, as history reveals, the real architects of that era’s most oppressive policies operated within Moi’s inner circle, a group Aringo was not part of.

Indeed, Aringo was much more than a party loyalist. His contributions to Kenya’s education and legislative landscape were monumental. As Minister for Education, he oversaw the rollout of the 8-4-4 system and championed the establishment of institutions such as Moi University, Kenyatta University, Egerton University, and Maseno University. He also spearheaded the creation of technical institutes in all eight provinces, laying the groundwork for what is now an integral part of Kenya’s Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) sector.

In the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, Aringo promoted the use of vernacular languages on national radio and television, fostering community-level development discussions. As Environment Minister, he established the National Environmental Management Authority (NEMA), a cornerstone of Kenya’s environmental policy.

Aringo’s legislative achievements were equally impactful. He introduced bills to create the Parliamentary Service Commission and the Parliamentary Budget Office, empowering the Legislature to operate independently of the Executive. His Affirmative Action Motion advanced constitutional safeguards against presidential overreach, including provisions for impeachment in cases of gross misconduct.

Aringo’s courage extended beyond policy. After the assassination of Foreign Minister Robert Ouko, Aringo was the only Cabinet member to publicly question the government’s role. This act of defiance led to his eventual resignation from the Cabinet and marked him as a man unafraid to stand by his principles.

Upon retiring from politics, Aringo continued to contribute as a consultant on parliamentary processes across Africa. His passion for empowering citizens through constitutional reforms remained undimmed, reflecting his lifelong dedication to public service.

Aringo’s dalliance with KANU and Moi was a matter of circumstance, not ideology, and should not overshadow his immense contributions to Kenya’s development. His legacy as an educator, legislator, and reformer will endure long after his passing.

Peter Castro Oloo Aringo leaves behind two widows, several children, and an indelible mark on Kenya’s history.

Go thee well, Peter Castro Oloo Aringo.

Professor Ongore teaches at the Technical University of Kenya
vincent.ongore@tukenya.ac.ke