The Mbarire moment sparking fear of a mellowed Ruto

At a presidential campaign rally in Kabarnet in 2013, Coalition for Restoration of Democracy (CORD) flagbearer Raila Odinga was faced with a hostile crowd. The entire gathering in the stadium yelled at him as some shouted unprintable expletives at him.

I was still ODM’s political affairs director and so I approached him and asked him that, before he rose to speak, he must decide to express his happiness at how the masses had gathered and were enjoying their democratic right. That his many years of struggle and serving years in prison had given the country freedom of speech and other freedoms. The trick was to prick their conscience.

And so when he rose amidst a charged crowd, he said: “Angalia! Mimi ni Prime Minister na hawa polisi ni wangu na mnanitusi tu.

He added, “My stay in prison was worth it. Kama ingekuwa hapo zamani, mngekua mnakimbia hapa kama swara.

That was expected from just about all presidents in Africa. No one dared engage them in a public spat. 

This brings me to Governor Cecily Mbarire’s last week's public criticism of President William Ruto and the subsequent exchange between them, which was captured on national television. It happened before an elite audience that represents a new peak in democratic practice. 

Dr Ruto was at first surprised when he saw Mbarire’s hand, but as my people say, “embwa ekhasi yaula esecha” (A female dog will always have its way over the male one).

Ruto invited her to give Kenyans this dramatic experience. Unfortunately,  the President had not risen to the occasion by acknowledging an omission in the report, the issue of gender. It would have been a classic historical event if he had said:

“Cecily, I agree with you and I am sorry. Let’s deal with that.”

Instead, the President sprang and engaged the gear we all know. He found a way out, which seemed to whet Mbarire’s appetite for war.

Similar events happened in the 1960s after independence. At a public rally in Central Kenya, Kenyatta took to the podium and started mocking Bildad Kaggia, saying:

“We were with Paul Ngei in prison. Now he has so much wealth. Kaggia, what do you have for yourself? We were with Kung’u Karumba. Now he has his own stuff... Kaggia, what do you have for yourself?”. 

Much later, when he was old and nearing the end of his life, Kaggia told me at his Kandara posho mill in 1996 in the presence of Ntai wa Nkuraru that after Kenyatta finished his speech, he walked towards him. He was trying out a “Cecily Mbarire show”.

Kaggia asked him: “Give me a chance to respond to your questions”. To which Kenyatta replied, “Go and organise your own meeting.”

The price he paid for this attempt to dialogue with a president was high.

First, when he went to open a Kenya People’s Union opposition party office in Thika later in the year, Jomo dispatched the General Service Unit of the police, who beat him unconscious.

It did not end there.

Kaggia was later arrested for allegedly holding an unlicensed meeting in Homa Bay and got jailed for 18 months.

The next heated exchange with a president took place in 1969. It was between Jaramogi Oginga Odinga and Jomo Kenyatta in Kisumu. The opening of Kisumu’s new hospital, then called Russia Hospital, turned out to be a fiasco.

At a rally, Jomo kept insulting members of the recently launched Kenya People’s Union, calling them dirty. At some stage, Jaramogi stood up and responded directly, telling Jomo that his “people were hungry.”

Kenyatta responded to these live verbal challenges from behind the microphone. This was yet another live dialogue, with the masses tuning in live. It got nasty after Odinga fanatics in the crowd hurled stones at the presidential dias. The Presidential guard opened fire, leading to riots where many were killed. 

The last incident happened in Busia in 1992. President Daniel Arap Moi held a rally in Busia town to drum up support for his presidential bid for the first multiparty election in the country.

As Moi drove out of the stadium, acknowledging cheers, I ran close to his car with my two-finger salute, shouting Ford! Ford! Moi looked directly at me for a while. Another ardent Ford fan ecstatically replayed my behaviour with his two-finger salute up in the air.

Five men got out of a Mercedes-Benz that was in the entourage and floored my “political ally.” They gave him random beatings; you would think they were beating up a stray dog. We had to get a wheelbarrow to take him to the district hospital for treatment. I was later told that he succumbed to the injuries. 

Interjections during a president’s dialogue that seemed to negate the views of the Head of State were once life-threatening in Kenya, unlike today, when a Kenyan of whatever rank can do it at State House. 

Kenyans who hold contrary views to those of the President, like Mbarire, today enjoy the atmosphere of tolerance without realising that the building blocks of this freedom stretch from days when they were not even born. Most take these gains for granted, without acknowledging that many have suffered and some have died for creating the historical moment they enjoy today.

One may argue that Ruto today is slightly mellow compared to the combative individual who took power in 2022. His demeanour then was imperial. He was a bully growing in stature with the passage of time. The Ruto of that time would never have allowed Mbarire’s interjection.

I cannot rule out punishment if anyone did what she did recently. Ruto’s imperial mentality is what informed the substance of the dreaded 2024 Finance Bill that changed the history of resistance to oppression. That was a mad Bill from a set of mad heads comparable to Jomo in his time. There would never have been a “Mbarire Show” under the Ruto of 2023. 

The same way the 1982 coup attempt changed Moi from a nice guy to a forceful, exacting president, so did the GenZ protest change Ruto. He had been a “Mr know it all” head, but today he hides his steel hands in a soft glove.

The current Ruto knows that people can fight back. This Ruto is more cautious than the one who oversaw the crackdown on the Gen Z revolt after the protests.

The current Ruto throws tear gas in churches and rallies and gives the majority a chance to live and fight again. 

Governor Mbarire! The Ruto who gave you a chance to speak is not the one you voted for in 2022.

This one is an invention of the Gen Z push after he decided to play the game of manipulation, thereby becoming more difficult to manage.