Soft and tender personality Raila hid in the private closet

My mind swirled and my head reeled. Tears welled in my eyes as I listened to him. I looked at him repulsively as he spoke. Quietly, fury and rage were building up inside me. My chest heaved, and soon, my legs were shaking as I struggled to maintain calmness.

“I am really sorry you were summarily dismissed. I had no say in the matter. Mine was to sign the letter once the board approved your sacking” his words jumped out of his mouth, hitting me like a rock.

I was at the Nairobi Serena Hotel where I had gone to meet my former Journalism student who had baked for me a cake to commemorate one year of being fired from the National Social Security Fund (NSSF). I had worked at NSSF as Public Relations Manager for over five years and five months before being sacked on December 22 2009.

Just as I entered the Aksum restaurant, I saw the man who signed my sacking letter seated at my favourite spot. Alex Kazongo, who was my Managing Trustee when I left the retirement Fund, stood up to greet me. He asked me to join him. I placed my order and tried to make myself comfortable. He then started apologizing for my sacking.

Deep down I knew he was telling the truth. But just as the fury boiled inside me, someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was one of the aides of Prime Minister Raila Amollo Odinga.

“Bwana Atemi, Jaduong would like to talk to you” I turned round and there they were seated; Raila and Vice President Stephen Kalonzo Musyoka.

I walked over. The two leaders stood up, shook my hand and gave me a hug.

“Bwana Atemi, that man you are sitting with, is he not the same man who fired you from the NSSF?” asked Raila.

I shared details of my operations at the NSSF; my tribulations and fights with corruption cartels and the numerous attempts on my life. As we spoke, hot snacks and tea were served. For one hour, Raila keenly listened. He then called one of his aides and gave firm instructions:

“I know that man has been trying to see me. But after listening to the horror my friend endured at the NSSF, I don’t want to ever see him, either in my house or home”

Raila called one of his bodyguards and whispered something, then placed some money in my hand.

“Since you said you were to collect your sacking anniversary cake, please accept this small token to go celebrate properly” I thanked him as I placed the 100,000 shillings in my jacket pocket. Kalonzo too pulled out similar amount and handed it to me. I hugged the two leaders and returned to my seat.      

“I can see you are very close to the Prime Minister. I have been waiting for hours here hoping to meet him. Is there a way you can help me?” my former boss asked me.

“Sir, if I was still working with you, I would even have taken you to dinner at his Karen home” My former boss paid for my lunch bill then gave me some cash to enjoy ‘Christmas with my family’. 

Raila’s gesture had not only cooled my nerves and stopped me from committing a crime out of misplaced anger but also given me a reason to celebrate Christmas.

I met and interacted with Raila countess times as a senior reporter, bureau chief, news editor and biographer.

In the early 1990s, I would meet him over a drink as he sought my guidance on how to engage the media.

“Sir, you need to time your events and press conferences to fall on dry days when the newsrooms are thirsty for news. Sundays and Mondays, for instance, will ensure you get good space in the newspapers,” I told him.

Our friendship played out on the night of my wedding. I was startled by the sharp ringing of the bedside phone. I groped in the dark to pick it up and in a sleepy voice said; “Hallo”

When I heard the voice on the other end of the line, I quickly sat up, alert and attentive.

“Sorry for waking you up. I know you lovebirds are supposed to be doing what newly-weds do on such a night. I couldn’t attend your wedding but there is someone at your hotel room door with your present” said Raila. Before I could say ‘thank you’ he hung up.

Just then, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and there stood a man holding a package.

“This is from Hon Raila Odinga. It is your wedding gift,” the man said.

I thanked him and took the package. Raila and a few prominent men and women, including then Transport Minister Kenneth Matiba, Koome Mwambia of Kenya Airways and Njeri Luseno of Kenya Railways, had gifted me my honeymoon transport and money.

So, whenever I heard people say that Raila was a mean man who could not dip his hands in his pockets, I would smile quietly knowing that I had tasted his generosity many times. His detractors said that he had thuol, (a snake), in his pockets so he couldn’t give out money.

In 2009, the year my enemies engineered my sacking from NSSF, I organized the biggest gathering of sportsmen and women to educate them on the importance of saving for retirement. NSSF board members had tasked me with the job of getting a chief guest for the one week event at the Bogoria Spar. I had a choice between Raila and Kalonzo Musyoka.

When I approached Raila, he had gathered intelligence on the hostility I faced at the board. Some board members disliked the fact that I was Kalonzo’s official biographer.

“Let Kalonzo come, so that your enemies can boil and stew in their anger,” Raila told me. Kalonzo spent two days with us at the Spar to the chagrin of my enemies.     

Many knew Raila for his militancy. A man who led his army of followers from the front in street protests and battles. A man who never shied away from confrontations and controversies. However, the tall, dark giant had a soft side of him and a generous heart that defended loyalty and friendship.

David Dimba Jackobuya, who served as an insider of the Odingas for two decades, fondly remembers Raila as a leader who defended all.  

“Sometime in 1995, I organised demonstrations in Kisumu town to protest over some bad government policies. I was arrested. When Raila learnt about my plight, he took an evening flight to Kisumu to come secure my release,” Dimba told me.

He recalls that by the time Raila landed, he had managed to secure his own release.

“Mobile phones were rare those days but Raila had one. I entered a telephone booth along Kisumu’s Oginga Odinga Street and dialed his number. He picked up the call and told me he had just arrived in Kisumu and was driving along Oginga Odinga Street. I told him, I was also on the same street. He drove to the telephone booth and picked me up. He was glad I was free and he could now focus on other matters,” Dimba told me.

Few Kenyans knew that Baba had such a soft and loving character, displayed mostly in privacy.