During his last local appearance on a TV breakfast show late in January, the self-styled National Resistance Movement general Miguna Miguna, declared: "There would be no dialogue until Raila Odinga is sworn-in as the People's President. Dialogue will only happen between two presidents."
The January 30 swearing-in needed courage, and the general had it. But when the two presidents agreed to dialogue 'for the sake of the country', Miguna changed tune.
Speaking from Dallas, US, last week, he ranted: "Schupid. Plain stupid. You cannot win an election, refuse to concede, hold demonstrations. Have 380 of your supporters murdered in cold blood. Did you just discover he is your brother?"
Double M was referring to the People's President Raila's meeting President Uhuru Kenyatta. The initiative leaves Miguna holding the wrong end of the stick. He is personalising the struggle: “My house has not been repaired, and my lawyers have not been paid,” he lamented.
The boisterous barrister, like a carpenter, considers everything and everyone, a nail to be hit. He suspects everyone of treachery. Disdain for the 'unlearned' comes easily to him. A man of first class intellect, David Ndii, who was Miguna's contemporary at the University of Nairobi is fair game for ridicule. Norman Magaya, the NASA CEO, is also a victim of Double M's insults. He considers the two NASA strategists as 'Jubilee moles'.
His competitors for Nairobi governor Evans Kidero, Peter Kenneth, Esther Passaris, and Mike Sonko got generous tongue-lashing, with choice adjectives. One was a ‘bimbo'. All were intellectual pigmies, and thieves, who made their money from illicit trade.
The despotic Moi regime forced the former UoN student leader to exile in Canada in 1987. The regime was hunting for radicalised, Karl Marx-quoting student leaders.
The 'despotic duo' who rigged the August 8 presidential election offended Double M. The people who presided over the sham fresh presidential election on October 26 offended him, like they did to millions of other Kenyans.
The defilers of democracy ordered Double M's arrest. Their agents vandalized his house in Runda Meadows. They detained him illegally and incommunicado for five days. They defied court orders. They defiled his birthright.
They did not care whether the usually well-dressed solicitor was in a shape to board a KLM flight to Toronto via Amsterdam. These experiences were packed in one week of delirium and melodrama.
Miguna fills television screens, literally, while peering piercingly, from above the rims of his spectacles. The small giant needs a magnifying class to confirm whether members of the panel are worth his time. Shall we then say, like the playwright Francis Imbuga in Betrayal in the City, that when the madness of an entire country disturbs one self-declared general, it is unfair to consider the person insane?
Miguna is a child of his past. He finds it hard working in a team — to trust people, and even harder to tolerate people. To be decorous, or cautious, is cowardly for Double M. But he is in good company of querulous characters such as Gatundu South MP Moses Kuria, Suba South MP John Mbadi, Kiambu Governor Ferdinand Waititu, and Embakasi East MP Babu Owino.
Psychologists tell us that people who were deprived, as children, are usually abrasive. That people, who missed the normal breast-feeding period of at least two years, tend to be aggressive and abusive. They are compensating for missed maternal attention. They tend to blame others for their deprivation.
To be fair, Double M deserves compensation, an unconditional return ticket, and accommodation in the presidential suite at Villa Rosa Kempinski or Hotel Inter-Continental, as his Runda Meadows residence is being repaired on State’s account.
To paraphrase Double M during the launch of his book, Peeling the Mask, patriotic Kenyans should say, “Come back, Baby come, Kenya is your birthright.”