Kenya is a tapestry of ethnic, racial, political, faith-based moral, and cultural rites and rights. It takes tolerance to manage this rainbow coalition.
These natural differences are the more reason the talk of 'madoadoa' is scary. It's the reason some politicians detest history.
History reminds them of mistakes of omission or commission against the national interest. They deny history, hoping victims of deception also have selective memories.
History determines how such people will behave in power. The 'them versus us' narrative is a nation-killer. The hustler narrative falls smugly into this divisive shortcut. So is the bitterness of 'we voted for their fathers, now they want us to vote for their children and kneel before them'.
The mendacity of class differences, amidst biological diversity, appeals to the gullible, while hiding contempt for their intellect. It creates a false paradise that falls sooner than later.
Good people, don't fall for the lies that precede elections. Preaching intolerance from a political podium is wrong. Victims know the pain of unmoderated ambition for power. Kenyans should not forget the political, or so-named tribal clashes of 1992 and 1997, when the Moi regime sought to impose its will.
Rift Valley, home to many ethnic interests, knows the tragedy of political competition without morality. Yet it's in cosmopolitan Uasin Gishu where politicians are inciting the masses.
It's also the county that carries scars of the 2007-08 post-election violence. The scarred are still mourning. Their losses are still fresh.
The stalled Building Bridges Initiative sought to mitigate the devastations of high-stake electoral contests. Yet this is the political intervention that forces of reaction deny.
People who don't learn, can't learn, from history are damned to repeat its mistakes, with tragic consequences. Peter Mbuthia tells the history of the 2007 post-election violence in Scars of A Nation.
The book recounts the experiences of survivors of the Kiambaa Church massacre and the elusive quest for justice. It was in Eldoret town, a few kilometres from Kiambaa, where a politician warned 'madoadoa' of dire consequences for expressing their democratic rights.
The 2007 post-election violence, especially the Kiambaa massacre, should warn those contemplating travelling the genocidal path.
The declaration of disputed presidential election results on December 30, 2007, triggered widespread violence. The peak was January 1, 2008. Tribal warriors were unloosed on supporters of the presidential candidate, who was declared the winner.
They burnt down the Kenya Assemblies of God Church, killing women, children and old people who sought asylum in the holy shrine. They had been warned of an imminent attack on Eldoret's Kiambaa village.
Seventeen people were burnt alive inside the church. Eighteen others were shot with arrows, hacked with machetes and killed outside the church.
The United Nations, the United States and the African Union intervened to stop the genocidal violence. The subsequent mediation created a coalition government of clashing political interests.
Well-organised and financed tribal militias committed crimes against humanity. The International Criminal Court indicted six people, among them President Uhuru Kenyatta and Deputy President William Ruto.
A survivor of the Kiambaa massacre, Anthony Mbuthia, then 10, asks, "Dad, why did they burn the church? I thought the church is a sacred place?" He was in pain, recovering in a hospital.
Scars of A Nation is a witness account of what happened during and after the violence. It also recounts a father's effort to seek justice for his son at the ICC. It's a larger cry for justice for victims of the 2007-08 PEV.
Kenya, too, is crying for justice – fairness. No more two-tribe dominance of state power, which coalitions seek to discount. President Uhuru Kenyatta recognises this as key to a new beginning.
