On the 13th anniversary of the passing of Makueni’s first senator, Mutula Kilonzo, his daughter Kethi shared a moving message on social media:
“Dad, 13 years on, the Mutula Kilonzo star shines undimmed. You live within your children and grandchildren. I wish you were here to witness as I finished my ACCA qualification in style.”
The ACCA (Association of Chartered Certified Accountants) is a rigorous pursuit; passing its exams requires more than just brains—it demands technical proficiency, sharp exam techniques and unwavering dedication.
Kethi, a true chip off the old block, aced them in spectacular fashion. She emerged as the top student in Advanced Financial Management in Kenya and ranked 20th globally.
Her achievement confirms that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Back in 1974, her father graduated at the top of his class at the University of Dar es Salaam, the first student in East Africa to graduate with a First-Class Honours degree in Law.
He repeated this feat at the Kenya School of Law (KSL), topping his class in the bar exams. Today, the main lecture hall at KSL, used for prestigious academic symposiums and ceremonies, bears his name.
But Mutula was more than an academic "egghead". He was a thoroughbred legal professional who rose to the apex of profession, community and political life. A former chairman of the Law Society of Kenya, he was twice offered a direct ticket to Parliament. He preferred to operate in the shadows of the political arena.
In the third attempt, the “legal engineer” was outmanoeuvred by his political benefactors. Without his prior consent, he was nominated to Parliament during one of the most defining eras in Kenya's history.
He lent his formidable intellect to the defence of Kanu, but also began "walking in the valley of the shadow of death". Few politicians received as many death threats as Mutula at the time.
In December 2004, he received a parcel containing a mysterious powdery substance, just months after his brother had opened a similar package and was inexplicably afflicted.
As Mutula rose higher serving in the ministries of Nairobi Metropolitan, Justice and Constitutional Affairs, and later Education, the threats peaked.
“In the Ministry of Justice, I used to get threats almost three days a week. In Education, I have only had one... In Justice, it was on a regular basis. It is an incredible ministry,” he confessed a few months before his death.
Tragically, except for one case involving a domestic worker, none of these threats progressed beyond a police desk. In that singular case, Mutula chose grace over retribution, opting to forgive and reconcile with the convict rather than see her jailed.
Until his final week, Mutula believed he was a hunted man. The night before he left for his ranch, he protested his wife’s proposal to fumigate their Nairobi home, fearing his life was in immediate danger.
He was found dead the following morning, April 27, 2013. The scene was harrowing: foam at the mouth and blood oozing from his nose.
To the disappointment of the country's gossip mills, there was neither evidence of sexual performance-enhancing drugs in the room nor a woman.
The white, uneven pellets, initially rumoured to be Viagra, were analysed and found to contain ephedrine—a substance also found in Mutula’s vital organs. It was not known in the local market and nobody appears to have known who prescribed them to him.
The mystery did not end there. Samples taken from his body for toxicology tests in the UK arrived unsealed and tampered with. Consequently, the private pathologist refused to process them, stalling the search for the truth.
While an inquest eventually reached its own conclusions, the clinical “closure” feels hollow. It is a national shame that such an outspoken man of his rank—Elder of the Order of the Burning Spear (EBS), Elder of the Order of the Golden Heart (EGH) and Senior Counsel (SC)—should rest with so many questions left unanswered.
This is why 13 years later, the tears still flow, not just for the loss of a titan, but for the justice that remains chillingly out of reach.
Musau, an Advocate of the High Court, is a Senior Project Manager with the Friedrich Naumann Foundation. The views expressed here are his own.
