I once read that the key to predicting political trends is to constantly bear this axiom in mind: History plays strange games.
Let me illustrate just how true this is with a Kenyan example: at the dawn of independence, most of the ethnic Somalis who lived in Northern Kenya, if given a free choice, would most likely have preferred that the national borders be redrawn to place their region within the Republic of Somalia.
North Eastern Kenya was known during colonial times as the Northern Frontier District, and was a restricted area. As a result, relatively few of those indigenous to this region had interacted much with 'the rest of Kenya' and likewise, few Kenyans from other regions had travelled to Northern Kenya.
It was only natural then that the ethnic Somalis of Northern Kenya would feel more affinity for the Mogadishu-based government of the Republic of Somalia, which was led by people with whom they shared a language and a culture. There was in fact an attempt at secession by Northern Kenya, but it was brutally crushed by the Nairobi government. And thereafter, Northern Kenya was even more marginalised than before. Not a single transformational 'development project' was earmarked for that region for the next decade.
And in a Cabinet of about 20, the founding president, Jomo Kenyatta, did not have a single ethnic Somali minister; in stark contrast, his own Kiambu district had no less than five members of the Cabinet, if you include Kenyatta himself and Attorney General Charles Njonjo. Nor was there any ethnic Somali representation in the large state-owned corporations or in the upper reaches of the official bureaucracy.
Meantime, other ethnic groups recognised as 'big tribes' like the Luo and the Luhyia, rarely had less than three Cabinet ministers, and plenty of other top government organs also had plenty of senior officers from these big tribes.
One could reasonably ask: Does it really matter who serves in the Cabinet, and from what region they hail?
Well, anyone asking that question does not know how the Kenyan government works in practice – as opposed to in theory.
Having 'one of our own' (as we Kenyans love to say) in the Cabinet, is usually the difference between being well-served by any Kenyan administration, and being completely neglected. For it is only after budgets have been read and funds allocated, that the real work of 'sharing the national cake' properly begins. And at that point, having a 'representative' in the Cabinet is really very important.
Take a minister (or, at present, cabinet secretary) for Foreign Affairs, for example. In theory, such a minister has no control over 'development funds'. All that he (or she) has is money for staff salaries, overseas travel, training and conferences. In theory, the Cabinet Secretary for Foreign Affairs has no say over who gets water and electricity supplied to remote and inhospitable areas.
In practice though, it is obvious that if a Cabinet Secretary for Foreign Affairs (or for Agriculture, for that matter) walks up to the Cabinet Secretary for Infrastructure after a Cabinet meeting in State House, and makes a personal request—from one colleague to another—this likely to have far more impact than even a large delegation of villagers from a drought-stricken zone.
In short, denying the people of North-Eastern Kenya some kind of representation in the Cabinet was a particularly cruel form of marginalisation. It left them without a voice in the corridors of power.
But, as I said, history plays strange games.
Back in the 1960s, who could possibly have guessed that the Republic of Somalia would in due course fall apart, and remain a failed state for decades? And who would have guessed that far from Kenyan Somalis wishing to be allowed to secede and join the Somali Republic, it is citizens of the Somali Republic who—despairing of their republic—would set out to acquire Kenyan citizenship, by hook or by crook?
And who would have guessed that in 2013, it is now some of the ‘big tribes' whose leaders complain bitterly of having insignificant Cabinet representation (the Luo and the Luhyia each have only one 'Cabinet representative')? Or that the communities of Northern Kenya would be far ahead with no less than three Cabinet members, giving them – at long last – the kind of access to the higher circles of government where 'the national cake' is divided?
As noted before, history plays strange games.