Africa’s vice president at an international Christian organisation that I worked for, requested me to use my ‘connections’ and reach out to the then Prime Minister, Raila Odinga.
The organisation had for many years unsuccessfully sought diplomatic status, even seeking the support of a vice president and former Foreign Affairs Minister, to no avail. I immediately knew the right button.
I had a habit of disappearing into Kibera at a dingy joint called ‘Garage’. The garage was not for vehicles, but a local hangout for many of our ‘mashemeji’.
At Garage, I met with my friend, Captain Ochieng. The fellow was a captain in the 1982 Kenya Air Force and was incarcerated alongside Raila after the failed coup d'état. Rumour had it that they shared a cell.
Through
Captain, we reached out to Raila’s personal assistant in his Kibra
constituency, who assured me that my request was an easy one. We agreed on a
date for the courtesy call, which he confirmed. I hurried back to the office to
deliver the ‘good news’. There was palpable excitement.
The team that would pay a courtesy call was quickly constituted. It comprised the Christian organisation’s crème de la crème. As the link person, I was also included. It was an early morning visit. We gathered at Fairview hotel very early in the morning, had a sumptuous breakfast and proceeded to the Prime Minister’s office.
At the building, we took a lift to his office, where we met a uniformed sentry at the entrance. We informed him of the visit by the high-powered team. He then called Raila's secretary and they conversed for a while. He then handed the phone to me. The woman greeted me and after pleasantries, informed me we were not in the diary.
I was confused. I told her the PA had confirmed. I tried to call the PA’s cellphone, but it was off. She told me the Prime Minister was already at another function, would be out the entire day and his packed diary was planned days ahead. I asked her what I should do or tell the leaders.
She calmly told me to tell them the truth and ask them to go back to their offices. It was a cold morning, but I was drenched in sweat and panicked. Some of my leaders had cancelled foreign trips to attend this meeting. My job was definitely on the line.
As one of them started blasting me, I stood aside and made a call to Captain. Captain, who lived in Kibra, listened to me calmly. He told me to request my team not to leave but give them a few minutes. After a few minutes, he called me back and assured me that all was well and I should not worry.
After some time, Raila’s Communications director, Salim Lone, arrived. He rushed to the visitors' room, where we were seated. After pleasantries, we were served tea, coffee and snacks.
A few minutes later, the PA (whose phone was off) rushed in. He apologised to me, alleging his phone had run out of power. I was later told he even boarded a boda boda to the office to beat the morning traffic.
About an hour later, Raila and his team arrived. He met with us and gave us ample time.
The short of the long is that we had a fruitful mission.
The Christian organisation was later granted diplomatic status. I was stunned.
My bosses looked at me suspiciously. It was that look that did not betray the wonder of how the feat was achieved. Amiable Raila even engaged me in my local Luhya language.
Everyone had a chance to take photos with the enigma.
Much later at Garage, I asked Captain how he pulled that move. He told me it was ‘Mama Power’.
He apparently reached out to Mama Ida, who influenced the rearrangement of her husband’s diary to meet my team. For many years, some of my bosses gave me that look of 'you are an undercover cop'. Thanks to Baba for his flexibility that cold morning and for saving my face.
As Kenya lays him to rest, may Jakom, Raila Amolo Odinga aka Tinga Tinga’s soul rest in peace.
International communications consultant and Ford Asili presidential running mate in Kenya's last election
