Passing by Mwea town, one can clearly notice the transformation of the area so much, that it stands out as an upcoming city in the midst of a village with rice fields green with beauty. This place looks just like Nairobi in many ways with fast food outlets that sell what many people would associate with city life.
But things haven’t always been like that.
Twenty-three years ago, the place was just a small sleepy backwater town with nothing much to show for it. Having started as a concentration camp for World War II veterans, the place grew to become the epitome of modern day slavery and economic exploitation, akin to the medieval England’s Lord versus serfs’ relationship.
Alfred Nderitu, a young engineer, had grown up there and had witnessed all the oppression.
Nderitu’s turning point was when one day he took his girlfriend home with his new car, and he couldn’t be allowed to go through the gates of the rice fields, as he needed a permit from the National Irrigation Board.
He and his girlfriend had to thus spend the night in a bar. It was then that he vowed he would one day aspire to be the area MP to liberate his people. Fifteen years later, he became the MP for Mwea.
By that time, the NIB was the sole proprietor of the rice fields, would buy rice at Sh7 per kilo, yet the production cost was at Sh25. Further, no farmer was allowed to cook his or her rice without a permit from the board, as each family was entitled to only two bags per year.
Nderitu had to buy rice for his wedding faraway in Konza, Machakos, after being allowed to do so by a district commissioner.
The poor farmers weren’t allowed to build permanent structures and they could only own two sheep or goats, at most one cow and have three children in the rice farms.
Girls were turning into prostitution, children couldn’t go to school and malaria, bilharzia, typhoid and other diseases ravaged many. Their rice would be taken to the NIB and exclusively sold to the military by the top political leadership of the country at the time for Sh50 per kilo, a profit of Sh43. Since the board operations were financed directly by the Treasury and there was no scrutiny of military operations.
In 1998, Nderitu organised a huge rally to start the revolution to emancipate his people from this economic slavery. Over 20,000 farmers showed up in the stadium and he led them to make a declaration — that no rice would be sold to NIB henceforth, and that all farmers would sell their produce to Mwea Rice Farmers Cooperative Society at Sh29 per kilo.
Anyone who opposed this would have his property razed down and his rice taken away, something that happened to a former legislator, apologetic to the then oppressive regime.
On this day, over 200 GSU officers were deployed at 5am at Nderitu’s house to arrest him, while many other policemen went on a rampage, attacking anything in site, including spraying donkeys with bullets.
The Moi government sent then Agriculture Minister Musalia Mudavadi and PS Philemon Mwaisaka to suppress the revolution. They didn’t succeed.
Over 100 MPs, among them James Orengo and Martha Karua, stood by Nderitu.
By the end of the day, 14 lives were lost, many became paralysed, while others were injured but couldn’t be taken to hospital to avoid the police from tracing them.
Nderitu worked closely with then members of civil society led by Dr Willy Mutunga, Maina Kiai, Nduko O Matigere, Mutuma Ruteere, Wambua Kituku, the indefatigable young activist Cyprian Nyamwamu and others.
This group had been conducting civic education organising and radicalisation of farmers for three years and they also helped in highlighting the revolution to the international media such as CNN. The Mwea Catholic church also played a role in this struggle.
At some point, when matters ran out of hand for the system, the MP was invited by the powers that be to negotiate. He was offered Sh40 million and 300 acres in the Ngariama scheme but he refused and chose to stand by his people.
What followed was a trail of tribulations. He couldn’t use one car to and from Parliament as he was followed everywhere he went. One Sunday, he was even flushed out of an ongoing church service in Kariara, arrested, and charged with incitement and damage to property amongst other offences.
The court case lasted for eight years with a mention each month that he had to appear in person. In the meantime, many people including close friends abandoned him. He was left to fight it out with his lawyers.
He was found guilty and fined Sh900,000 a tidy sum by then. Some resilient remnants helped him raise the amount.
As this was going on, there were death threats and one day as he was coming out of Parliament, he was carjacked and forced into a car boot by some people who turned out to be policemen. They had clear instructions to kill him at a quarry in Kiambu. One of them couldn’t bring himself to do so as he reckoned that he hadn’t joined the police to kill innocent people. They then decided to throw him at a dumpsite full of huge marauding dogs ostensibly to be mauled to death.
Luckily, he escaped unhurt after he made some sparks out of some matchbox he had to scare the dogs away. He ran naked to a nearby house, and that’s how some watchmen took him in to safety.
What kept him going against all odds was the desire to fight for the rights of his people, the support from civil society and most importantly, his belief in God.
At some point, he told the Mwea OCPD, who had come to arrest him, that “Cowboys never die, and if they do, they never rot, and if they do they never smell. They go to heaven because they are the children of God."
Nderitu went on to serve his people for two consecutive terms. Today, many beneficiaries of this revolution — the booming business that has created millionaires and billionaires — do not understand it was through sweat and blood that such gains came to be.
Very few are willing to stick their necks out to make a sacrifice, no matter how painful for the sake of this great nation. In the process, heroes such as Nderitu are forgotten as such history is neither documented nor disseminated within our learning spaces.
The vacuum enables those who control the narrative to glorify the oppressors since he who pays the piper calls the tune.
Kenya needs a rebirth towards its promising future. The question is how many are ready to make sacrifices towards this end, for price is the sacrifice you make to acquire?
(Edited by V. Graham)
