In the mid-1980s, Philippines captured world’s attention.
The Filipinos had gotten tired of their President, Ferdinand Marcos, who with his kleptomaniac clan had a stranglehold on the country.
Demonstrations were held mainly in Manila, calling on Marcos and his equally hated wife, the extravagant Imelda to let go of power for another person.
To show how extravagant the former first lady was, by the time the Marcos clique left power, those who stormed her wardrobes found a collection of over 3,000 pairs of designer shoes. This means if she was wearing a pair a day and discarding the same, it would have taken her eight years to walk through her rare collection. Atta girl!
One of the people who captured my attention watching the Philippines events unfold thousands of kilometers away was the Archbishop of Manila, the man going by the rather ungodly name of Jaime Cardinal Sin. Apart from his acute sense of humour (he famously called his residence the House of Sin), the cardinal whose motto in Latin was ‘Servium’ (I serve) proved to be a thorn in the flesh of President Marcos.
He used the cathedral in Manila to push the agenda of the People Power Revolution. The revolution was staged in the streets of the urban centres. History watchers agree the day the chief of staff of the Philippine Army Gen. Fidel Ramos walked from the army headquarters, armed with an Uzi submachine gun to join the demonstrations was the day the writing was on the wall for Marcos.
It is instructive to note that as Cardinal Sin was railing against the sins of Marcos and his potentates, a similar battle was joined here in Kenya. The only difference was that whereas in Philippines Cardinal Sin was running an almost one man show, in our situation there were many church leaders who were calling out President Daniel Moi and his equally rapacious gang that was looting the country dry while massacring opponents as a sport as the country careened dangerously towards the cliff.
Quick to come to mind are men like Alexander Muge, Henry Okullu and David Gitari (all deceased and all from the Anglian Church). There were also Timothy Njoya of PCEA and Mutava Musyimi of the National Council of Churches of Kenya.
These men, God bless them, played the role of an opposition party at a time when the opposition was banned and the ruling Kanu was the only party allowed by the constitution. Not that the Kanu hawks were not clawing back.
At this time, the Anglican Church went by the name of the Church of the Province of Kenya, an acronym Kanu hawks were quick to label the Church of Politics of Kenya, to the amusement of the members of the Kanu politburo and to the chagrin of the Anglican faithful.
Muge’s case was interesting in that being a Kalenjin, Moi and those of his inner circle saw the bishop as a sellout. Conventional wisdom prevailing among this clique was that Muge should have cast his lot with a fellow Kalenjin, Moi, and leave the rabble rousing to the Kikuyu and Luo clergymen because the two tribes were opposition leaning.
Far be it removed from Muge to stray from what he believed was the way of the cross. Until his death in an accident at Kipkaren River in 1990, Muge continually gave the Moi regime hell. Moi was to leave the presidency 12 years later thanks to a constitutional limit to presidential terms.
What is the connecting factor in these two scenarios?
Well, in Philippines the Filipinos believed they had heard the last of the Marcos dynasty after the dictator was sent packing to exile in Hawaii, where he died in 1989.
However, his son, Ferdinand Marcos Junior alias Bongbong, is back in the country’s politics and is one of the candidates lined up for the presidential elections in 2022. It is not clear whether the man stands a realistic chance of going back to be the resident of the Malacañang Palace, a place he stayed in as a first son when his father was busy raping the country.
Even if he doesn’t win the seat, the fact that Bongbong can be powerful enough to run for president goes a long way in showing that thieving dynasties never quite die.
Just like in Philippines, Kenya is also seeing the rise of President Moi’s last-born son Gideon, who is proving to be a major player in the President uhuru Kenyatta’s succession race.
Kenyans who are old enough would remember how the senior Moi was literally chased out of town by a charged mob that thronged Uhuru Park to witness the swearing-in of Mwai Kibaki as Kenya’s third president.
If you told the crowd then that some 20 years later another Moi would be eying the presidency, you would have been termed mad.
Gideon might not win the presidency but the fact that cannot be ignored is that come 2022, a whole lot of voters who never witnessed the Moi excesses as head of state will vote.
To this voting bloc, Gideon might just be the balm of Gilead to heal the many political and economic troubles bedeviling the country.
