Last Saturday marked three decades since Jaramogi Oginga Odinga died. There was an anniversary service at Kisumu’s Ofafa Memorial Hall. Whoever came up with the idea of a panel discussion to reflect on the life and times of the doyen of Kenya’s politics was a genius of sorts, because it was truly exciting listening to stellar speakers like freedom fighter Gitu wa Kahengeri, former Kimilili MP Mukhisa Kituyi and former Ugandan Minister for Foreign Affairs, Prof Olara Otunnu.
However, I wish the ODM fraternity or the Raila protocol people would work on both the sound system and the protocol chaos that usually accompany the functions of the Azimio boss. The Jaramogi fete was meant to be a sombre occasion of remembrance and reflection, and at the very least, the podium chaos and intermittent sound disruptions should have been avoided.
Be that as it may, the choice of Ofafa Memorial Hall to host the anniversary was truly inspiring. Named after pioneer businessman and suave politician, Councillor Ambrose Ofafa, there is a real connection with Jaramogi, considering circumstances following the death of Ofafa in 1953, and the role the first vice president played after it, to cement his place as Kenya's foremost nationalist.
Many Kenyans may know about the colonialists’ attempt to divide the freedom movement in Kenya by offering Jaramogi a chance to form government, which he duly declined. But history doesn't do justice to a bigger story there. In November 1953, Ofafa, a key pillar of the independence struggle, was murdered in Nairobi. At the time, the colonialists were trying to push members of the Kikuyu community out of Nairobi and into the reserves as punishment over the Mau Mau activities, while confiscating their businesses and trying to hand them over to mostly Luos. Ofafa had been accused of being among the businessmen who had been handed Kikuyu enterprises.
Ofafa's assassination was used by the colonialists to look like a Kikuyu revenge hit on Luos encroaching on the former’s business realm. Jaramogi was deep in the villages in Western, mobilising independence movements. He heard of the death of his comrade, and the disturbing fact that the colonialists were set on arming Luos in Nairobi to fight Kikuyus, which would have crippled the independence struggle. He set out on a journey to Nairobi in a massive hurry.
Every passing minute carried great risk that tribal unity ahead of independence would be compromised for good if colonialist's divisive designs reigned. Jaramogi was then the Luo Ker, so he arrived and went looking for all Luos he could, with one message; do not fall into the trap, it’s a ploy to kill the independence dream! This one act, in my view, played the biggest role in how things turned out later on independence night on December 12, 1963. Jaramogi averted a catastrophe, while helping the country stay the course towards Uhuru.
Having keenly studied Kenya's history around the period before and immediately after independence, I have concluded and can state unequivocally that of all independence heroes, Jaramogi was the arguably the only one who actually knew what the country needed and the only one with a plan of getting there.
Both historical anecdotes and accounts of those who worked with him closely paint the picture of a principled nationalist who wanted the whole package of independence, rather than just the symbolic transfer of the instruments of power that ultimately happened. There is a deeper grassroots angle taken by the old man that is hardly ever discussed in public discourse.
For instance, Jaramogi spent months in the villages across Kenya, mobilising citizens to form investment groups to be able to own assets upon independence. The famous story of the Luo Thrift was just a fraction of the whole thing. Wherever he went, from western Kenya to the Coast, Jaramogi was nearly the only independence leader trying to get the people to prime themselves for economic independence, almost aware that freedom without a sound economic base would be a shell.
But beyond just economic and political independence, I have always noted the close association of the former VP with indigenous religious leaders, like famous Dini ya Msambwa prophet Elijah Masinde Wanameme, who also doubled up as a freedom fighter and Legio Maria leader Simeon Melkio Ondeto. Indeed, as independence knocked, Jaramogi constantly fought for the release of the nearly forgotten Wanameme, seeking the freedom of all liberation heroes as a complete independence package.
My translation is that in Jaramogi's mind, the white man's religion had been used as a tool for colonisation. To be truly independent, these indigenous religious leaders and organisations, mainstreaming their African methods of worship, could be used as a basis for religious independence. Independence, on paper, was important, but as Bob Marley would have said, the people had to emancipate themselves from mental slavery. Today’s cults and destructive religious ideologies confirm this fear.
You cannot tell the old man’s story without tmentioning the Russian-built hospital in Kisumu, or the Lumumba Institute in Nairobi, public institutions constructed with foreign support. Of course, there were more, not often mentioned, but the image one gets is that Odinga had an eye for the expansion of infrastructure, health and state institutions at a time when many of his peers preferred personal enrichment.
Having been a great friend and frequent guest of Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser, Jaramogi had seen how revolutionary leadership had turned Egypt into a food basket, revitalised irrigation agriculture and turned it into a powerhouse, with much Russian support too. He looked at the map of Kenya as one indivisible and progressive entity. With his access to foreign largesse, if the former VP, like the early power brokers after independence, had decided to enrich his family and forget the nation, he would indeed have become fabulously rich. But he wasn't that kind of man.
On January 20, 1994, the great Jaramogi rested. Newspaper editors fancifully eulogised him as the best president Kenya never had. Of all independence heroes, I submit that there is none before and none after him, who can hold a candle to Jaramogi.
Sadly, the only things that most of the young generation will ever know about the great freedom fighter are media stories and details from the rather small volume of his book, Not Yet Uhuru. But when they laid him to rest, that casket contained a story of resilience, principles, undying belief in the goodness humanity and a voice of freedom hardly ever replicated.
Long after being shunned from power and national politics, following his dramatic departure from the vice presidency of a young nation in 1966, when he could have fallen prey to cheap, vengeful and divisive politics, he stayed the nationalist course. Even after multiparty politics returned in 1992, he kept the faith in nationhood. And quite typical of him, he stayed away from the bitterness that has come to define modern politics.
His legacy remains that of personal sacrifice for national good, belief in nationhood and a firm foundation in true independence. I believe Jaramogi was born ahead of his time, with a vision and focus that probably came too soon for a nation like ours. I think that one day, his story will be told properly, but it’s not yet done.
The writer is a political commentator