By Joe Ombuor

He was a gifted orator, a master of Kamba language, charismatic and a charming politician. But all that ended abruptly on January 17, 1985 at about 5.00pm when bullets ended his promising political career.

By the time he died, Philip Mutisya Manandu was the MP for Kitui North constituency (now Mwingi North) where he had served between 1979 and 1985.

The late Philip Mutisya Manandu.

He was 49 at the time of his death. The lurid spot where it happened in Tseikuru Market still looks scary under the canopy of two Neem trees that have defied the passage of time.

The bullets, fired from a G3 rifle for unclear reasons by an Administration Police constable snuffed out the lives of three other people hobnobbing with the legislator. They were Kathina Mulingawa, a businesswoman in Tseikuru, Mutangili Mwinzi, head teacher of Kaningo Primary School and a businesswoman called Beatrice.

A fourth would-be victim, Daniel Mukiti Kyambo, escaped with a minor injury after a bullet grazed his chin. He still lives at Kamali, 16 kilometres from Tseikuru Market.

Constable Edward Chambiri, then attached to Tseikuru chief’s camp went berserk after the killings and shot himself dead when his colleagues sought to disarm him. His death deepened the puzzle over Manandu’s murder. Nobody was charged.

With Manandu out of the scene, Stephen Kalonzo Musyoka, now Vice President, had a smooth ride to Parliament.

Manandu’s widow, Mrs Rose Muliwa Mutisya who was at the murder scene, says she cheated death narrowly after the killer shot at her as she escaped.

"The bullet missed narrowly and hit a nearby toilet," she recalls.

She ran past the door of their business premises where the husband was meeting some people and jumped out through the window.

"I have never known why he wanted to kill me as well," she says.

Tears roll down her eyes as she re-lives the tragedy.

"I was seated with my husband when the armed policeman appeared. I saw him lift the gun and before I could figure out what he was doing, I heard gunshots. I ran for my life," she said.

His son, Muthami Mutisya, then aged 13 and in Standard Five at Tseikuru Primary School, says his father had requested him to bring seats for the visitors.

"It was around 5pm. After taking the seats, I returned to our residence from where I saw the policeman pass by carrying a gun. I assumed he was hunting the Somali bandits, which in those days was a common menace," he says.

Manandu’s wife Mrs Rose Muliwa (seated centre) with her relatives during the interview. Photos/Joe Ombuor

"After a while, I heard gunshots and took to my heels. I thought bandits had invaded and ran to a family friend," he adds.

The following day he was told his father and four other people had been killed.

Muthami says the policeman had earlier behaved suspiciously prompting Manandu to report to Mwingi Police Station that his life was in danger.

"He had accosted my father one day with an offer to provide security as we drove from Kaningo to Masyungwa to visit relatives. My father rejected the overture. On our way back, he repeated the offer," Muthami recalls.

The family believes Manandu’s death was political. "We later saw in his dairy entries that his political detractors were after his life," says Rose.

She says a top lawyer volunteered to help the family seek justice, but a senior politician took the file from him promising to expedite the case.

Rose says the politician handed the file to his lawyer who remained inaccessible.

"We could not reach the politician. He was always ‘too busy to see us’ whenever we went to his office," recalls Rose.

She says it was only after the matter reached the Attorney General through the intervention of a family friend that things started moving again.

"The AG prevailed upon the lawyer to expedite the case. Meanwhile, we approached an MP who was a family friend to raise the matter in Parliament. Our efforts paid dividends 12 years later when we received Sh1 million from the Government as compensation," says Rose.

Rose says she had struggled to educate her 10 children before receiving the compensation.

"I sold goats and cattle Manandu left behind to see them through college. Unfortunately, none of them has a job today," she laments.

Rose Muliwa Mutisya, Manandu’s widow.

Rose says she shared the compensation money with family members including Manandu’s step-mother, his brothers and sisters.

Manandu’s remains rest under a drab, sun scorched concrete slab in a simple grave in front of a three bed roomed house he completed building shortly before he met his death.

Rose is today indistinguishable from other folks who struggle to eke out a living from tending sheep, goats and chicken in an area where growing crops is a mirage.

"We appeal to the Government to remember us when reviewing the plight of former MPs," pleads Rose.

At his Kaningo home, residents talk of a generous and development conscious leader who donated his land for the construction of a shopping centre (Kaningo trading centre), Kaningo Mixed Secondary School and Kaningo dispensary.

A borehole he sank shortly before his death is the only source of water in an area terribly starved of the essential commodity.

He went out to check had indeed, invaded