Chemorei: They killed my father like a dog

By Alex Kiprotich

"I want to be a police man," was the curt reply from Joshua Chemorei, 11, when I asked him what he would like to be when he grows up.

"Why?" I ask. But before he answers he looks up to the sky, rolls his eyes, and then looks at me and in a voice tinged with bitterness he answers:

"So that I can avenge."

I shudder but I feel for him. Joshua’s life has never been the same since his father was killed by police in 2005 and branded a criminal.

"Walimwua kama mbwa na sasa tuko na shida (they killed him like a dog and now we have problems)," says the Standard Seven pupil.

"If my father was alive, my mother would not have asked you for a ride to town," he remarks. His words are like needles directed at my heart.

I try to divert the subject of discussion by asking him if he was ready to sit Kenya Certificate of Primary Education examination next year given that he will be in Class Eight.

No communication

His mother, Judith Chesoi, says the boy refused to go to a private school saying he did not want to see her strain financially.

"He said he would not wish to see me worry over school fees yet there is free primary education," said the widow, who earns a living running a small family business in Kitale town.

Chesoi says their life took a dramatic turn after police killed her husband. Though Chesoi and her six children have coped so far, they just live for today and leave the rest to God.

"This killing really traumatised the children. They killed him in plain view of them and when it was announced he was a criminal, our social life took a worse dimension," she said, fighting off tears.

She says they used to enjoy the respect of the society and were always the envy of the many. After all they deserved the lifestyle they were leading as her husband, Erastus Kirui Chemorei, was the adjutant at the GSU Training School in Ruaraka and was only two ranks away from the GSU top command.

"Everybody knew him and he was a respected man. Then suddenly, he was a criminal and my children became watoto wa yule jambazi sugu aliuawa na polisi," she said.

The GSU refused to participate in the burial of Chemorei saying that they had nothing to do with a criminal.

She says after the killing of her husband, she did not receive any communication from his bosses and he decided to go and see them on March 6, 2005 – a visit she regrets.

Funeral expenses

She says in a company of few relatives and friends, she went to the GSU headquarters. She was told the GSU commandant, Lawrence Mwadime, and his deputy were not around. She was directed to see William Saiya, the current GSU commandant.

"Saiya told me he was sorry because they could not participate in Chemorei’s funeral because the police spokesperson had said he was a criminal," she says.

On hearing this she started crying. Saiya said that Chemorei was his friend, but there was nothing he could do.

"He said it was up to the Government and I left weeping. Outside I met Chemorei’s driver and other officers who knew me and consoled me. They also cried," she recalls.

She says from Ruaraka she went to see their then area MP John Serut who together with other politicians assisted in meeting the funeral expenses.

"Chemorei was a decorated GSU man. I have no doubt had he lived he would be the commandant now. But he was forsaken by his peers and politicians buried him," she says.

She says the police force distanced itself from the family and even a few who had come to help were warned.

"But he had friends who were willing to assist," she says.

She says after the burial, in April she went back to Ruaraka where she met the GSU commandant who empathised with her, and called in a senior officer who was in charge of officers’ welfare.

"They gave me Sh80,000, and later sent me another Sh100,000 which the officers contributed. Mwadime told me my husband had a clean record and his benefits would be paid," she recalled.

But the police kept training their eye on the Chemoreis. After executing the family’s breadwinner they were back to haunt Judith in December 25, 2005, when six people who lived near the Chemorei’s were shot dead.

Among the six were Francis Kura who was the driver of area OCPD, Augustine Kimantheria, during the day Chemorei was killed. Michael Cheptot, a former GSU officer, who had confronted the officers on February 19 on the killing of Chemorei, was also murdered.

"All the killings resembled my husband’s. Officers who confided in us said they were killed by police officers to eliminate people who knew the behind-the-scenes planning and execution of my husband," says Chesoi.

She was, however, shocked when police arrested her over the killings and kept her in police cells for one year.

"On January 3, 2006, a day after the burial of Kura, police officers came to my house at 4pm and told me they wanted me to write a statement over the killings," she says.

She says that she asked them if she could use her vehicle, but was shocked to see a breakdown Land Rover coming into the compound to pull her vehicle while she was bundled into the police Land Rover.

At the police station, she says, she met other ten people, including her brother and a man whose son and daughter-in-law were also killed.

She says she was stunned beyond comprehension when she was taken to court three weeks later and charged with being in possession of an AK47 rifle.

"When the prosecution called its witnesses, it was like a joke as none implicated us and we were acquitted in October," she says.

She says all this time her children were left without a parent to care for them and the first born son, Isaac, who was then at St Joseph’s Secondary School used to sneak from school to come and take care of them.

"I was finally expelled from school because I used to sneak and come and see how they were fairing," says Isaac.

"Father had been killed and here again they came for mum," he says.

But this was not the last time the police hunted down the widow.

In November 2007, a certain inspector Kitur, warned her that nothing would stop them from killing her like her husband if she continued talking about her husband’s killing, summoned her.

"She told me I was lucky I was not around when my husband was killed because they would have killed me, too. And after four days in cells she told me to go home and prepare my will," she said.