How Kariokor’s colonial hero became a villain

By AMOS KAREITHI

It was a spectacle to behold as over 2,000 pairs of eyes searched for the white man they loved to hate. Every now and then when any man matching their definition of the governor was sighted, the masses would rise in unison and give a mock salute.

Their waiting was occasionally punctuated by some joyous distractions, as happened when a mother went into labour, sending her colleagues to hurriedly form a human wall around her as men and children were shooed away with stern looks and quick tongues.

The collective labour was rewarded with sharp cries by the newborn as everybody congratulated Tabitha Kiloko, the collective misery and deprivation momentarily forgotten.

But the father disrupted the jubilations, declaring that the newborn baby would be called Mutave (meaning to be fetched) jolting crowds back to reality.

Rationale of naming

A few weeks earlier, Kiloko’s co-wife, Nthambi Muindi, had also given birth to a boy, who was named Mutava (meaning to fetch). At the time nobody questioned the rationale of a police officer naming two of his children, Mutave and Mutava.

Equally intriguing was what a police officer was doing in Nairobi’s Kariokor area in 1938, some 70 kilometres away from his home, accompanied by his two wives who had given birth within weeks of each other?

Without a care, the police officer joined his 2,000 neighbours, relatives and kinsmen, freely mingling with them as everybody waited.

These were difficult times and police officer Muindi wa Bingu was not an ordinary policeman. He had violated the oath of law enforcement by joining the masses, unwittingly etching his name in the people’s hearts and the books of history.

He was at the time elevated to the status of the biblical Moses, and was looked upon to liberate his kinsmen, and hopefully recover 2,500 cows snatched from his people by the colonial Government.

The story of how the ex colonial police officer captivated his people’s hearts with his bravery and selflessness are told in Ngelani Location and the entire Kamba land by elders as if it happened only yesterday.

One of his nephews, James Musyoka Musyimi wa Mbingu estimates that his famous uncle was born around 1890 and was named Muindi for his birth coincided with the influx of Indians (Wahindi) in Machakos.

Details of how Muindi used his mastery of the Queens language learnt from intermittent lessons offered by the Africa Inland Church at Kamuthanga are scanty.

"Muindi Bingu was taught by a local teacher, Alison. He later herded goats but when he matured, he was employed as a police officer by the colonial administration but he was fearless and outspoken," Musyimi says.

Government decree

Luki Maingi, born in 1937, says her most vivid memories of her habitually absent father were of 1948, long after he had already made his name and was a political figure.

Muindi had no hand in the circumstances that propelled him to fame and infamy, although those who knew him say he was never a man to walk away from a challenge.

The events that led to his rise were precipitated by a Government decree that all Wakamba would be required to stock only four cows. The Government would compulsorily purchase the rest in a destocking programme that proved immensely unpopular.

"In 1938, Governor Robert Brooke-Popham ordered the seizing of all the cows which exceeded the stipulated number. In total 2,500 animals were rounded up. They were to be delivered to Liebigs, who was in the process of starting Kenya Meat Commission in Athi River," Denis Katia explains.

Mutua Kathike recalls how a man from his village, Musyoka wa Mavata’s 100 cows were grabbed by the Government, leading to his death as a result of shock.

Bitter cattle owners vowed to petition the governor although their demands that he travel to Machakos to address them were ignored.

Despite the locals’ protests, the Government proceeded with the destocking, seizing animals from families with more than four cows. This touched off animosity, as the dissatisfied owners demanded that the governor visit Machakos to address their plight.

Brooke-Popham who had directed the destocking of the livestock in Kamba land found it beneath him to travel all the way to Machakos to rescind his orders.

It was against this background that the community looked for a person who could present their petition to the Government in English, even as they prepared to trek to Nairobi to have their voice heard.

Muindi was the natural choice for the residents. He was fearless, could speak English and knew the way to the governor’s residence in Nairobi, where they intended to go, Luki adds.

The echoes of the journey through the jungle and hostile terrain to Nairobi still make the eyes of 98-year-old James Mwanzia Musimi wa Ngiti sparkle as he recalls his historic journey.

"At the time I was about 34 years for I was born in 1904. It was a journey where women, children, men both young and old all participated. These people had come from all parts of Ukambani," Musyimi wa Ngiti says. The purpose of the trip, the old man explains, was to demand the return of all the animals that had been taken by the Government.

Although some of his memory has faded, Ngiti recalls how his entire community camped in Nairobi for weeks before the Government capitulated, when the governor agreed to see them.

However the protesting villagers had to travel back to Machakos, where the governor climbed down and agreed to release the animals and suspend the hated policy of destocking.

According to Prof Tim Parson, author of "Wakamba warriors are Soldiers of the Queen’ published in Richard Trilo’s Rough Guides, when the Government forcibly took the cattle, between 1,500 and 5,000 people marched to Kariokor ("Carrier Corps") Market in Nairobi to petition Brooke-Popham to halt the auctions. Once there, they camped near the racecourse grounds for six weeks, standing as a group to salute the governor whenever he passed, until the governor held a public meeting in Machakos town to discuss their complaints. According to the author, the community’s members of the police and army sympathised with the protesters as their cattle too had been seized.

But even as the community celebrated its rare triumph over a Government not used to losing, it was pyrrhic victory for Muindi, whose people regained their assets even as he was swiftly arrested.

"This was the price my father had to pay. He was arrested together with other leaders – Elijah Kavulu, Isaac Mwalonzi and Simon Kioko – and was detained for seven years in Lamu," Luki explains. She relives the emptiness of their lives as they had to scrap through life, foregoing their education as Muindi languished in custody in a far away land.

Celebrated homecoming.

The family’s suffering was, however, overshadowed by the community’s joy in 1947 when Muindi was released and returned in Kamuthanga. Villagers celebrated his homecoming.

"I went to his home on the day he was released. There were hundreds of other people who came to receive him back. Each carried gifts but majority brought milk," adds Ngiti.

According to the old man, at least four drums of milk were taken to Muindi’s home where he and his guests drunk until they could take no more. Jubilant neighbours drove their bullocks into his vast land and ploughed it for him, as they chanted songs in his honour.

Overnight, Muindi became a politician who moved round the country agitating for the expulsion of the white man. At the time, Muindi was instrumental in the formation of Ukamba Members Association, and was close to other Kenya African Union politicians such as Jomo Kenyatta who visited him and slept at his place. Both parties were proscribed in 1940.

His political honeymoon was however short lived for he was employed by Smith – a diminutive bald settler who had a farm at Komarock area that overlooked Lukenya.

"Apparently he struck a deal with Smith. He was employed as a guard and would report any of the kinsmen whose livestock strayed into the settler’s land. Soon the Kariokor liberator became the Komarock villain," Ngiti says.

But Luki offers a different version. She believes that her father’s tribulations were caused by over drinking. He was becoming very popular politically and some people plotted to get rid of him. They ultimately achieved this using a close confidante and a cousin.

After being forced to pay a lot of money in the form of fines to Smith, the residents of Ngelani location blamed their woes on Muindi and plotted how to finish him off.

"He was allegedly lured into a drinking den where he was entertained until he was inebriated and then attacked with an axe on his head, dying on the spot. Maingi Musei was arrested in connection with the death and was later released. My father was then buried in Komarock," she narrates.

Ironically, Muindi exited this world in ignominy because of his association with cattle, which had propelled him to celebrity status, although his name lives on the people’s lips.

In Ngelani, his name is immortalised by Muindi Bingu Secondary School while in Nairobi, several kilometres from the theatre of his demonstrations in 1938, his name also lives on at the heart of the city, on Muindi Mbingu Street where the City Market is located.

akareithi@standardmedia.co.ke