The gloves are off, so why aren’t Tinga and Ruto drawing blood in their duel?

The first time I heard anyone use the term, “Right Honourable,” it was when Man Ruto, the able Deputy President of the Republic of Kenya was introducing his erstwhile lieutenant, former PM Tinga.

The year was 2008, when Tinga’s other name was, delivered with fitting reverence – and without any sense of irony – as “the people’s president.”

The title had no constitutional recognition, but one might argue, there is no better recognition than residing in people’s hearts, which is what Tinga’s followers believed he did.

And as we have often heard, a day is a long time in politics, so the seven years gone by must have felt like eons for Man Ruto and others, which is why, with the passage of time, Tinga’s honorific titles have been replaced by demeaning terms that Man Ruto has popularised: jamaa wa vitendawili, (the man of riddles), mtu wa nusu mkate (the half-loaf man), or simply Tinga.

Tinga had largely been silent in this mchongoano (insults) perhaps because he is old enough – even with that cool shin on his head that drips with youth – to know that a name doesn’t mean much.

But something pricked him to the quick this week and he declared that Man Ruto “the high priest of corruption” in Kenya.

That must have been particularly hurtful for Man Ruto as the term “priest” has religious connotations, evoking the man’s past and present religious proclivity.

As a matter of fact, Ruto is so spiritual sometimes, I often wonder what career choices he would have made had he stuck to the Christian Union, as he did in college, and steered away from that noisy outfit called Youth for Kanu ‘92.

Predictably, Man Ruto’s brigade swung into action this week, calling Tinga “the lord of poverty,” apparently because he has superintended over a constituency whose singular distinction is to develop into a larger slum than Tinga found it.

Well, one might argue Tinga has no control over rural-urban migration, and that he had little control over things that made Kibera the most attractive business hub for new city arrivals, where they all hoped their dreams could be realised.

The real beef

I hear this slum development model has been so successful, tourism is now a top income earner in Kibera due to its popularity with international arrivals. The flying toilet remains an all-time favourite, and it is enjoying a fresh lease of life following the recent spate of arson on public toilets there.

But I digress. The more captivating spectacle about this duel between Tinga and Man Ruto, is how these two grown men descended to such lows, considering their many shared milestones.

Hard to believe, but I hear the beef between them is not about Kibera, or Kibra, as it is now known, but about some actual beef that Tinga doesn’t want sold to Uganda.

Man Ruto doesn’t own any herds, but the genesis of the tiff, I hear, is about sugar grown in Western Kenya – which is hardly enough, by the way – but Tinga still wants none bought from Uganda.

Reason, this will kill the sugar sector in Western province, which admittedly cannot produce what we need.

Now, this is beef and sugar business is getting complicated.

So let’s put it simply and say to augment Kenya’s shortfall in sugar production, Prezzo UK recently offered to buy sugar from Uganda, and barter it with dairy products.

Tinga’s problem is that the man who owns herds enough to free up some for meat and milk to Uganda is Prezzo UK.

But to get to Prezzo, one would have to go past Man Ruto, who has defended his boss effectively.

He is taking blows for him.

But one shouldn’t be unnecessarily worried, even when the gloves are off: Tinga and Man Ruto can’t draw blood since theirs is a mock fight, so they knew the outcome of their combat before they even got into the ring.

They have done it before and they will definitely do it again. It’s politics, you know. That’s the name of the game.