Curtain falls on politician George Nthenge, man with experience of the Biblical Job

Ford Asili officials George Nthenge [R] and Martin Shikuku October 1996 [File]

An incident in the life of former MP George Nthenge who died on Tuesday, aged 94, has resemblance to story of Job in the Bible.

In a matter of seconds one morning 43 years ago, he lost his four sons and four daughters. Within minutes, his wife too was gone and another daughter followed within hours.

The MP, who only minutes earlier had been having breakfast with his family, lay in hospital unconscious with doctors unsure whether he would live. He did.

Nthenge served for three terms as MP – in the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. He was also one of the six founders of the original Ford when multi-party politics returned to the country in early 1990s.

I was perhaps the last journalist to interview him three years ago – on November 8, 2018. When I met him, though 91, he was still hale and hearty. Actually, I linked up with him at a bank on the Muindi Mbingu Street where he was making a transaction on his own and walked with me to his curio shop at the City Market about a 100 metres away.

His memory was as sharp, recalling everything by minute detail. And as we parted, he sang for me without missing a stanza a hymn in the Golden Bells he learnt at the Mang'u High School when a student in 1940s.

When Satan visited

He recalled events on that tragic morning of Thursday, November 9, 1978.

At the time, he was MP for then Iveti South constituency in Machakos. He lived at Muumbuni village, two kilometers from Machakos town. In the morning he and his young family would commute to Nairobi where the wife ran the curio business and children attended school.

As usual, on the fateful morning, the family had breakfast together, said a short prayer, and got into the car — a Peugeot 504 Station Wagon Estate. In all they were 13 – the couple, their 10 children and a niece.

The morning was unusually foggy. Not much to worry about though as the MP had driven on the same route ever since he bought his first car in 1950s.

Getting to the Nairobi-Mombasa highway, just past the Small World Country Club and approaching Athi River bridge, a truck driving ahead of the MP at a crawling pace signaled to allow him overtake. He took the cue and pressed the accelerator.

From nowhere, a sand-packed lorry appeared from the opposite direction with full lights on. Blinded, the MP swerved sideways into a ditch. Bad coincidence. The lorry driver too swerved in the same direction.

The worst happened. The family car had three-quarters of it flattened. The lorry’s entire front axle was knocked out.

In a flash, the MP’s four sons and four daughters were gone. Few minutes later, the wife succumbed to her injuries as rescuers struggled to get her out from the twisted metal and broken glass.

Another daughter would be gone within hours.

The MP was retrieved unconscious with smashed ribs and broken legs. The niece would die from the accident-related injuries six years later.

By sheer miracle, just one of the passengers – the MP’s son – came out of the wreckage conscious with only a broken arm.

In our conversation three years ago, Nthenge recalled what it was like when he regained consciousness in a hospital ward four days later.

“It looked like a scene from hell. I couldn’t turn my head or move any other part of my body. My arms and ribs were heavily bandaged, and my legs plastered and fastened to the bed. I was being fed on drip. I mumbled a few words to ask where I was and collapsed back to deep slumber.”

It was about a week later when doctors agreed that he be told exactly what had happened.

“My wife and best companion for quarter century was gone. So were my nine children. At that point I thought there was not much reason for me to live, closed my eyes and fell into heavy slumber,” he recalled.

“Surprisingly, I was a different person when I woke up the following day. First I thanked God I was still alive. Then I thanked Him my one son had survived the accident, and that my other son was well studying in the US. Then I remembered all the good friends I had known since childhood and who had since died. But here I was at 51 years, still alive, and after staring at sure death only few days ago. I had all the reason to thank my God.”

He went on: “Yes, I had lost nine children within hours, but I still had two more living. God had been good to give me 11 children, yet many people I knew weren’t blessed with a single child.” 

Instead of self-pity and bitterness towards God, the MP found himself counting his blessings and thanking heavens. He told me: “I felt great desire to want to live and see what more God held in store for me after taking away what He had already given me. There must have been reason why God would take me to the doorstep of death but pull me away just at the entrance. I told myself.”

Moving on

Live had to go on, the MP resolved while still strapped on his hospital bed. The first dilemma was whether to allow burial in his absence.

“The doctors weren’t sure when I would leave hospital. Yet here were 10 bodies of my dear ones lying in the morgue. Why would I add more grief to my larger family keeping in the mortuary 10 bodies and incurring costs? Painful as it was, I made the decision to allow burial to take place in my absence.”

Next big dilemma once out of hospital and picked the pieces was whether to remarry.

He told me: “I thought I shouldn’t. I was still mourning my dear  wife. I couldn’t imagine someone else occupying her space in the family bed. Again, at 51, I thought I couldn’t get a girl to love me. I also doubted I could have the excitement to fall in love as I did in my twenties.”

Little did he know others had better ideas. His father was first to throw a spanner in the works when he sat him down and said: “Look here, you can’t live in the past. You loved your wife yes, and indeed she was a great woman we all liked.

"But she is gone. Now you must move on, get a girl and start all over again. That is what life is about. If you live in the past, you will surely and quickly follow your wife to the grave.”

But more surprise was in store. His father-in-law – yes, the father of his late wife – came calling and insisting he re-marries. “I know you loved my daughter, but she is gone. Now go out there and get another wife. It wasn’t you wish that my daughter part with you. We leave that to God.”

To prove he was sincere, the father-in-law gave him a cow as part of the would-be bride price.

Within 11 months of the horror road crash, he had a second wife. Like the first, her name was also Damari, though 20 years younger.

The MP was back in cloud nine. The new wife accepted the earlier family as her own and they moved on. The icing on the cake, and as was the case with the Biblical Job, the second wife gave birth to four sons who in turn brought to the homestead four other daughters-in-law.

Judging from the interview three years ago, I have no doubt as he made his last bow on Tuesday, Mzee Nthenge was a man at peace with heavens and with all below. Hope in the Eternity, he won’t be placed far from the biblical Job.