The
Last time I published a blog here was on 23-Apr-2015 but after Evanso MC Marsha –
(hi is your blog still up n running ) and
Fuchiuristic Fuchiuristic Fuchiuristic ...( ...andika blog tusome wewe..) request, let
me say this..
This
Morning, I watched a 48 Minutes video posted by Alshabaab after the El-Adde
attack and it broke my heart. The contents of that video are just
heartbreaking. I can’t share the video but let us pray for the men in uniform
especially those in operational areas. Immediately after viewing the El adde
attack video, I bumped onto a Facebook post by Boniface Mwangi on post election
violence that got me thinking, 28th December 2016 will mark exactly
12 Years since I joined the then Kenya Police Force (GSU). I don’t take this
for granted as we have lost officers in the line of duty hence I got a reason
to thank my maker for the opportunity to serve and for keeping me moving.
I
quickly called myself to a brief meeting and I asked myself, Mwangi, what is your
highest moment and what is your lowest moment so far as a man in uniform now
that death is so real and the only thing you leave behind is a story that other
people will narrate hence they may end up expressing their personal views and
not what you could have said? This is the reason why I chose to write this.
The
best moment is that I did not bribe my way into the service. I prayed God that
he gives me a job so that I can be able to pay for my studies after I had
cleared form four. He heard my prayers, gave me a job and I was able to
undertake an undergraduate course, BCOM HRM at KCA University, Higher Diploma
at CHRM and an MBA HRM at University of Nairobi and from September,2008-December,
2014 I was done. To God be the glory and honor! I have shared this in my
previous blogs hence I need not say much.
For
my lowest moments, these three moments came to my min. El-Adde attack? Baragoi Attack? Post Election
Violence? I could not settle on any but let me say something about the Post
Election Violence and the attack on my tribe. After watching this video, link
provided below ,I realized that nobody says much about Policemen’s encounter
with tribalism beyond recruitment, promotion and placement hence my low moment.
Days
before the elections, I left Nairobi and headed to Kisumu. I was in a platoon
of officers drawn from the sports unit from our Headquarters that was charged
with the responsibility of ensuring that Kisumu was safe before and after the
elections. On our way, my fellow officers were celebrating the possibility of
earning one thousand dollars after one of the presidential candidate had allegedly
promised that he would ensure that the lowest police officer would earn at least
one thousand dollars if he was elected as the president. In this case, we were
engaged in a tough conversation where the majority was of the opinion that this
was possible but I asked a question that did not auger well with my colleagues.
One of them was, where will this money come from? Will we discover oil or gold
whose sale would generate money that would be used to pay us a thousand dollars
per month? Little did I know that I was immediately labeled as an enemy by a
good number of colleagues. This would come out clearly after we arrived and
after the election results were announced.
We
had an officer (nick named Kivuitu) who had a small hand held radio that was
very helpful to us as we would follow election updates from it. Immediately the
results were announced, a colleague scoffed at me and told me that we had
stolen the elections (Mumeiba Kura!) I asked him how we did it and I was with
him in the same Lorry and he told me that my people (People from my tribe) had
done so hence am part of them and that meant that the possibly of earning one
thousand dollars had diminished.
The
conversation that followed was very heartbreaking and dangerous to a point
where I called an auntie of mine and advised her to be on standby incase I needed
her to book me a flight from Kisumu-Nairobi now that most roads were impassable
and I felt like it was no longer safe for me to work with people who labeled me
as an enemy just because someone from my tribe had been declared as the winner
of the presidential elections. The days after this were unbearable for me.
Patrolling Kisumu City was not a walk in the park. Engaging the demonstrators
was not easy too as my mind was un settled. I gave my best but I still recall
how buildings were burnt, brand new vehicles set ablaze in the show rooms, shops
looted and the setting ablaze of part of Ukwala Super Market Kisumu.
Angry
demonstrators tried to set ablaze Ministry of Public works premises but we took
charge before they could do so. Others wanted to extend their anger to Kisumu
Airport but they did not make it as we stood guard. Lorries carrying petroleum
products for export also had a rough time but we still prevailed against the demonstrators
and ensured that they did not set the lorries ablaze or siphon the products
they were ferrying. We ensured that Ayoti Beer distributors’ stores were not
vandalized and so did we ensure that brookside warehouses/stores were safe. We
did so much as a team and my tribe did not matter here. After the violence was over, we left Kisumu for
Nairobi.
On
our way, we passed by a Stadium whose name I can’t recall where IDPs had taken
refuge. It was raining and IDPs had erected nylon paper thatched shanties, they
had lit fire outside these shanties but because of the rains, only smoke could
be seen from the outside of every shanty as the rain water would put off the
fire despite the need for heat at least for the kids who could be heard crying,
desperation was hanging all over and no one seemed to care. The most shocking
thing was what one of our officers said, ‘’Ona vile Wakikuyu wanahangaika
baadaya ya kuiba kura”. This he said with a lot of Joy which got me thinking, did
these IDPs really ‘steal’ the votes as alleged? It was a sad moment indeed. Either
way, our journey back to Nairobi continued where we passed by deserted homes, ruins
of what were maisonettes and bungalows before elections that had been reduced
to ashes, shopping centers that had been deserted and property vandalized but this was very okey with a bigger
percentage of my colleagues who had switched to their local dialect to ensure
that they shared the ’juicy’ stories with less interruption from people like me
who could not stand the mockery. They were all smiles; they cheered and jeered
at the gory structures.
At
last, we arrived in Nairobi but I was a wounded officer. I was hurting from
inside, I could not understand why I was accused of stealing votes, neither did
I understand why an officer would celebrate now that people from a certain
tribe had been evicted from their homes, I could not comprehend how I stood in between
my fellow officers and one thousand dollars so that all manner of worlds could
be hurled towards me for just being from a certain tribe. I did not chose my
parents, neither did I chose a name for myself; I was just a young officer who
did not have a voting card either. Pain full memories were all I was left with
after diligently serving my country during the post election violence. This I did not share with anyone but now I have
done so. It remains my lowest moment in the Police Service.
Twelve
years of service are fast approaching but am all smiles. Things are changing, we
are transforming, I love my job, I am a proud officer and I chose to stay put
till I make Kenya a secure Nation and Make the Service a better one where young
ones will grow up dreaming of joining it, not because of how fast one can
enrich himself or herself with ill gotten wealth but because it will be a
professional Police service, free from tribal outfits who can only see tribe
from an officer. This will be a service where recruitment will be free of bias
and promotion will be on of merit. I dare to dream…..!
