Temper tantrums by the high and mighty often cause pain to families

Relatives of Albert Mbogori weep on July 16, 2008 as he was being escorted to the cells to begin a 14-month jail term for shooting Mr Edward Rahedi in a fit of road rage. PHOTO/ FILE | NATION

What you need to know:

  • In public displays of anger, the man or woman of high status wonders why people are slow to recognise them

Two of Nairobi’s most prominent lawyers have offices in the same building, but it is said that they do not like sharing the elevator because they are not the best of friends.

One is a licensed gun holder and the other has a nickname applied to those who do not use licensed firearms.

Those that know them intimately say that they once found themselves alone in a lift and just to remind his famous friend not to get too comfortable around him, one showed the other his gun.

“Mimi naweza kumaliza,” said the man with the gun.

The other, who claims his learned friend only showed him “a rusty old pistol” sneered in return and told him, “Yangu ni machine gun.”

A mere anecdote

Given that this is a mere anecdote, and the amount of work it would take to verify whether it is not just an old folk story told by young green lawyers fresh out of the Kenya School of Law in cold Karen, it would not be nice to name them.

But had the two lawyers been of the same bearing as Mr Albert Kubai Mbogori, the one who claimed to have a machine gun would not have had the chance to rush to his flashy red car and retrieve it from the boot.

He most probably would have been on the way to hospital, or lying dead or dying in a pool of blood.

The police have to be assured that those that want to be issued with a firearm for their personal safety can withstand the rush of blood to the head that precedes the decision to pull out a gun and shoot.

Often, the moment of mental calm that might occur in a heated situation makes the difference between life, death and the long hours a family might spend in a hospital’s emergency room.

Licensed gun holders are expected to handle the weapons with a lot of care and careful consideration.

They are, for example, not expected to show it off, place it on the table in a restaurant like the owners of expensive phones do, or use them to put an end to civil discussions.

The most recent classical case of misuse of a gun by a licensed holder involves the much publicised case against one Mr Albert Kubai Mbogori.

On December 1, 2007, Mr Mbogori was enjoying his favourite tipple at Legend Bar in Ongata Rongai.

At 7.30 pm, he was on his way home when he got involved in a minor accident at the traffic jam-prone Bomas of Kenya junction on Lang’ata Road.

There are conflicting stories about what followed but the uncontested facts are that there were six people in the other vehicle and there was a confrontation instead of the exchange of details or the involvement of a traffic police officer as usual.

A few minutes later, Mr Mbogori had pulled out his gun and a shot had gone off.

The bullet hit Mr Benjamin Edward Rahedi, a businessman who was headed home to his wife and child in the head. His family later gathered at Karen Hospital as doctors battled to save his life.

He died two months later and his killer was charged with murder.

But because Mr Mbogori had not planned to kill him, the charge was reduced to manslaughter.

A lengthy trial followed and on Thursday, July 16, Mr Mbogori was sentenced to 14 months in jail.

His lawyer, Prof Githu Muigai (the current Attorney-General) begged the judge to give him a non-custodial sentence given he was remorseful and had pleaded guilty. Mr Mbogori should have finished his sentence by now.

Before July 21, 2004, Prof Arthur Obel was associated more with hope and extending life with his drug, improbably named Pearl Omega, which he claimed could cure HIV/Aids.

His arrest in 2004 was based on an allegation that he had elected to use his gun to instill discipline in Mr Joseph Kyalo Kioko, the driver of a matatu plying the Eastleigh route christened The Rock.

Mr Kioko had blocked the good researcher’s way in the lane near Standard Chartered Bank and as is routine with matatu drivers, had pretended not to notice the important man in the blue Mercedes Benz behind him.

Prof Obel shot at the matatu driver twice, injured him on the head and damaged the windscreen of The Rock.

The researcher was later arrested at his house and a pistol, a shotgun and 19 bullets recovered at the house and at another at Loresho.

Academic arrogance

Prof Obel had been licensed to have the two guns in 1982.

In his defence, Prof Obel, who was commended for not showing academic arrogance during the trial, said he was rushing home to switch off a drug-making unit.

His mitigation before magistrate Wilson Muiruri was that he was an acclaimed medical researcher, a man of high status as well as a family man.

Nine witnesses testified in the case the State put against Prof Obel, but it was the last, Mr Amos King’ori, an investigations officer, who provided the crucial evidence.

Mr King’ori said none of the witnesses claimed to have seen Prof Obel firing his gun although they all said they heard a loud bang.

The investigators found no bullet heads and cartridges at the scene, said Mr King’ori, and a ballistic expert said the gun had not been used in the recent past.

“A special piece of cloth used for cleaning guns was recovered at one of the homes and after examination it was found to contain gun powder,” he told the court, adding that the cloth may have been used to destroy evidence.

Prof Obel walked away a free man on November 2, 2005, with the magistrate acquitting him of murder but finding him guilty of shooting and wounding the matatu driver.

He was fined Sh400,000 for the assault or one year in jail in default and another Sh100,000 for damages or four months imprisonment.

He was also ordered to surrender all his guns to the Firearms Licensing Office as his little temper tantrum had shown that he was not fit to carry a loaded weapon.

The magistrate’s view was that on that day, Prof Obel had behaved unlike the kind of person that should be allowed to carry a loaded gun, “like a cowboy and he should not escape punishment.”

There was also something about the cowboy in the manner in which Gidion Mike Mbuvi, also known by the moniker Sonko, romped to victory in the Makadara by-election.

Kenyans are now used to his ostentatious dressing — even in Parliament, where he now walks around with a glittering walking stick and shiny rings on each finger — and his emotional displays of anger when his constituents are robbed or his car clamped by council askaris.

“Sonko” introduced us to his often controversial ways a few days after his election, with Capital FM’s Leonard Saha alias DJ Leo, claiming the MP’s bodyguards beat him up in a road rage incident.

The DJ said he had slowed down to drive over a bump in Buruburu when the MP’s two armed guards jumped out of a vehicle and roughed him up, accusing him of blocking mheshimiwa’s car.

“Sonko” said the incident came to an end shortly after DJ Leo identified himself, an apology issued and they shook hands.

There is little surprise now when the MP is caught up in a public display of emotion.

While the guns they are licensed to carry symbolise the power they might have over other mortals, men and women in power can be intimidating, and their cases high profile, even if the weapon picked when the blood rushes to the head is a blunt sword, a stinging whip or even a stone.

In the case of Robert Karori Kamau versus Justice GBM Kariuki, the judge was accused of attempting to murder the complainant and causing grievous bodily harm by stabbing him with a sword after (you guessed it) a road rage incident.

Been intoxicated

The case had all the elements that journalists look for in a story; a man of high status, a man of a lower status as an accuser, blood spilt and a crude weapon employed by the man of high status in an alleged attempt to kill the other man.

The judge and his accuser had been involved in a minor accident on Lower Kabete Road on October 18, 2008.

An altercation had arisen, quite naturally, and Mr Kamau, who was later said in a medical report to have been intoxicated, was injured — he had not noticed that himself and it took a colleague to tell him.

He later drove himself to Spring Valley Police Station and reported the incident.

The reports caused a much-publicised arrest and detention of the judge over the weekend and he was arraigned in court and charged with the two offences three days after the incident.

Acquitting the judge on October 15, 2009 — almost a year to the day and amid claims the trial was rushed — the then Chief Magistrate Gilbert Mutembei said the police had completely bungled the case and acted on orders from their superiors.

A child who was a witness had been coached, the complainant had given contradicting information, other witnesses were unreliable and untrustworthy and the police had rushed to bring the judge in court before investigations were complete.

The judge was home and free, but his case is a reminder of the perils of road rage.

Often, in these public displays of anger, the man or woman of high status wonders how and why the man or woman of lower status is slow to recognise them given the number of times they have appeared in the media.

Thus, the first question asked of the man or woman of lower status will be a variant of: “Do you know who I am?”

Fidel Odinga, the Prime Minister’s son, was reported to have asked this question in an altercation with a matatu driver in the Westlands area.

The matatu crew was reported to have wrestled from him an “Elephant” stainless steel machete before the matter was reported to Muthangari Police Station and the driver locked up for the day.

Investigations over the next week should eventually yield the truth about the incident at the Village Market involving Kenya’s first and only Deputy Chief Justice, Nancy Baraza, and Ms Rebecca Kerubo, a security guard.