Raila confided he wanted to slaughter Kanu’s Jogoo

Many people who have interacted with National Super Alliance (Nasa) presidential flagbearer Raila Odinga say he is many personalities all wrapped in one.

Winston Churchill would have described him as a mystery, inside an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle.

In my career as a journalist, I have had four one-on-one interactions with Mr Odinga. On each occasion I found something new to learn about him.

The very first time to meet him was in August 1992. I was working with a media consultancy that was later converted to a daily.

At the time, we were working on a campaign booklet for Mr Kenneth Matiba, the Ford Asili presidential candidate in that year’s election.

LATER SPLIT

Mr Matiba and Mr Odinga’s father, Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, were in the original group who founded the pioneering opposition political party, the Forum for Restoration of Democracy (Ford), which later split.

At the time of our meeting with Mr Odinga, the Ford leadership had failed to agree on the method of picking a candidate to face the incumbent President Daniel Moi of Kanu. As a result, the original Ford had split into Jaramogi’s Ford Kenya and Matiba’s Ford Asili. The other leading opposition candidate in the 1992 elections was Mr Mwai Kibaki of the Democratic Party.

Mr Odinga was at the time a junior functionary in Ford Kenya holding the title of Deputy Director of Elections.

I had been assigned to interview him about his relationship with Mr Matiba, especially their role in fighting for multi-party democracy, and which had led to their detention by the Kanu government.

Because of the acrimonious manner the original Ford had split, my boss had not expected Mr Odinga to agree to talk to me. All the same, we decided to give it a try.

I called the listed general line for Ford Kenya headquarters, then at Agip House, and said I wanted to speak to Mr Odinga.

ROUND CYCLES

“Just hold on, I will put you through to him”, the operator said to my surprise.  I had expected to be taken round in circles.

Sure enough, he came on the line:

“Yes Kamau, what can I do for you?” he asked so calmly and casually as if to a friend he had known for years.

On informing him why I wanted to meet him, he asked, again so casually: “When and where do you want us to meet?”

“I come to your office even this afternoon?”

After a little pause he said: “This place is so busy with so many people popping in. Where are your offices? I can come wherever you are.”

I explained to him where our offices were on Ngong Road and told him I could pick him up at the nearby Ngong Hills Hotel at 2.30 pm.

PICK UP MR ODINGA
When I told my boss and colleagues that I was leaving to pick up Mr Odinga and bring him to the office, the question that appeared written on their faces was: “Are you kidding?”

At the time, Mr Odinga was a much feared name. He had been in and out of detention for seven out of 10 years between 1982 and 1992.

He was the kind of person you met those days and the next day you were trailed, or even picked up by police for interrogation.

A few minutes past 2.30 pm, Mr Odinga arrived at the venue with two aides. I was strategically seated at the entrance and he easily picked me out: “You must be Kamau”.

“Yes, I am”, I said as I rose to greet him.

“Do we have the interview here or at your office?” 

“Office is best,” I said.

“Let’s go then.”

NEVER PUT SUGAR
Once we drove in, Mr Odinga was relaxed, even asking his bodyguards to remain behind in the car as I ushered him in.

Perhaps he was doing it intentionally to demonstrate he may not be the devil-incarnate the Moi government had all along painted him to be.

I remember our secretary, Evelyne Ndoti, asking as she served him tea: “How many spoons of sugar?”

“Put three, you know I have been to ‘Hotel Moi’ (detention) all these years where they never put sugar in our porridge.”

The interview went on smoothly. Surprisingly, Mr Odinga had no grudge against Mr Matiba, who he alternatively kept referring to as “my comrade” and “my brother”.

I found Mr Odinga to be a man at ease with everybody and quick to make friends. But the interview didn’t end before he had revealed his other side – the conspiratorial one. It happened when I dropped the bombshell:

“Mr Odinga, this is the 10th anniversary of the 1982 coup attempt: Did you play any role in the coup?”

TELL THE TRUTH

After a long pause, he replied: “Well Kamau, let’s pass that question for now”. After another pause he said: “You know at this juncture I don’t want to tell the truth or lie to you, so let’s leave it”. A very loaded answer indeed!

***

My next encounter with Mr Odinga was in early 1994, this time at his request. His father, then leader of the official opposition and Ford Kenya chairman, had just passed on.

A leadership struggle had ensued pitting the party First Vice-Chairman Paul Muite against the Second Vice- Chairman Michael Kijana Wamalwa. Mr Odinga had thrown his weight behind Mr Wamalwa — but they would also fall out later.

At this meeting, Mr Odinga was at his conspiratorial best. He had some “dossier” on a top official of his party which he wanted published in the newspaper I was working for. I took the dossier to our consulting editor George Mbugguss who, after one short look and a quick puff on his cigarette, said:  “Of course, we can’t publish this. It will get us into a lot of trouble.”

***

My third meeting with Mr Odinga came towards the end of year 2000. His party, the National Development Party (NDP), had started a serious dalliance with the ruling party Kanu. The new-found relationship was first called “co-operation” before it was upgraded to “alliance” and then “merger”.

PARLIAMENT LIBRARY

My assignment was to ask him what this was all about. I found him at the Parliament library. He was due to leave for an international gathering and was researching on his speech. The man can do serious reading. He kept me waiting as he rummaged through foreign publications and some other literature, furiously taking notes in long-hand.

Later, as we settled at a quiet corner in the Parliament cafeteria, he ambushed me with the question: “Kamau, what happened to the dossier I gave you sometimes back? Anyway, just tell me what it is you want to know from me this time.”

I was surprised he could remember our encounter almost seven years earlier.

We talked about his new-found working relationship with President Moi and Kanu, and he was candid with his answers. However, at the end of the interview, he said in a conspiratorial tone: “This isn’t for publication, but there are many ways to skin a cat. To eat this Kanu Jogoo, you must first befriend it!”

True to his plot, two years down the line, NDP – popularly known as Tinga (tractor) – had been swallowed by the Kanu jogoo, which would later suffer massive constipation and lose its 39-year grip on power.

***

My last one-on-one meeting with Mr Odinga was in July 2013. We were doing a story on 100 days of Jubilee Government in power and I suggested getting the opposition leader’s views.

Like with my first encounter, my colleagues thought Mr Odinga would be hesitant to grant an interview because the newspaper I worked for at the time was associated with the top Jubilee leadership.

But he had no qualms talking to me. This time round, Mr Odinga was at his patriotic best, giving an objective analysis of where Jubilee had got it wrong.

UNITE THE COUNTRY

Then I asked him: “Since almost half the country voted for you, is it worthy to consider working with the government to unite the country?” “No,” he replied. “There is a concept called loyal opposition. That’s what we’re going to be”.

And was he satisfied with Supreme Court ruling that he lost the 2013 election? “No. It is only that I didn’t want to be Shylock and demand my pound of flesh at whatever cost.”
Then I asked: “It looks like the Kenyattas and Odingas are family friends despite difference in politics?”

“Yes, we are. In our Kisumu family home, there is a room we call ‘Kenyatta’ to this day. It was reserved for Mzee Jomo Kenyatta and decorated to his taste by my father.”

In contrast, an opposition leader walked in during the interview. Told which media house I was from, he made a face and walked out without a word!