By OMBOKI MONAYO.
As I watched the unfolding events around the Monday demos on my phone, I could not help but remember a similar but darker and deadlier period in our country’s history.
Scenes and images of the Kenyatta Family farm invasion, the attack on Spectre International offices, and the police lobbing teargas at protesters were like the remake of a much older, but scary movie that I witnessed in real-time.
It all took me back to January 2008.
While the controversy over the presidential polls raged, we were celebrating the election of Mellitus Mugabe Were, on an ODM ticket.
Due to the split between three Kikuyu candidates, the non-Kikuyu voters had managed to elect one of their own as MP, something which was seen as an impossibility prior to the polls.
During those days Embakasi was one giant constituency with over 240,000 registered voters.
Some Gen Z readers reading this piece were probably in primary school by then.
As the killings in Naivasha made their way into the live feeds of the TV stations, teargas enveloped the high-profile demonstrators like Raila and Ruto on the city streets.
We watched the TV screens from the safety of our Eastlands abodes, transfixed by the drama unfolding before our shocked eyes.
The news hit us like a thunderbolt. Where’s home had been invaded in a morning attack and he was dead in a rapidly widening pool of blood, shot multiple times by unknown assailants.
For many of those that voted for him, it was a shattering end to the dream we had for a new political dispensation in the constituency, the city, and the country at large.
Within the neighborhood, it was generally termed a Mungiki hit, but no one dared speak to the press or police about it.
It was just whispered in conversations around the bars and marketplaces and then quickly forgotten.
The fellow allegedly behind the hit is a big man to date.
I’ve never looked at city politics the same way ever again.
A few days later, the Ainamoi MP David Kimutai lost his life at the hands of police officer Andrew Maoche after an altercation at a roadblock.
Unfortunately for many innocent people in the region, the officer was from my ethnic community.
The killings triggered further rioting and more death in parts of the republic as more innocent victims were caught up in the crossfire.
Some did not make it out of the hotspots. Many of those who did bear the physical and emotional scars to date.
From that time, walking around the alleys and estates became a delicate task, as people I used to share a drink with would now challenge me to identify my tribe.
Suspicion and hatred became part of our daily language as we learned to associate with those who shared our views.
A few fights broke out between groups in parts of the city from time to time, but the police were always around to break them up before they became bloodbaths.
Muggings also grew into the order of the day in the mad season it was.
Neighbors became enemies as strangers became friends.
An elderly friend of mine has never gathered the courage to revisit his farm which was invaded by a group partly consisting of the young men he used to assist as a dean of students in the academic institution where he worked.
He told me he owes his life to God who touched one of the young men to alert him of the impending raid.
He and his wife drove out of his palatial home just before the raiders arrived.
Another who is a medic quit attending church services because he identified a fellow congregation member guiding the attackers to his home.
His family barely made it to safety on the night of the attack.
The current poisonous political atmosphere is not very different from that of early 2008 before the coalition government peace deal brought the country back from the brink of full-blown civil war.
As our courageous police officers go about their duty which is to secure the lives and property of Kenyans, it is important for them to remember the demonstrators are also entitled to express themselves, albeit in a peaceful and orderly manner.
Caution, discipline, decorum, and absolute professionalism are required for every particular action, with an eye on the possible consequences.
All it takes is a simple slip, a simple high-profile killing, and the heady excitement, the terror and the deadly thrill of that fateful, dark time of 2008 will be back with a vengeance.
I sincerely pray for restraint and wisdom among the contending parties.
May the various leaders use words that will unite and heal the country, and refrain from fiery, jingoistic rhetoric that only deepens the divisions between us and even reopens old wounds.
National peace is simply too expensive to be traded for temporary victory or short-term political gains.
Mungu ashikilie pepo zote nchini.
Footnote: The writer is a freelance journalist and communications consultant.
