It's Our Turn to Eat (41 page)

John's permanent return coincided with the publication of this book, which was immediately deemed ‘too hot to handle' by Kenya's Asian booksellers, scarred by memories of Moi-era libel suits. Their refusal to stock the book is a sure indication of how jittery Nairobi
feels below a show of frenetic normality. The booksellers' boycott–a form of government censorship by proxy–has ensured that
It's Our Turn to Eat
has become the most pirated book in Kenyan history, with a bootleg PDF file of the manuscript being passed between readers' groups. This greedy appropriation of more than three years' work dismays me, but perhaps there is something poetically fitting about a story of illicitly recorded confidences and website leaks being filched, in its turn, via the internet.

John has been served with a summons by his old nemesis Chris Murungaru, who is suing for defamation. But the fury of those whose money-making schemes he sabotaged remains his main concern. The March 2009 assassinations, a stone's throw from State House, of two human rights campaigners who had dared publicise more than a thousand extrajudicial executions by the police was a sinister reminder that those who challenge the Kenyan establishment often court a death sentence. John takes extreme care, never moving alone. His life will never be entirely free of the fear of the assassin's bullet. ‘John's a tragic figure, in a way,' a Kenyan television executive told me, ‘because those who admire him cannot protect him, and those who hate him have very long memories.'

A polariser of opinions, a man destined to be either adored or reviled, John knows his path will never be ordinary. Sometimes he fantasises about a conversation with his old boss, in which he tells Kibaki to his face: ‘You never believed in it, did you?' But he knows it will never occur, and that what he did, in the eyes of even former friends, will always verge on the unforgivable, exposing a capacity for cool calculation they struggle to accept. ‘If your mother is naked, you throw a blanket on her, you don't call the neighbours round to have a look,' a Kikuyu acquaintance told me on my last trip to Kenya, capturing that sense of distaste. ‘The hardest part,' acknowledges John, ‘has been coming to terms with the betrayal of my tribe, my class.'

American writer Samantha Power coined the term ‘upstander'–as opposed to ‘bystander'–for those who decide where to draw a line and then refuse to cross it. Most Africans will face, at some point in their lives, a John Githongo moment of their own when they must
choose whether to challenge The Way Things Have Always Been Done Around Here, or to acquiesce. The dilemma goes to the heart of the puzzle of what it is to be a modern young African, forcing each individual to decide who he is and where his allegiance lies. The student who told me, ‘I want to live in a country where it doesn't matter who my father is and where my family comes from,' was speaking for many Kenyans, but not all.

A crystallisation of that wrenching quandary, John's story attests to the qualities so often required by those who lead the way in breaking with the past: an intransigence verging on egomania, a literalism that is almost a form of foolishness. ‘The worst thing I've been called is “naïve”,' says John. ‘I accept that. Only a naïve person would take an anti-corruption job after twenty-four years of systemic corruption. But that's what you need. I went in naïve and I want to stay that way.'

When I think of John's magnificently foolhardy attempt to bring down a system, an image comes to mind. It is of the carrion-eating marabou storks that nest in the scruffy thorn trees clustered around Nairobi's Nyayo sports stadium, on the airport road. ‘
Nyayo
' means ‘footsteps' in Kiswahili, and the incoming Moi adopted it as his motif in order to reassure nervous Kenyans he would not deviate from Kenyatta's path. When it came to grand corruption this was certainly the case, and it has continued to be true under Kibaki. As sleaze has flourished, Kenya's poverty has deepened and the slums near the stadium have spread, along with the mounds of rotting rubbish on which the storks depend. Politicians, foreign aid officials and World Bank spokesmen continue to talk up Kenya's prospects, but each year I notice that there are more of these bald-headed scavengers perched above the honking
matatus
and diesel-snorting exhausts, a quiet, tangible sign that inequality is growing, not diminishing. Occasionally one will launch itself into flight, dark wings whooshing in a heart-stopping Nosferatu moment, fleshy pink throat sac swinging obscenely. But mostly they stand like frozen sentinels on the uppermost branches of the acacia, shoulders hunched, heads buried, bearing grim witness to the ingrained cynicism of an increasingly unjust society.

The John Githongos of this world have their work cut out.

Colin Bruce is no longer World Bank country director for Kenya. He left soon after the election crisis, in a swirl of controversy. An internal World Bank memo, leaked to the
Financial Times,
revealed that even as one election monitoring team after another ruled the polls deeply flawed, Bruce was assuring his bosses in Washington that his landlord was the legitimate president of Kenya. A botched attempt to broker a deal between opposition and government–rejected by both sides–triggered criticism from across the political spectrum. His career does not appear to have suffered permanent damage, however. In June 2008 he was appointed Director for Strategy and Operations in the Africa Region, overseeing World Bank funding for the entire continent. Shortly before his reassignment, the World Bank's Compliance Advisor Ombudsman issued a memo to all Africa staff which named no names but had clearly been prompted by circumstances in Nairobi. ‘I would like to remind staff of the need to avoid situations where potential conflicts of interest may arise (or be perceived to arise), or where the Bank may be exposed to possible reputational risk,' it said. ‘With that in mind, the Region will not support international staff who are on assignment in country offices in entering into rental contracts with a counterparty who is (or is closely related to) a member of a client government, or has a well known affiliation with any major political party in a client country.'

Retirement has not softened Sir Edward Clay. Ever alert to institutional hypocrisy, he follows African politics closely and is a vigorous writer of letters to British newspapers. ‘Like diabetes in people of my age, it is perhaps a case of late-flowering or late-onset iconoclasm.' His frankness has prevented him building a post-ambassadorial career in the civil
service. He was offered a job on the Foreign Office's Chevening Scholarships programme, which gives grants to overseas students, on condition he signed a gagging order which would have made it impossible to express opinions on current affairs. The offer was withdrawn after he publicly criticised the dropping of the inquiry into BAE, leaving him acutely aware of what he calls ‘a symmetry of ostracism' on the part of both the Kenyan and the British governments. In the course of a BBC
Hard Talk
discussion with justice minister Martha Karua in 2007, he discovered he had been made
persona non grata
in Kenya. During that exchange, Karua referred to his supposed real estate holdings in Kenya, often cited by the NARC elite as the reason for his interest in the country. Sir Edward owns no property in Kenya. He remains popular with ordinary Kenyans, and his remarks are often splashed across the local papers. A
matatu
baptised ‘Edward Clay' has been spotted plying the roads of western Kenya.

 

Caroline Mutoko is still at Kiss FM. Her morning broadcasts during the election crisis, urging listeners to refrain from violence, take care of their neighbours and return to work, were regarded by many listeners as providing the moral leadership the nation failed to receive from its politicians.

 

Conrad Akunga came close to packing in his Mzalendo website. ‘I almost gave up. I'd spent five years being told, “Your vote is your voice and it will be heard.” Then you queue for three kilometres in the sun, and all for what?' But he rallied, and is working on technical improvements. ‘As long as those guys are there taking salaries, they are answerable to me. I'm their boss, not the other way round.'

 

Hussein Were was held up by armed men while entering his compound in August 2007. He escaped his attackers, whose motives remain unclear, by driving through a security barrier at top speed, shaking off a gunman clinging to his side mirror.

 

On a sunny afternoon on 22 December 2007, John Githongo's former fiancée, Mary Muthumbi, married land surveyor James Ndirangu at a Catholic centre on a green hill in Dagoretti. The bride wore an ivory-coloured silk dress and her hair up. A matron of honour, four bridesmaids, five little flower girls and one embarrassed page hovered in attendance.

Moody Awori–Vice-president in first NARC government

Colin Bruce–World Bank country director 2005–08

Edward Clay–British High Commissioner to Kenya 2001–05

Makhtar Diop–World Bank country director 2001–05

Alfred Getonga–Presidential aide in first NARC government

Dan Gikonyo–Physician to President Mwai Kibaki

Lisa Karanja–Former colleague of John Githongo, now runs TI-Kenya

Jomo Kenyatta–First president of independent Kenya, died 1978

Uhuru Kenyatta–Jomo Kenyatta's politician son

Mwai Kibaki–President of Kenya

Amos Kimunya–Lands minister in first NARC government, later appointed finance minister, suspended over controversial sale of Grand Regency hotel

Daniel arap Moi–Kenya's second president, in power for twenty-four years, retired in 2002

David Munyakei–Central Bank clerk who blew the whistle on Goldenberg scandal

Chris Murungaru–Minister for internal security in first NARC government. Dropped from cabinet in 2005

Kiraitu Murungi–Justice minister in first NARC government, he ‘stepped aside' after leaking of Githongo dossier. Energy minister in current coalition

Francis Muthaura–Head of Kenya's civil service David Mwiraria–Finance minister in first NARC government, he ‘stepped aside' after leaking of Githongo dossier

Raila Odinga–former Kibaki ally, went into opposition in 2005. Probable winner of 2007 elections. Prime minister in current coalition government

Justice Aaron Ringera–Head of the Kenya Anti-Corruption Commission

George Saitoti–Education minister in first NARC government, now minister for internal security

askari
–Kiswahili, ‘guard'.

boda boda
–Kiswahili, ‘taxi bike'.

DfID–Britain's Department for International Development, set up in 1997 by Tony Blair's New Labour government to tackle poverty in the developing world. Before that, the Foreign Office was responsible for aid.

GEMA–Gikuyu, Embu, Meru Association. Set up in 1971 to promote the interests of the Mount Kenya ethnic communities, it won Kenyatta's disapproval and was disbanded in 1980. GSU–General Service Unit. Elite Kenyan paramilitary force, responsible for internal security, made up of highly trained police officers and special forces. Often deployed to quell civil unrest.

KACA–Kenya Anti-Corruption Authority. Created by president Moi at the donors' insistence, it was ruled unconstitutional by the Kenyan High Court in January 2001.

KACC–Kenya Anti-Corruption Commission. KACA's more robust replacement, was formed in May 2003. Headed by Justice Aaron Ringera.

KANU–Kenya African National Union. Political party which ruled for nearly forty years. Largely made up of Luos and Kikuyus, KANU initially faced a challenge from KADU, a federalist party set up by the smaller tribes. In 1982, Kenya became a one-party state, a situation which lasted until December 1991, when the constitution was altered at the donors' insistence.

kijana
–Kiswahili, ‘boy', ‘my lad'.

kitu kidogo
–Kiswahili, ‘a little something', i.e. a bribe. KNCHR–Kenya National Commission on Human Rights: independent watchdog set up in 2002 by an act of parliament.

matatu
–Kiswahili, ‘taxi bus'.

mzee
(plural
wazee
)–Kiswahili, ‘old man'.

mzungu
(plural
wazungu
)–Kiswahili, ‘white person'.

NARC–National Rainbow Coalition. Coalition of parties which toppled president Daniel arap Moi in the 2002 elections. It originally included Luo leader Raila Odinga's Liberal Democratic Party and fielded Mwai Kibaki as presidential candidate. ODM–Orange Democratic Movement, opposition party set up in 2005 by Raila Odinga after spearheading a successful campaign against a new constitution proposed by Kibaki.

shamba
–Kiswahili, ‘farm'.

wabenzi–
Slang, a member of the new African ruling class.

wananchi
(singular

mwananchi
)–Kiswahili, ‘citizens', ‘the people'.

wazungu
–See
mzungu
.

This book is based on a score of interviews and conversations with John Githongo in London, Oxford and Guatemala City between February 2005 and December 2008.

President Mwai Kwibaki and serving or former ministers David Mwiraria, Kiraitu Murungi and Chris Murungaru were all asked for interviews but none of them took up the offer.

Particular thanks go to film-maker Peter Chappell, for so generously sharing his insights and patient moral support as we both pursued our tantalising prey.

Andrew Hill was a constant sounding board. Kwamchetsi Makokha, Juliette Towhidi, Mutiga Murithi and my father, Professor Oliver Wrong, were all rigorous readers of the draft manuscript, alerting me to inconsistencies, errors and omissions. Mark Ashurst was a steady source of advice and encouragement.

In Nairobi, I owe Andrea Bohnstedt, Mahmud Abdulla, Kiki Channa, Eliot Masters, Susan Linnee, Ilona Eveleens, Koert Lindyer, Marina Rini, Massimo Alberizzi and Andrew England heartfelt thanks for beds in their homes, places at their tables and seats in their cars.

I thank Professor John Lonsdale for sharing his historical expertise, Professor Mutu wa Gethoi for his insights into Kikuyu culture, Professor Paul Collier for his political and economic analysis and Sheetal Kapila and Pheroze Nowrojee for their legal advice. I'm specially indebted to David Cornwell, better known as John le Carré, for his tactful recommendations and wise councel.

Apart from the Kenyans consulted and quoted in this book's pages–many of whom will certainly disagree with my views–I owe thanks to John Kamau, John Ngumi, Mary Mwirindia, Eric Wainaina,
Benson Riungu, Waithaka Waihenya and Chand Bahal, owner of Bookstop, the best bookshop in Nairobi.

The Ford Foundation, whose Kenyan branch has played a pioneering role in the country's fight against corruption, provided funding that made the three years I took to write the book less of a financial strain than they would otherwise have been.

Julian Harty devoted far too much of his precious time to tackling my computer problems. Michael Holman nudged me to realise my original idea.

But the book would never have seen the light of day had it not been for my commissioning editor, Mitzi Angel, who sadly moved on to a new publisher before the manuscript was complete, but did so much to improve it before she left.

Finally, my biggest practical debt remains to Joseph Githinji, whose thirty-year-old red-velvet-lined Volvo and illuminating conversation have kept me cheerful and on the road during my time in Nairobi.

MICHELA WRONG
London, March 2009