Fred Ngatia: A lawyer for the elite, anchored in faith and free from vanity

Senior Counsel Fred Ngatia during an interview at his office in Upper Hill, Nairobi on December 17, 2024.

Photo credit: Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

As far as institutional memories and libraries go, none is more storied than the life of Fred Ngatia, Senior Counsel. He has represented anyone who is anyone, having been the lead counsel for former President Uhuru Kenyatta in three presidential election petitions at the Supreme Court, and the late Vice President George Saitoti when he challenged his prosecution over the Sh158 billion Goldenberg scandal.

But he, Ngatia, considers himself more of an audience avatar for the downtrodden, where, for instance, he, pro bono, took the Francis Karioko Muruatetu case at the Supreme Court, leading to its declaration as unconstitutional to impose a mandatory death sentence on convicts.

Not one to toot his horn, Ngatia is deeply anchored in his faith, which steadies his ship when life’s storms beat against it.

“Life can be vanity if you are not careful,” he says. With over 40 years of experience in the legal profession, buttressed by a Master of Laws degree from the London School of Economics (which shaped Kenya’s case in the Ilemi Triangle dispute and added a 9,000 square-kilometre hump to the map of Kenya at the border with Sudan); and a Master's degree in Applied Philosophy, he seems still as hungry for success as the boy who started out in Nyeri, decades ago.

At 68, what keeps him going?

“I go to the gym between 5am and 6am," he says.

At his unassuming office at Nairobi's 316 Upper Hill Chambers, you quickly learn the Ngatia dogma: he eschews the self. He keeps himself to himself. He prefers to demonstrate his faith through his actions—and actions have always spoken more eloquently than words—like supporting the Nairobi Hospice and as a tradition, having a Christmas lunch with them, which he has done for years. “I buy packages for every family—dry foodstuffs which they carry home,” he says.

They wanted to rename the hospice after him, but no, he said, name it after St Jude. And so they did. Of course, they did.

Growing up in Nyeri, was this your dream, practising law?

No. I wanted to be a pilot.

What happened?

I became a cadet after the fourth form, just before the results were released. I had done very well. When my mother realised I had joined the cadet, she couldn’t take it and thought it was Brigadier Matu, who passed away years ago, who took me to the military—he and my mother were agemates.

So, she confronted him, ‘Brigadier, what nonsense is this? This child has a first division.’ Brigadier was confused, which child? And that is how I was called out from the parade and given marching orders out of Lanet.

Then what happened?

I went to Form Five and Six. I only did the cadet for about two weeks, haha!

What do you remember most about growing up in Nyeri?

It was very nice. The first thing was merit—it was part of us, and merit meant everything. It didn’t matter the social status you had, what mattered was what you could do, because you could come from a humble family and be a top surgeon. All you needed was a merit-based evaluation system.

Has that remained true up to now?

Not really. So many people your age who are brilliant do not get any opportunity. During our times, it was the exact opposite: a brilliant child would go anywhere. The sky was the limit.

Were you that brilliant child? I read somewhere that you were among the top six students in Kenya, that you’ve never had to apply for a job so to speak.

Law required you to get very high grades. The University of Nairobi used to admit only about 50 students so you can imagine how hard it was.

What is the most important decision you made that has sustained you in your career?

Merit. Hard work, perseverance, resilience—these are the things that made me.

You’ve represented the who’s who of the who’s who—does that change you, especially if you are a young upshot lawyer?

I have also represented the poorest people. Don’t forget the death row convicts in the Muruatetu case. There were about 4,000 convicts, all convicted and sentenced to death, a death penalty that was unconstitutional but nobody had challenged.

And I did that case pro bono, and since then, all those convicts have had resentencing and most of them are back home because a death penalty should not be given as a matter of law, but as a matter of judicial discretion—it should be in the law, yes, it is very constitutional, but when administered, it should be left to the judge, depending on the gravity of the offence.

Why was that case so important to you?

It gives everybody a second chance. Many people get into the wrong side of the law, and once they have committed murder out of passion, or revenge, but they get a second chance, they reform.

Because the law said convict, sentence, death, that stood in the way of the second chance. We were a very archaic country, other countries had moved away from that tradition, so when I did that case, Kenya became among the civilised countries in the world.

Who gave you a second chance that you remember to date?

Virtually everybody we have met gives us a second chance [chuckles].

You are being evasive and politically correct…

You know, the founding father of the nation [Jomo Kenyatta] introduced a bursary fund which was a safety net for children who performed well in school but whose parents had no means {financial}.

Senior Counsel Fred Ngatia during an interview at his office in Upper Hill, Nairobi on December 17, 2024.

Photo credit: Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

This was immediately after the struggle for independence and many parents were coming from the forest, particularly in Nyeri, and that was the bursary scheme that educated me. So that was a second chance.

Does it still exist?

It doesn’t. That is the unfortunate thing about your generation [chuckles]

Speaking of, you speak greatly about your Christian faith. God is considered a father, but fathers also disappoint. Has God ever disappointed you?

No. If anything, I have disappointed God. He will never disappoint you.

Why is your faith so important?

Because without it then I don’t have a true north. I would be just like any plant out there.

Was this a personal decision you made or was the decision made for you on account of your upbringing in a Catholic home?

The truth is that the catholic faith, when it is correctly understood, is not something you follow because other people are doing so, it should be a rational decision.

That is exemplified in Thomas Moore, a scholar and lawyer who sacrificed his life so that he wouldn’t follow the king who wanted to be recognised as the head of the Church of England.

If you follow such great philosophers, you find that the Catholic faith is a faith that you will be deep in, because of rational thought, not dogma.

What aspect of faith do you struggle with?

None.

What do you question your faith about?

You shouldn’t be questioning faith because you are not in a position to be really questioning faith unless there are some aspects of yourself you are not comfortable with.

For example, you find somebody who has lost a relative questioning God about death. These are the kind of things people struggle with but death is part of life, it is the gateway to eternity.

We should be embracing eternity because that is where we are ordained to go. We are not ordained to be part of the world, but eternity.

Have you made peace with death?

You don’t need to make peace with death because you can’t make peace with yourself, it is part of you. Good health is part of you, bad health is part of you. So are calamities.

What has been the biggest loss of your life?

My sister.

Younger?

Older. We were very close. But these are the things that shake you as a human being until you rationalise them.

How did you move on from such an experience?

If you are deep in faith there is nothing you can’t come back from when you appreciate the mortality of life. You release someone to eternity.

For example, at the hospice, these are terminally ill patients, and most people would be like, ‘Oh they are terminally ill,’ but aren’t we all terminally ill?

I tell people that my friends in the hospice are at peace because they have been told that they are terminally ill and they have started their preparations.

We who are outside the hospice are really the patients because you find a 20-something-year-old say he is rushing to Naivasha for a drink or two, but two kilometres into the journey he has an accident and passes on.

Senior Counsel Fred Ngatia during an interview at his office in Upper Hill, Nairobi on December 17, 2024.

Photo credit: Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

The person at the hospice is taking his time to cross the road, and outlives him, and another—so who is the terminally ill patient here? [chuckles]

It's a good hypothesis. What is the one question you are asking yourself at this juncture of your life?

The problems facing the country, like the absence of the Independent and Electoral Bounadaries Commission (IEBC). If anything were to happen, there would be a vacuum and nature abhors a vacuum. We are playing Russian roulette, so we should never have anything that can slide this country into a vacuum.

This is a curveball question but I’ll ask it anyway. Your image is carefully curated, people talk about you, but you rarely talk about yourself. Was this by design or happenstance?

Not curated, you are just who you are. It’s a personality trait. I am a very private person, just like how you have done your hair, haha! It’s something I value and cherish; I don’t want to talk about what car I drive and whatnot, I regard that as vanity.

What have you become better at saying no to lately?

I don’t say no to anything as a tradition. I evaluate every request and make an informed decision.

What season of your life are you in now?

We are trying to run away from the philosophy where everything is self—where man is at the centre. This is a utilitarian philosophy, like your Constitution for example, which says, I am entitled to this, and this, and this, as if you are the centre of the universe.

This is what guides a lot of American approaches to life, and some of the top-notch judges in America have advanced this utilitarian philosophy.

I belong to the philosophy of man being of several faculties—the self and the soul, a totality, all towards one kingdom of the creator.

What advice would you give younger people, not just about life, but about career?

The lack of patience, dedication, and persistence prevent young people from achieving their potential. Fortitude is a virtue because you need it. So is wisdom. You cannot get these things by rushing from one place to another.

Young people are in a rush to do things overnight, hence the temptation to do drugs because they are disappointed that perhaps their mothers did not give them Sh200 to go to Carnivore. And so the disappointment leads to them doing worse things.

Young people should remember there is a time for everything. They must build themselves, invest in themselves, and persevere because we do things brick by brick. Is this the last question? [chuckles]

Just one more. What is a misconception people have about you?

Most people know me for who I am.

Which is?

What you see is what you get. You won’t get me in a pub and I have no qualms about it. You won’t find me in bars or around parties, but you will get me here in my office, or a library, or the university teaching philosophy.

I am closing my laptop, but if you could boil down your years on earth into a single statement what would you say?

Life can be vanity unless you are very careful. Be close to your creator whatever you perceive your creator to be, because without that you will be lacking a strong pillar of support.

I tell my friends at the hospice that those who have listened and also acted, you cannot cure cancer on medication because it is beyond medication, but you can have hope if you go to your creator and then the creator is also supported by medical support, and the more you see that the more you see survival rates from five to 10 to 15 years. Stick to your creator.

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