Even in emergency Kenya, escapades were never far

Whereas detention camps for those deemed to have taken the Mau oath or were seen to be sympathetic to its cause, had been created soon after the declaration of an emergency in 1952, it was not until June 1954 that the colonial government decided to create “Emergency Villages”in central Kenya.

This forced resettlement was intended to cut off Mau Mau supply lines. By the end of 1955, over a million Kikuyu were held within 800 such villages and this strategy had, for the most part, sealed the routes used to deliver food and arms to the fighters in the forest.

Initially, all members of each household were required to leave their homes in the early evening and assemble at their designated “kiaga” (fortified village). Each evening men, women, and children would march towards the “kiaga” carrying with them the beddings for the night which consisted of “matharara” (dry banana leaves).

In Kibichoi, there were several “kiagas” conveniently located at Gate-Iguru, Kibichoi, Mutate, to mention a few.

At sunrise, families would return to their homes and spend the day digging trenches, clearing bushes, and all manner of civil works under the strict supervision of “ngaati” (home guards) to make sure that they could not make contact with the Mau Mau.

Towards the end of 1955, the order for whole families to sleep in the “kiagas” was relaxed and only men were required to spend the night under confinement. During the night, the “ngaati” would patrol the regular villages for any man who might have been left behind.

Heavy fines were imposed on any man who was found outside of the “kiaga” ranging from a goat to imprisonment. If one was unlucky to be caught while the trigger-happy mzungu DC from Githunguri was on patrol, you would be shot dead as a warning to others who might be contemplating breaking the law.

There was one particularly notorious “ngaati” known as Njuuka wa Kibunyi. He was a ruthless, short man with an athletic build and his home was beyond the homesteads of Kimani wa Kiguongo and Dauti wa Muhia in Gate-Iguru.

He had a large swelling on his neck which added to his ogre looks and he was feared amongst the villagers. Notwithstanding, however, he had two wives and several children. As if that wasn’t enough, he had a weakness for other peoples’ wives.

During the night, Njuuka had formed the habit of breaking away from his patrol group and visiting the wives of men who were either in detention or in the “kiagas”, forcefully partaking of their favours. Fearing reprisals from Njuuka, and the public shame that would surely follow, the abused women kept quiet and suffered secretly.

But Njuuka was soon to meet his Waterloo, when one young lady from the Gichiri family who had suffered under his hands, decided enough was enough.

Returning to the young lady’s house for a repeat performance with his usual bravado, Njuuka proceeded with full despatch and when he was done, the lady extended an invitation to a well-brewed drink of muratina.

Thinking it was in appreciation of his good deed, accompanied by heaps of praise from the lady, Njuuka helped himself to copious amounts of the potent drink with the end result that he became totally inebriated and slept.

Even at daybreak, he was still asleep when the rest of the “ngaati” were reporting back to camp and the men were returning home for breakfast and their daily chores.

The young lady had planned the showdown to perfection, and she had alerted Njuuka’s younger wife, who was her agemate, and in turn she had whispered his misdemeanours to some of the “ngaati” who were only too happy to confirm the facts and mete out punishment for his transgressions.

Emerging from the hut in the early morning, looking very groggy, Njuuka could hardly believe his eyes as he was confronted by his two wives who were breathing fire and brimstone.

The ensuing conversation went like this:

Elder wife, “Eha, niaume na guku nja tumuone, atu tigite mucii agoka guku! (Where is he, let him come outside we see him. He has left us at home and come here!)

Younger wife, “Eha, etuite thenge ya bururi, munyamu uyu wake ni rungu uhaicaga ngiri ciothe!” ( Where is he, he has become the village he-goat, he has given his manhood to wild pigs!)

Of course, the ngaati were not to be left behind and one of them was heard to say, “Ni ukuona uria arutite wira, tukumuthinja iria noru.” (See how hard he has worked (pointing to the evidence), we shall fine him a fattened sheep!)

All this time Njuuka was extremely embarrassed and was trying to cover his nakedness amid the taunting from his wives and the crowd which had gathered to witness the spectacle of one who was not loved in the village.

Later in the day the ngaati gleefully fined Njuuka a ndurume (a fattened sheep) to appease for his wrongdoing.

To this day, there is a saying in Gate-Iguru, “Ukungururio ta Njuuka athiite kuhanda rungu.”

(You will be publicly shamed like Njuuka going to sow wild oats!).

And so it goes! I wish to acknowledge one of my regular readers Michael Kimani, from Kibichoi, for much of the material for this story.