Which ‘hustler’ is Ruto helping?

I sat across a low coffee table from the man who was brewing a cup of herbal tea and honey for himself. His fingers were like stubby sausages; I noticed because he had spent a lot of time wagging one of them two millimetres from my nose. The rest of him was built like that too: shortish but round, not fat, with tremendous speed and energy. He was an Army general and very angry.

My friend David Okwembah and I had pissed royally pissed off this ox general with a story that Okwembah had written claiming that this man had been promoted because his wife was the sister of the Chief of Defence Forces’ wife.

“You said my wife got me a job!” he was blowing steam from his broad nostrils.

I crunched his biscuits noisily and slurped on hot, sweet mixed tea and calmly explained that while I had not written the article, I was responsible for the decision to publish it; my job was not to write, my job was to take responsibility for everything published in the Sunday Nation.

“You can delegate authority but never responsibility,” he nodded his massive head vigorously with the gleeful air of a general, who had finally cornered a pesky, down-at-the-heel editor.

So I learnt two things that day: the brutal lesson that my boss was teaching me about being an editor. What you publish is utterly your call, but it is also under your nose that they will wag their sausage fingers when they are unhappy with it. And then there is that military lesson, it does not matter whether you are on leave or in your hospital bed; if things go belly up, it is your fault.

Deputy President William Ruto is, as they say, a heartbeat away from the presidency of Kenya. He is the heir and spare all rolled into one. Constitutionally, if the President is for whatever reason unavailable, he steps in, no ifs, no buts. The power and dignity of that office does not depend on whether people like the shape of your nose or not, it flows from the Constitution, the same fount from which flows the well of legitimacy that nourishes the entire government. And Mr Ruto is taken very seriously, even by those who don’t like him, as a clever, indefatigable politician for whom the presidency is his to lose.

But in recent days, Mr Ruto has gone through a strange loss of composure. The complaints about being sidelined have invited a broad variety of opinion. There are those who think that he is playing the victim as a clever strategy to win public sympathy. That, as deputy president, he is allegedly being mistreated is hardly news. Many Kenyan vice-presidents are badly treated by the President’s inner curia. They shouldn’t be, but they are. 

Former President Moi was treated like something smelly that the cat dragged in by the so-called Kiambu Mafia. Former President Mwai Kibaki was ill-treated and finally fired. 

I suppose what the public is looking for is some character, a Mike Pence type of composure, putting on a strong face and getting on with your duty even when people are looking at you badly.

The nature of responsibility is such that explanations mean nothing, especially in high office. Once you are elected or appointed, you get the job done or accept failure and retreat to private life. You are in office to find solutions to problems, not complain about them.

Which is why I think Mr Ruto and the President should probably patch things up and serve their term until it’s time for the Deputy President to start his campaigns.

To paraphrase his sentiment, he’s not squatter in Jubilee or government; he’s an equal shareholder with President Kenyatta. He’s as responsible for the successes of Jubilee, and failures thereof, as the President. The concept of him as an outsider or underdog is far-fetched. He’s the Deputy President, an office with a lot of dignity and authority. Of course if they have irreparably differed on matters of principle with his partner, that is a different matter.

Mr Ruto should be treated with the dignity due to his office. Equally he should conduct himself in keeping with the requirements of his high office and the need to preserve the image of the Republic. After all, his is the second most powerful office in the land. It’s not so much about the man as the office: there is diplomatic etiquette and protocols to be observed when he travels; there are privileges and protections to be extended to the incumbent.

The company he keeps should reflect well on the office. The interventions he makes should be for the benefit of those hustlers he says he represents, not those of a neighbouring country. If there’s investment to be had, whether Turk or Moroccan, it should go to Machakos, or Elgeyo-Marakwet.

This is a deep-breath moment for Mr Ruto and his campaign, a time to pause and reflect on this Ugandan debacle and recognise it for what it is: a series of goofs and unforced errors.

And remember the lesson of the sausage-fingered Army man: responsibility can never be delegated — or usurped.

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