Adieu Kimani Waiyaki: The radical Kenyatta kidnapped from Uganda

The raid was swift, brutal, and calculated. Waiyaki was ripped from his sleep, subjected to an invasive search, and whisked away to the dark heart of Uganda’s forests. There, the torment and interrogation began. Waiyaki was stripped naked, humiliated, and tortured by both Amin’s and Kenyatta’s interrogators who accused him of plotting to overthrow Kenyatta’s government. By the time he was brought to Nairobi, he was broken down mentally and physically. Whatever they did to him, Waiyaki’s left-wing political career came to an end. By the time he died in early March aged 99, Waiyaki had long been forgotten.

Before joining KPU upon its formation in 1966, Waiyaki had been ousted from his influential role as Nairobi Town Clerk, a position that granted him considerable control over the capital. Suspended by Lawrence Sagini, the then Local Government Minister, Waiyaki had previously worked alongside Nairobi’s first African mayor, Charles Rubia, playing a pivotal role in the Africanisation of the city’s workforce. Ironically, his tenure was short-lived, and he was soon replaced by D. M. Whiteside, marking an unexpected reversal in the city’s leadership transition.

Waiyaki found himself entangled in the fierce power struggle between Oginga Odinga and Tom Mboya—a battle of political supremacy that made it nearly impossible for an Odinga loyalist to steer the city’s affairs. Consequently, in January 1965, he was unceremoniously dismissed on the grounds of lacking “administrative experience.” Sagini, the Local Government Minister, defended the decision, asserting that the council had voted against Waiyaki’s confirmation as Town Clerk, sealing his fate in the shifting tides of Kenya’s political landscape.

Ngala Obok, speaking in Parliament, attributed Waiyaki’s downfall to a simmering supremacy battle between him and Nairobi’s Mayor, Charles Rubia. The claim of inexperience, however, did not go unchallenged. In a pointed rebuttal, Martin Shikuku took the minister to task, quipping: “Arising from the Minister’s sarcastic replies… is he aware that even he himself, when first appointed Minister, had no experience?” His remark underscored the irony of the dismissal, exposing the political machinations at play.

In 1966, an MP posed a question to Charles Njonjo’s office: why had Waiyaki not been considered for a position in the judiciary? The response, delivered by Finance Minister James Gichuru, was curt—Waiyaki had simply not applied.

By the time Odinga formed KPU, Waiyaki was already on a quest to rein in the excesses of the Kenyatta administration. He was swiftly appointed as the party’s administrative secretary, a role that tasked him with spearheading the establishment of KPU branches across the country. However, his efforts met relentless resistance. The Registrar of Societies—operating under Attorney General Njonjo—systematically rejected most of the registration applications. Njonjo claimed in Parliament that they contained nothing more than “bogus” addresses.

Born into the esteemed Waiyaki lineage, attended Jacob’s School, Thogoto (later Musa Gitau), before moving to Mbarara High School in Uganda. His academic journey took him across continents—from the University of Cape Town to Goshen College for an Arts degree. He later earned an MA in Political Science from Northwestern University, Chicago, and pursued further studies at the University of Pennsylvania before qualifying as a barrister in the UK.

It was after he joined KPU that he became a marked man. Even before Kenyatta had cracked down on KPU, Waiyaki was already in detention. The allegations leveled against him were severe. A detention order signed by J.R. Oswald accused him of plotting to overthrow the government, engaging in subversive propaganda, soliciting foreign funds to destabilise Kenya, and conspiring to incite guerrilla warfare. He was also alleged to have aided the distribution of seditious literature that urged armed resistance against the state. Kimani was not taken to court, but was swiftly detained in the infamous Shimo la Tewa Prison, where he languished for nine months. His crime? Standing for a different vision of

Waiyaki never hesitated to name Njonjo as the architect of his suffering. He was never officially served with a detention order before his abduction. He only learnt that there was a Gazette Notice No. 997, published on March 22, 1968 to signal his detention.

On December 19, 1968, after nearly a year in detention, Waiyaki was escorted to State House Nairobi and asked to apologise to Jomo Kenyatta. But the experience had changed him. Disillusioned by the brutality of politics, he withdrew from public life. The firebrand had been silenced, but his legacy remained. Waiyaki was not willing to drop and beg.

Following his release, Waiyaki found himself in political exile within his own country. Unable to secure employment and denied a practice license, due to the hostility of the regime, he turned to farming. When he passed away at 97, his story remained a muted footnote in Kenya’s history books. Yet, his defiance, suffering, and unwavering commitment to democracy are etched in the fabric of the nation’s political struggles.

At his funeral, a familiar face stood among the mourners—Raila Odinga. It was a silent tribute to a long-standing political kinship. The Waiyaki family had always been linked to the Odingas—Munyua Waiyaki, Wambui Otieno, and now, in death, Kimani Waiyaki’s story once again intertwined with Kenya’s opposition legacy.

His was a life defined by conviction, courage, and a refusal to bend under pressure. He paid the price for his principles, but history must remember him as more than just a detainee. Kimani Waiyaki was a man who stood his ground, even when it cost him everything.

Adieu, Kimani Waiyaki. The radical who refused to bow.

@johnkamau1 [email protected]