In the midst of life's chaos, moments of synchronicity can occur, revealing connections between seemingly unrelated events. Such synchronicities demand our attention, urging us to pause, reflect, and recognize their significance.
One recent case exemplifies this phenomenon: the passing of Mukami Kimathi, wife of Kenya Land and Freedom Army (KLFA) Field Marshal Dedan Kimathi, coinciding with the coronation of King Charles III, who inherited the scepter of power from Queen Elizabeth II.
While Westminster Abbey exuded pomp and glamour, the small town of Njabini in Kenya mourned one of its independence heroines.
The hoisting of the Kenyan Flag at Uhuru Gardens marked the beginning of a new era of self-rule in 1963. The long struggle against colonialism, led by warriors like Samoei Arap Koitalel, Muthoni Nyanjiru, and Mekatili wa Menza, culminated in the fall of the Union Jack on that momentous day.
The promise of a democratic state, shaped by the people and for the people, held great expectations.
Land and freedom, the core ideals of the struggle, were now under the control of Kenyans, enabling the pursuit of prosperity determined by the collective will. Tragically, the dream was swiftly shattered by a group of rapacious turncoats who exploited their political power.
As history unfolded, Kenya's first prime minister and president, Jomo Kenyatta, and his clique abandoned the dream in favor of personal gain, neglecting the needs of the nation.
Plagued by overexploitation during the colonial era, Kenya required visionary and pragmatic leadership to transform its predominantly agrarian economy into a diversified one, fostering the growth of non-agricultural sectors such as manufacturing and public services.
However, the dream of eradicating diseases, ignorance, and poverty was sidelined, allowing the political and economic elite to amass wealth for themselves and their associates.
They engaged in a spree of looting, seizing white-owned farms and other properties through initiatives like the One Million Acre Scheme, which aimed to prevent radical land redistribution.
Power had shifted from foreign oppressors to homegrown oppressors who utilized state machinery to protect their newly acquired wealth and status. Alongside their close allies and families, they formed a comprador class, perpetuating the legacy of colonial exploitation.
Despite Kenya's independence, which celebrated its sixtieth anniversary this year, the majority of Kenyans experienced limited socio-economic impact. Working as casual laborers on white-owned farms, the majority of the population toiled on just 12% of high potential farming land.
Conscious of the betrayal, KLFA warriors such as Musa Mwariama and General Baimunge returned to the forest to continue fighting for land rights. However, their efforts were met with suppression as the government labeled the KLFA as a terrorist organization.
The crackdown on independence heroes marked the beginning of assassinations, exiles, imprisonment, and dissent being silenced. The dream of a truly independent state was hijacked and personalized by a few, perpetuating a legacy of cronyism, nepotism, betrayal, and corruption.
Even after the fall of apartheid in South Africa, Nelson Mandela, who drew inspiration from Kenya's armed struggle, visited the country hoping to pay tribute at Dedan Kimathi's Mausoleum or grave site.
However, the governments that had ruled for over three decades had not made any efforts to locate Kimathi's remains, believed to be held at Kamiti Maximum Prison in an undisclosed location.
While Kimathi was forgotten, other living heroes were left in abject poverty, with only a select few receiving small parcels of land. Despite their active campaigning for recognition and support from the state, the majority of freedom fighters died without acknowledgment or compensation.
The recent state burial of Mukami Kimathi, attended by political leaders, appeared more as a parade of the elite than a moment of reflection on the rich legacy she left behind. It is disheartening that the cost of her state burial could have provided for her and her family while she was alive.
The Kenyan flag did not fly at half-mast to honor her courage, sacrifice, and commitment to the country's independence. In contrast, it flew at half-mast for three days following Queen Elizabeth's death. This highlights Kenya's tendency to neglect its history and erase significant parts of its past.
Looking ahead, King Charles III's upcoming visit to Kenya provides an opportunity to address the injustices of the colonial era. It should be centered on undoing the dispossession orchestrated by his family and country.
Before pursuing trade deals, military cooperation, and knowledge exchange, the focus should be on healing historical wounds rather than covering them up.
As Kenya commemorates 60 years of independence, Oginga Odinga's autobiography, "Not Yet Uhuru," continues to resonate with the current state of the nation, sadly foreseen.
To move forward, the government must prioritize the interests of its citizens and seek justice for the atrocities committed during the colonial era.
Reparations and recognition for the victims should take precedence over grandiose ceremonies and diplomatic engagements. Only through acknowledging the past can true healing and progress be achieved.
The original version of this article was first published on the Elephant online journal.