Many good people die every day yet there are few who show us what humility and leadership can do in the little time we have here on earth.
This can describe the life of Nyamira Governor John Nyagarama. His untimely death indeed came as great shock, not just to the Gusii community but to the entire country.
The shock was not entirely because he was the governor but because the man had humility and a gentle demeanor, which described his leadership the entire period.
But when the newspapers referred to him as a gentle giant, some may not have understood it clearly.
It is for this reason that I share my life encounter with the man I knew not only as the English teacher but also as a brother-in-law who later rose to become the first governor of Nyamira.
I first met Governor Nyagarama when I was a small boy, when he was dating my sister, Dorcas Sigara Ndemo, in the early 1970’s. I was barely 10 years old.
I still vividly remember our first meeting at Manga Shopping Centre, which was eight kilometers away from our home. Three family members and I had travelled to Sengera, Manga, for a church service with my elder sister. She was our keeper.
Dorcas then was the reigning East African Javelin champion and was well known in the country, particularly in Kisii. For the young ones in the family, it was a privilege to always walk with her since many people greeted her wherever we went.
On this particular day, as we prepared for church, we had no clue our sister had a date that afternoon. What surprised us was the way she paid detailed attention to how we dressed and looked.
At that time, body lotion was a luxury so we had to use Sunlight aka Sandiraiti , a popular toilet soap for washing. It had the magic of softening our dry legs, arms and face. Although we walked barefoot, I must say, it was a pleasure to shine even for just one day a week.
After the church service, we started our trek back home from Sengera through Manga but as we approached the center, it started to rain.
All that soap we applied on our face, started to drip into our eyes. The ensuing pain was unbearable and worse still, it made it impossible to see.
Fortunately, we took shelter under a local Manga Hilton- a small kiosk restaurant which was tin-roofed. It was not quite the franchise of Hilton International but it was a common practice for rural eateries to use global brands without permission.
As I marveled at the sound of the rain, a gentleman suddenly held me by the neck, gently pushed my face into the gushing water from the tin roof and washed my face. It was such a relief. He did the same with my siblings. It was calm and nice again when he introduced himself as John.
"These are my younger siblings," my sister quickly interjected.
Gently, he ushered us into the darkish room and ordered tea for us. It felt like the tea had been boiling in a large kettle for a week as its temperature was abnormal. One sip tore my tongue and I started to have a challenge bigger than the earlier one of a soapy face.
I didn’t want to cry to embarrass my sister. However, John noticed my challenge and leaned over, took my cup of tea and sought another one to cool it for me.
He then did the unthinkable that August afternoon. He ordered us mandazi (fried dough), which at the time only afforded as a Christmas treat. This Swahili delicacy was oily so by the time we were finishing our tea, we had done a pretty job of smearing our faces with the cooking oil from it. As young children, we were happy that our faces were shining again.
John Nyagarama with my late Sister, Sigara.
Photo credit: Courtesy
Soon the rains subsided and it was time for us to start our trek back home. Although John and my sister ‘herded’ us in front of them, we noticed that they walked slowly behind us.
It didn’t matter to us that they walked rather slowly. By that time, we were already convinced that John was a good man. On reaching home, our inquisitive mothers demanded to know which cream we had applied on our faces and why. It was not our intention to report a good man. Unwittingly, we ended up disclosing everything.
Fortunately, soon after the Manga meeting, Nyagarama wedded my sister. They were blessed with 10 children.
I visited them often at their new home in Nyansiongo. What astounded me most was that he preferred calling me mokoyone (in-law), which was a reflection of how he approached me. That was his way of doing things. More importantly , what made him a gentleman was how he never rushed to open his mouth, which would be followed by regret.
This was reflected when my sister died in 1998. He was profoundly affected. It took him even longer to open his mouth as we visited him. The only time he managed to was when he asked us if we could go to the mortuary to make sure her body had been preserved properly. Although our report was affirmative, that was his moment of greatest weakness
What we also knew about Nyagarama was the way he loved the Nyamira people and was willing to do what it took to serve them well. He believed in being a leader who resonated with his people.
Twice he wanted to get into politics but he would strategically drop the idea. Unlike many politicians, he wanted to build a base first by working with the people before venturing into the field.
And indeed, he tirelessly worked with tea farmers to help them earn what was their worth. His leadership in the tea sector is perhaps what propelled him into politics, helping him to easily win the Nyamira gubernatorial seat in 2013 and 2017.
As a politician, Nyagarama exhibited unmatched qualities of respecting all of his relatives and friends despite the fact that many of them were from different political persuasions. Never once did he try to impose his ideas on others. He chose his path well and pursued it to the success of his people.
His gentle demeanor won the hearts of many, both young and old. We shall dearly miss his counsel.
His humility in leadership made him one of the great leaders in Kenya, who has set a landmark not only in the county but also nationally.
