As if he had negotiated with destiny for a hasty assignment, I was surprised to see Prof Kithure Kindiki march majestically to take the oath of office as Deputy President.
I remembered another day when I first saw him more than two decades ago.
He was marching to a smaller stage then, at Moi University (Main Campus), Eldoret.
He was a few years my senior, but we were in the same Christian Union fellowship. On the day I saw him, he was the preacher.
I had never heard of him before that day. But I had heard of another student, who I came to learn later, was the DP’s classmate—Mr Hassan Omar—the current Secretary-General of the ruling United Democratic Alliance (UDA).
UDA party secretary general Omar Hassan addresses journalists at the party offices in Nairobi on September 19, 2024.
Photo credit: File | Nation Media Group
At the time, at Moi University, Mr Omar had a near-mythical status as chairman of the Moi University Students Organisation (MUSO).
Other student leaders at the time were Homa Bay Senator Moses Kajwang and the first Homa Bay County Assembly Speaker Samuel ‘Matata’ Ochillo.
Dubbed ‘Matata’ at Moi University then, Ochillo was a thunderbolt who was sometimes allegedly abducted by security forces for all the ‘matata’ (trouble) he caused, setting off the alarm on campus.
But for me then, Mr Omar was the enfant terrible of Moi University, the avenging angel with a flaming halo, always in trouble for this or that. It was not clear to me then if he did this on the propulsive force of ego or if it was a destiny pull in his life—this ruffling of feathers for which Mr Omar was expelled from the university at some point.
As American writer Mandy Stadtmiller would have put it, it was like Mr Omar “had won the Most Stressful Life Events All at Once lottery”!
Omar’s antics, which I didn’t appreciate then, made no sense to me.
The university was, to me, a hotbed of utter magic of intellectual resources. I felt like I was under a spell when I was at the Margaret Thatcher Library with its tinted windows—under blue skies, strangers whispering secrets—every morning the tea tasted sweeter, lunch tastier, and dinner tastier still.
Eldoret’s rain came down suddenly—mud came from nowhere and then the blustery wind ceased as if it hadn’t blown. Flowers splashed the ground around the Student’s Centre with colour, and the trees would unfurl their fleshy blossoms.
At that time, I considered student politics too high for me though I also had a destiny pull to be an editor.
My ambition was to study Information Sciences (Majoring in Publishing) and to work as an editor in a publishing firm.
I was delighted when I was tapped to be associate editor of The Illuminator (the MUSO student magazine) by the then editor Luke Mulunda (now a veteran journalist).
Mr Mulunda wrote an article a few years ago describing Hassan Omar as, “… a law student at Moi University, who stormed the national stage in 1999 when he staged massive student riots demanding radical changes at the Eldoret-based university leading to a prolonged closure…”.
Mr Omar, Mr Kajwang and Mr Ochillo had political ambitions on campus that Prof Kindiki didn’t have then or maybe he had his ambitions concealed. His swift rise to Deputy President reminded me of the role of destiny in life and literature.
Deputy President Kithure Kindiki (left) is welcomed by UDA Secretary General Hassan Omar at the Hustler Centre in Nairobi on November 11, 2024.
Photo credit: Pool
Whether it’s student politics or student editors, destiny seems to give premonitions, some sort of “preview of coming attractions”.
Literature deals with such intrigues as fate and destiny. Helena Lind once wrote that, “The nature of humankind’s struggle for meaning and our more or less heroic quests to change or fulfil destiny has always been an intriguing part of the human life.
It is no surprise that famous authors, poets, and other writers draw from the central theme of destiny, a practice that has led to the development of… thought-provoking masterpieces”.
And one of these thought-provoking masterpieces is Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth.
Like other writers, Shakespeare grappled with the question of whether humans are free agents or “victims” of a predetermined fate. At one point, the character Macbeth wonders about the role of fate (chance) when he says, “If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, without my stir”.
Instead of just believing what the prophecies say, however, Macbeth decides to act, probably after discovering that he has an active part to play in fulfilling his destiny.
Maybe that’s what has brought Prof Kindiki to the position of the second most powerful man in Kenya—taking charge of his destiny. Even though he was not a student leader in the calibre of Mr Omar decades ago, he must have gone deliberately to work to fulfil his destiny!
And it is interesting how destiny leaves clues for some people, early indicators of what is to come and for others like Prof Kindiki, they just gallop out of the shadows into a colourful destiny as if by an overnight miracle.
The truth, however, must be that such people work in silence and in the dark like the way a seed grows underground before it buds and is seen over the soil. Prof Kindiki must have put in the work. We wish him success.
