While the Muruatetu case led to judicial confusion to the extent that the Supreme Court had to clarify what it meant, in the criminal underworld of Francis Karioko Muruatetu – a grandson of the late Embu ex-senior chief Joseph Muruatetu – it was not all smooth sailing.
That underworld was first exposed on January 19, 1995, when anti-narcotics police raided a house in Doonholm, Nairobi, and seized hashish worth Sh480 million, the largest single narcotics seizure in Kenya’s history. What we know is that the drug had been sourced from Pakistan, passed through Mombasa and various police road blocks and reached the sleepy Kiamwangi village in Gatundu, where Administration Police inspector Francis Karioko Muruatetu was based.
The drugs were neatly packaged like chocolate bars and they were labelled Heavenly Coffee, Fancy Ketchup and Café Special. The ingredients were listed as salt, onion powder, natural flavour and distilled vinegar.
It is not clear when the cargo reached Kiamwangi village, but we know from records that on January 8, 1995, Muruatetu, who was in charge of Gatundu Division, together with the officer commanding Gatundu Police Station John Cheusa, raided Frank Kinya Kioni’s home after they were tipped off that drugs were hidden there.
They roped in the local district officer, Mr Paul Mburugu Rimberia, and his boss, District Officer 1, Mr Bondo Ligawa. With them were armed police in two Land Rovers. They ring-fenced Kioni’s house — causing commotion in the sleepy neighbourhood. Mr Kioni’s mother, Jennifer, in whose custody were the “chemicals”, as she had been told by her son, was at home. It now appears that Mr Kioni, who had vanished, would surface later to cut a deal with Mr Rimberia, Mr Ligawa – who later vanished into thin-air – and the two police officers Muruatetu and Cheusa.
That these government officers were not willing to take the drugs to a police station was clear. During the raid, the officials had ordered Mr Kioni’s brother, Mr Daniel Waithaka, who had arrived in a pick-up truck, to load some of the narcotics into his vehicle and take them to the DO’s office – rather than the police station. More hashish was carried using the police Land Rover and the DO’s official car. As the officers left with part of the narcotics, they ordered the family to tell Mr Kioni to report to the DO’s office. No one was arrested.
The next day, January 9, both Muruatetu and Cheusa approached a Government Chemist analyst, Mr John Kithei, and asked him to identify the drug for them. They claimed that they had found a suspect with it and wanted to make an arrest.
A few days later, Mr Ligawa paid Thika-based transporter James Thiongo Sh6,000 to have the hashish transferred from Gatundu to a rented house in Doonholm. That house was rented by Mr Kioni’s company. The loading of the hashish was witnessed by Muruatetu and the two DOs, and the lorry was escorted by Mr Muruatetu and Mr Rimberia, riding in a Kenya Power and Lighting Company vehicle. In those days, it was normal for police officers and other government operatives to use Kenya Power vehicles on their unofficial business.
Initial reports had indicated that the hashish, as well as the owner, had “disappeared” . It is only after Mr Michael Jacobum, a drug buster, was tipped off on where the narcotics were hidden that the Doonholm raid took place. But when police raided the house and seized the drugs, and even before they were linked to the haul, the two DOs deserted their workplace. In the end, one of the DOs and the two police officers were arrested and they appeared before Nairobi Chief Magistrate Uniter Pamella Kidullah.
The other DO, Ligawa, left the country the same year and never returned. His wife later filed for divorce on grounds that he deserted the marriage. A search on the internet shows a Bondo Ligawa who died and was buried in Botswana early this year.
As the case went on, police claimed that they were looking for Mr Kioni, but he couldn’t be found. But were they? It later turned out that as police were supposedly looking for Mr Kioni, he was flying in and out of the country at will. He even applied and received the new generation identity card while still in the country. Further, he went to Nyayo House and renewed his passport and used it to travel to Tanzania and later London.
Muruatetu and his accomplices were jailed for 20 years in February 1999, but a two-judge bench comprising Judge Samuel Oguk and Justice Effie Owuor reduced their sentence to six years effective November 7, 1995 – and that is where another story begins.
Whether Muruatetu left prison early to get involved in the Kitengela murder of land dealer Lawrence Magondu on February 4, 2000, has never been explained.
Magondu’s high-profile murder captured the country’s attention since it led to the arrest of Commissioner of Lands Wilson Gachanja and his wife Elizabeth Gitiri Gachanja and her half-brother, Muruatetu.
On the fateful day, Magondu, a land dealer, was lured from Buruburu Estate to ostensibly go and show a prospective land buyer, Wilson Mwangi Thiribu, some plots in Kitengela. Mr Magondu left with his driver Harrison King’ori.
As a land dealer, he had made friends with the commissioner of Lands and was used to doing some not-above-board transactions. Later, there was bad blood between him and the Gachanja family.
It is known Magondu arrived early and waited for the buyer. Later, a white Toyota Corolla with five people arrived and was parked just behind Magondu’s car. The men carried barbed wire, ropes, two crowbars and a new panga, with which to ostensibly mark and fence the plot – or so Magondu was told.
Those at the scene of crime included Thiribu, Annah Ngonyo, David Njuguna, Stephen Wambua and Stephen Kagia. Thiribu told Magondu that he wanted to buy the plot for his sister, Ngonyo, who lived in Switzerland. It was later established Ngonyo did not live in Switzerland and was not Thiribu’s sister.
As negotiations began, the price of the land was agreed as Sh1.4 million, down from Sh1.5 million. The buyers promised to issue a banker’s cheque on the same day, since Ngonyo was to leave for Switzerland.
Thiribu had introduced the three shabbily dressed men – Njuguna, Wambua, and Kagia – as his workers. He then opened the car boot and asked Magondu whether the barbed wire was enough to fence the plot. He then suggested that they drive around the vicinity of the plot to get a sense of the kind of developments taking place in that neighbourhood.
The three strangers rode in Thiribu’s car while Thiribu and Ngonyo rode in Magondu’s. After the inspection, they returned to the plot, where Thiribu gave Magondu’s driver, King’ori, money to go and buy some nyama choma for lunch. King’ori was escorted by Wambua. As they were waiting for the nyama choma, Thiribu turned up with Kagia. King’ori thought that his boss Magondu was in the car, and after he followed, and caught up with them on a lonely road to the Nairobi National Park, he realised that his boss was not in the car. The car then stopped and before King’ori could ask about his boss, he was attacked and left for dead. Luckily, he survived and would become the star witness in the case of the murder of his boss Magondu.
It later emerged that the person who paid the killers was Elizabeth Gachanja, and that it was delivered by Muruatetu and his sister Rose Njoki. Shortly after the murder, more payments were made to Muruatetu. He bought a car and rented a shop in Jamhuri. His sister also threw a party that was attended by some of the killers and relatives. They never thought they would be caught.
The cell phone age had just arrived and police were able to retrieve computer printouts of the mobile phone data of various suspects. It was found that Thiribu was in close communication with Muruatetu when the killing was being planned.
While Wilson Gachanja was set free, the others were convicted and were to face the death penalty, all except Ngonyo, who had become pregnant while in police custody. The father of her unborn baby was believed to be one of the her co-accused. Prisons spokesman John Odongo told the media: “Ngonyo could have conceived during one of her court appearances. When we take them to court, we hand them over to the police and this could have happened during that time … the only person who can say the truth is the convict herself.”
While Gachanja’s wife managed to have her sentence quashed later on, it was Muruatetu who lodged a spirited attempt to have the courts determine the legality of the mandatory death penalty. He argued in court that the mandatory death penalty was unconstitutional and that a legal statute was overriding the Constitution and did not give room to judicial discretion.
At the Supreme Court, the judges seemed to agree with him – and this opened way to confusion on the question of judicial discretion. And before the matter was revisited – and explained – by the Supreme Court, it had become apparent that judges and magistrates had misapplied the Muruatetu ruling.
Last year, an ailing Muruatetu was again in court trying to get out on account of illness. The matter was dismissed. So much for a murderer and drug dealer – a policeman who decided to break the law.
