Mulembe Nation feels offended by Ichungwa's recent outbursts

Like S T Coleridge’s ancient mariner, we wake up each morning, here in Emanyulia, older and sadder, but also wiser. Like the 19th Century English poet, we realise that he loves best who loves all things, both great and small. “For, dear God who loveth us, he made and loveth all.” 

You see, we are wondering what to do about our creeds, in the face of unmerited insolence in our own backyard. Our creeds collectivise us as the Mulembe Nation. For we recognise that we are passengers on a wider national vessel, the MV Kenya, now under the captaincy of Dr William Samoei Ruto, PhD, CGH. And Dr Ruto has his cabin crew, which helps him steer the ship of the Kenyan state. But does this crew sometimes act beyond the pale?  

At the core of our belief system is reverence for peaceful co-existence among ourselves, and goodwill towards everyone else. Accordingly, the word “mulembe,” which is to say “peace,” is ever so ready on our lips. Our forefathers made it our greeting. Hence, everywhere, you tell everyone you encounter, “Peace, mulembe, shalom.” Our people added to this the shaking of hands, as a mandatory part of salutation. Even if your hands are infested with jiggers, and they have not been washed for months, when you extend your palm in greeting, we shall take it. It is the goodwill that counts. Not the aesthetics and softness of your palms. And so we are called the Mulembe Nation, the peaceful people. Through the handshake, we can read right into your soul and mind. We can tell if you mean well or not, just through the interlocking of our palms.  

When foreigners brought us the radio, it became another platform for expression of goodwill. We have over the years loved the greetings request shows on radio. We were, for the longest, the kings of salaams clubs, as we called them. We extended our greetings beyond our region, all the way to Zachariah Demfo, as he travelled from Dodoma to Dar es Salaam; and to others. Accordingly, we love people from all climes, “for the dear God who loveth us, he made and loveth all.” 

Sacrosanct ceremonies

But, occasionally, some of our visitors rub us the wrong way. Yet, our established mores and etiquette require that we still must treat them well. You see, we are traditionally a burying community, here in Emanyulia. This moment of separation is also occasion for reunion.

We separate physically with our glorious departed one. But we also fuse spiritually with the dead, the living and the unborn. That is why we do elaborate celebratory things that confound outsiders.  

The ceremonies are, therefore, sacrosanct. We do not hurl insults at one another, less still at those who come to condole with us. That does not stop us, however, from telling you some home truths, if necessary. Like, if we think that someone is kidnapping and killing our children, we will say it, especially at the funeral. It is, in fact, not you we are telling, even when you are present.  We are actually reporting you to the spiritual ancestral world. We are asking them to investigate. If they find you guilty, they shall deal with you, according to their own designs and devices. Now these things are strange to those who steer MV Kenya. Accordingly, they will come to our burial ceremonies to scream at us and say things like, “Shame on you! Shame on you, George Natembeya!”  

When we keep quiet, it is because we recognise the season of anomie that the country’s leadership has descended into. We recognise that like Coleridge’s ship in “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” ours is becoming a ghostly vessel with a spectral crew.

In the process, however, we get to know those who love us, from those who think we are tools they can use in their projects. Cardinal among our creeds is that you do not attack a man in his backyard. We call it “okhuseera.”  

If you see the Leader of the Majority in the National Assembly, Kimani Ichung’wa of Kikuyu Constituency, tell him that the people of Emanyulia are unhappy. He has attacked Mulembe Consciousness in its backyard. When you attack one of them in their home, be he great or a nobody, the whole village feels insulted.

Never mind that a few lost sons may clap for you. Older, sadder, but wiser, we will ask you impossible questions when you return. We feel insulted, and you can impeach us if you want. Our people say, there is also the day after tomorrow.  

Dr Muluka is a strategic communications adviser. www.barrackmuluka.co.ke