The nightmare started at exactly at 12.59pm on that fateful Tuesday when a radio announcer uttered the unthinkable words. The beaded fly whisk had faltered, and all flags had to flutter at half-mast. Heartbeats raced, the country’s collective blood pressure soared.
As businesses and government offices hurriedly closed, streets emptied and Kenyans scurried home to contemplate what President Jomo Kenyatta’s death portended.