President Uhuru Kenyatta took his last national celebration speech to outline his successes (and they are numerous), defend his decision to forge a rapprochement with his political foe-turned-buddy Raila Odinga and to put his deputy William Ruto in his right place.
He also took time beat back the wave of cynicism and the lack of a sense of accomplishment by celebrating the March 2018 handshake, regretting what seems (to him) to be five wasted years with his deputy (2013-2017) and five rewarding years with Tinga (Mr Odinga) in his wings.
His critics leapt on the chance to dismiss the speech as a form of “a me, myself and I” exposition. To them, in the desire to deny his deputy his day in the sun, the president brazenly engaged in self-promotion and self-glorification.
True, the speech was nothing near President John F Kennedy’s: “Ask not what your country will do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” It was not a climb down from the ‘Constitutional Moment’ that never was. It is as if he failed to gauge the mood of the nation. No wonder he engaged in one last (needless) spectacle of showing his deputy who the boss was. But was it?
By contrast, the two presidents before him chose a different approach to announce their imminent departure. President Moi’s last national day address (Jamhuri Day 2002) will be remembered for his plea for forgiveness (from those he had wronged and his offer for forgiveness to those who offended him) and the need to keep the country together despite the rising political temperatures.
In contrition, Moi acknowledged that there was more that could have been done better. President Kibaki’s (Jamhuri Day 2012) was more reflective, more measured and steered away from self-adulation. In fact, Kibaki’s was a celebration of the people’s resolve to rise up to the challenge of nation building following years of stagnation as Kanu came under a barrage of sanctions from donors and the international community and corruption and mismanagement.
His mantra of a “Working Nation” was persuasive and in itself revolutionary. “Through focused leadership and sheer hard work by Kenyans across the country, we were able to achieve a growth rate of 7 per cent in five years,” said Kibaki.
Besides not using the word “my administration” (not even once) - and despite listing his achievements which are by no means significant, so much changed in education, energy, the economy, roads, health, water and conservation - Kibaki’s sounded (tone and text) more like a fireside chat from a grandfather to his grandchildren; “I encourage you to save no matter what size of your income...Haba na haba ujuza kibaba,” he said. Indeed, the miracle of the Asian Tigres has been attributed in large part to their profound saving culture.
The pronouns “we and our” are prominent signalling attribution; he did it with everyone. Kenyans, Kibaki said, had heeded his call to pay taxes (Sh700 billion in 2012 from Sh180 billion in 2002) and as result, the country could fund government projects using local funds. He termed this economic independence.
In contrast, Uhuru’s was a talk down, a justification of why he did what he did as he attempted to disabuse the country of the “what and how”. Never mind that the Constitution is anchored on public participation. Whereas Kibaki celebrated economic independence, Uhuru’s critics never miss a chance to demonstrate that the economy has woefully underperformed, choked by ballooning debt (Sh8 trillion up from Sh1 trillion in 2012). Uhuru spoke for one hour, seven minutes, Kibaki spoke for 35 minutes only. Moi’s was slightly longer.
One could argue (justifiably) that the contexts and circumstances of the three speeches called for different approaches. And that the buck ultimately stops with the president. Kenya’s problems have become complex and the political terrain has grown treacherous. Yet one can’t miss to notice that the older men were self-possessed, reconciliatory and were keen to gather together the sheep after long-drawn- out storming; an acknowledgement of there-is-life-after office fact.
Uhuru’s speechwriter woefully forfeited that chance.
The speechwriter ought to be faulted for succeeding in projecting Uhuru as a self-obsessed, self-regarding lame duck president, yet the message in his quest “to answer the why he did what he did” ought to have propelled the broader, deeper moral appeal it bore. Sadly, it didn’t.
Mr Kipkemboi is Partnerships and Special Projects Editor, Standard Group
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