Premium

Millie Odhiambo: 'Bad girl's' lessons in politics, shock of being assigned many boyfriends

A book authored by Suba South MP Millie Odhiambo. [Courtesy]

There was, for a long time, an unwritten rule that most women getting into politics had to use a bottom-up approach.  

This was not, and is not necessarily true, though some women think it is easier to use this approach, first on party owners and at times on financiers, since elective politics is expensive.

There was a time when a super-rich male colleague tried to hit on me by telling me that I needed to have a socio-political financier in order to survive in politics.  

Dumbfounded, I shared this with one of the women politicians and her response was even more flabbergasting. She said, don’t be mean with it. It is free, it can be used and it will remain as is, where is. You need money for campaigns, give him, in any case, exchange is a fair game.”  

Interestingly, these same sentiments were shared by a woman in my constituency, who used different words to explain why some men were attacking me at some point. In her view, all I needed was to give him/them what he/they wanted since it would remain exactly where it has been through the years. 

We are an amalgam of people in politics, with different ideologies, standards, ages and backgrounds. How you engage in politics is therefore totally up to you. However, it is a fallacy that you must be immoral to remain in politics. 

As a professional and as a leader, I believe you can make it and come to leadership on your own terms, without feeling you owe someone when you actually don’t. Ultimately, of course, the choice is yours. 

There is a male politician who is notorious for bad table manners. He, apparently, can easily influence the issuance of certificates in his party for women candidates under one condition: he finishes with you on his office table.  

A woman MP told me she had vied twice in her party and was not successful even after a clear win. She was told to see him and he would help. She told me, “Millie, if lying on that table would earn me a certificate, why not? I did and I got my certificate.” She was elected.

Another issue you need to learn is that the public, and even most male colleagues, believe that all women in public life are also publicly available. You will be assigned many boyfriends. I was assigned many.  

Relationship propaganda

When I got nominated, most people did not understand how, so there had to be a male angle to it. I was originally assigned to William Ruto. I was offended when I heard it, then a senior female colleague told me to use it as leverage. He was in the Pentagon. He was seen as powerful. I thereafter got cheekily quiet. I let people believe it. It opened doors.  

Later, I was assigned to Raila Odinga, though it fizzled out fast. I think the framers must have seen how stupid it sounded, even as propaganda. Then I was assigned to Uhuru Kenyatta because I led a group of nominated MPs to him when he was Finance Minister, and he assigned Sh120 million to us in the budget for our activities.  

I am also told I am a girlfriend to my nephew Brian and to a few other public figures both young and old. I’m yet to know who my current boyfriend is though. I cheerfully welcome these many boyfriends assigned to me depending on what value they add to me politically.  

As a woman, do not be overly troubled when you are assigned boyfriends, real or imaginary. It is up to you to choose your standards, be they liberal or conservative, because ultimately, you are the one who knows who you are answerable to: God, yourself, your family or the public.  

For politics, branding is key. Getting an identikit is a core part of branding. It is an indispensable marketing tool. In business, corporate branding has long been acknowledged as critical for business growth.  

Many politicians endowed with resources use money and money becomes their identikit. For others, an identikit is a physical attribute such as a beard, hairstyle or manner of dressing. For instance, the former MP for Funyula Julia Ojiambo, though small in stature, was always distinguishable in a sea of tall people because of her signature headgear. 

An even better example, though, was the ‘controversial ambassador, the late Orie Rogo Manduli, who started adorning Nigerian headgear in Kenya. Wherever she went, she needed no introduction. That was her identikit. 

Millie: When I got nominated, most people did not understand how, so there had to be a male angle to it. I was originally assigned to William Ruto. I was offended when I heard it, then a senior female colleague told me to use it as leverage.

Your dressing sells you for what you are and what you stand for. It could speak to conservatism, youthfulness, patriotism or liberalism. Dressing, however, is not the only identikit. During the presidential campaigns, I used to greet people using my signature Suba greeting: Geza Geza. The name became my identikit and preceded me. It sold me more than my “regular” name: Millie Odhiambo-Mabona.  

It is, therefore, helpful to find something that makes people identify you quickly and it better be in vogue.  

Violence against women 

One of the key challenges for women on the political front is the issue of violence. Physical violence is not the only form of violence women face; other scary tactics include propaganda, intimidation and verbal abuse.  

Intimidation was often used against me. During the 2007 elections, due to my support for Otieno Kajwang, my mother’s house became a target for the local police and was searched several times and at one point, it was purported that there were ballot papers hidden there. The police came and searched and found nothing.  

After the results for the national presidential elections were announced, there were demonstrations all-over. Some of the local police appeared to have targeted my mother’s house because of my association with the opposition. She was shot at and the bullet missed her narrowly.  

During my own campaigns, I was often abused and there were many attempts to demean me by calling me names like ‘lur’ or the barren woman. My convoy was attacked twice in the evening. I downplayed the attacks.  

I underwent extreme violence in my second term in Parliament, including being physically assaulted and undressed on the floor of the house by male MPs; my home was burnt down and my bodyguard killed during the party primaries.  

One of the issues that is often used against women in politics is propaganda. It is one of the machineries that is very much gendered, and was deployed against me on numerous occasions. 

I fought hard and despite numerous challenges, I won the party primaries. After my win, the then Prime Minister, our party leader, was told I was violent, rigged the elections and had urinated on ballot papers. This, I was told, was one of the reasons given to deny me a certificate.  

You must strike a balance between acknowledging the reality of women and sounding like you are a whiner or a griper.  

At the grassroot level, women do not carry complicated feminist notions and theories, but they understand the power of oppression, of struggle and above all of silent understanding and appreciation. They understand the fact that there is a sense of comradeship with a person who has probably gone through the same journey.  

They see cooking as beautiful and unique to women. They see it as unifying. There is, of course, strength in unity. The rural women silently, taught me powerful lessons about turning the things that are meant to limit us to items of strength. The oluth kuon or cooking stick became a rallying call for solidarity! I stopped intellectualising my campaigns. I chose to see the cooking stick, instead, as a symbol of women’s solidarity and soft power.  

Millie: I underwent extreme violence in my second term in Parliament, including being physically assaulted and undressed on the floor of the house by male MPs; my home was burnt down and my bodyguard killed during the party primaries.  

I recall that during the campaigns, my opponents started a campaign that I should not be voted in because I was a migogo. A migogo is a woman born of, but not married in an area. As a daughter of Rusinga, I was considered a migogo, which equated me to a foreigner - as a married woman.  

In my community, which is patriarchal, culturally, it is argued, I needed to seek an elective seat where I am married, which is another country; not where my father came from. I responded by attacking that negativity, but quickly realised I was playing according to their script.  

That was what they wanted me to spend time on - defending my right to be voted for even though I was a migogo. I decided to ignore the sleaze and moved on to why I felt I was a qualified and better candidate.  

Instead of being defensive, I acknowledged I was indeed a migogo and asked people to elect a migogo who rescued Migingo Island. In other words, in times of need it was the migogo who had responded to the needs of the community. The electorate told me to ignore it and though it was the sexiest issue against me in the beginning, in the end it became a non-issue.  

Women have an ability most men just don’t have. Most African men are socialised to be macho and thus have big egos. Ego has wrongly been viewed as what is desirable and critical in African politics. Women, on the other hand, are socialised to be gentle, bumble, nurturing, caring, beautiful, sexy and motherly.   

Using soft power

Due to the harsh political terrain, women are perceived as not likely to win with these “soft” qualities. However, and contrary to this popular belief, women can and indeed have used “soft” power to get ahead in politics. 

The controversial ambassador, the late Manduli, at one time made a statement that earned the wrath of many women and men. She encouraged women to use their femininity to get what they want. Many people chose to read that she meant using ourselves as sex objects. 

However, I believe she meant employing tantalising or soft power. Soft power is not visible, but its results are felt. Soft power is about playing gentle and about wooing votes. My opponents singled me out, as the frontrunner, and made unkind remarks about me. The public taught me to respond using soft power. 

A strong aspect of soft power is massaging or assuaging the male ego. It is about storing away your own ego and pulling it out only to fight relevant wars. It never takes away who or what you are. Leave the unending ego wars to men. 

You must, however, be careful how you use soft power because it can be used against you. Before I declared interest in the Mbita seat, I was commonly referred to and I self- praised as Amilo Geza Geza mrembo wa Suba—Amilo Geza Geza the Suba beauty. 

My opponents started asking people not to vote for me because my only strength was beauty. In the end I had to declare that, “I am definitely beautiful, but over and above that, I have qualities of leadership.” 

It is worth noting that men too can use soft power, but it is a little trickier for them. The late Kajwang always described himself as “Otieno Nyakwar Nyakwamba, Owagakoth Wuoyi ma Silop.” This can loosely be translated to “Otieno, the tall, handsome man who is a grandson to Nyakwamba and a brother to Akoth.” 

This resonated well with the voters. One of my opponents, apparently to counter my narrative of the “Suba beauty”, started describing himself as a handsome and educated man. Most people thought he was arrogant and indeed some said, “what kind of man is this who is preoccupied with his looks?” In this instance, patriarchy worked against him. 

Millie: The late Orie Rogo Manduli encouraged women to use their femininity to get what they want. Many people chose to read that she meant using ourselves as sex objects. 

It is often said that in politics there are never permanent friends or enemies and the only thing that is permanent is interests. That is largely true. Indeed, in politics the relationship of encounters can best be described as frenemies or friends who are enemies. 

Many times, as politicians, we publicly criticise and even abuse our opponents and sometimes our supporters end up hating each other so much that some even end up fighting and killing each other yet when we meet, we do not do the same. 

No hard feelings

We are able to maintain a friends and enemies approach. When it works for us, we meet across party lines and share drinks and even work on and support similar issues. When it does not work for us, we choose to be enemies of sorts. 

My main opponent in the 2013 election cycle, Pharez, is my cousin. The person who came second in the party primaries, and who later moved to another party as my main challenger in the main elections, Mark, was a long-time friend, and was one of the people who encouraged me to get into politics. 

He was the Reverend who presided at my wedding. He was so close a friend that he was, initially, one of my key political advisors. I was thus surprised when he left the position he was vying for as Governor, and used the information he had gained as an insider, and the infrastructure he had accessed as my friend, to campaign against me

For women, this is often hard to fathom as most of us tend to be value based. Most of us are socialised into being true to our friends. Interestingly, men do not even consider this a betrayal. It is merely competition and to them, the best person wins. 

At one point, I nearly convinced myself that men attend secret night classes, where they train in ‘hardcore’ tactics. I remember that for a long time, many people kept pressuring me to vie in Mbita and the reason I could not even remotely consider it was that the then incumbent Kajwang was a relative. 

When he later had an opportunity to return the favour, he not only failed to, but instead supported my opponent. I considered him a political mentor and advisor and sought his advice for almost all political decisions. Infact, I originally intended to vie in Lang’ata constituency but at a meeting of Homa Bay leadership, he asked me to vie as Women Representative of Homa Bay County, which I did not want. 

I agreed out of respect for him. He later called me while we were with John Mbadi, and told me to vie in Mbita instead since he had decided to vie as Senator and I could not therefore vie as a Woman Representative since we came from the same geographical area and hence it would not augur well politically for both him and I to vie for County positions. I complied and vied in Mbita. 

I was shocked to later learn that he had told my cousin to vie for the same seat. This was despite the fact that I was his campaign manager. Initially, I was very hurt but then I later discovered in politics, there are never hard feelings.

You just learn to move by the ticking of the clock. What I respect the late Kajwang for is that he actually taught me that it is never personal for we remained friends and respectful of each other. 

This is one of the lessons that is difficult for most women to fathom. For men, relations and friendships tend to count for nothing in politics. The book’s launch was supported by the Friedrich Naumann Foundation for Freedom. The book is available in leading bookshops.

Business
Traders claim closure of liquor stores, bars near schools punitive
Opinion
Adani fallout is a lesson on accountability and transparency fight
Business
Treasury goes for UAE loan as IMF cautions of debt situation
Opinion
How talent development is shaping Kenya's tech future