Interview with Mwai Kibaki revealed a side of him only known by a few

Former President Mwai Kibaki (centre) in a past political event [File]

On August 17, 1995, the East African Standard (predecessor of The Standard), published a feature story headlined ‘Mwai Kibaki – His own story). It was a colourful magazine feature, revealing inside details by a top politician who rarely opened up his personal life to the media.

I was a budding features writer, having worked for the newspaper for four years, and the Kibaki article remains one of the gems in my career scrap book. It took me two months to secure an interview with him.

He repeatedly begged us not to publish some of the things he said off-the-cuff during the interview, not that they were seditious (Kenya had gone multi-party anyway), but Kibaki the politician and top government office holder was never one to be caught stoking controversy, especially against his former boss President Daniel arap Moi.

That morning, the weather in the tree-cloistered Muthaiga suburb was moist, having been dampened by an incessant drizzle. We found Kibaki already waiting for us outside on the foyer of the family’s Victorian house that we would later learn had been built and first owned by a British settler in 1930.

Familiar attire

He was clad in familiar attire, a checked, brown blazer (other times it would be checked-grey), but wearing no tie. He welcomed us gladly, looking at his watch as if to acknowledge we had done well to keep time.

With photographer Hudson Wainaina (RIP), we had clear instructions from then features editor Mumbi Risah, who had a knack for colour and unique details. Whatever it took, Mumbi had ordered, we must get a picture of Kibaki striking a golf ball and another with his wife Lucy. The future First Lady had then rarely been seen in public.

Rather than lead us into the house, the man who was then an opposition MP (having come third in the 1992 presidential election behind Moi and Kenneth Matiba), started walking us slowly towards a grove of indigenous trees, next to the house. We had already done introductions when we met him earlier at his Parliament office where he had insisted on getting written questions to what we wanted to ask him. He seemed to ignore the drizzle as he started talking, without waiting for a formal question-and-answer.

One of the things he said, but which he quickly warned we could not publish, was that he had not formed the Democratic Party on Christmas Day, 1991, when he announced he had quit Kanu. With a few of his bosom political friends (John Keen, Joseph Munyao, Eliud Mwamunga and Mwangi Maathai), they had been meeting secretly since 1989 to discuss the possibility of forming a party should the wind of change then rocking the world hit Kenya. Munyao last week affirmed the same when he sent his condolences to the Kibaki family. But during the interview in 1995, Kibaki still seemed in dire fear of offending Moi and begged us to omit that part in the printed piece.

Another thing he held against Moi, but which he placed a caveat against printing, was that he thought the former president was solely to blame for the economic morass Kenya found itself in and which Kibaki swore he could correct if elected in elections that were coming up in 1997. We asked him why then he had remarked in public that attempting to remove Kanu from power was like cutting a mugumo tree with a razor blade, to which Kibaki said was political talk not his belief.

He slowly led us back into the house, with his thinning hair looking wet, and welcomed us to breakfast. He introduced us to his wife Lucy who had already set the table, with largely traditional foods, sweet potatoes, arrow roots and plantains with a jug of brown uji on the side.

The photographer insisted on first taking a picture of the couple to which they agreed. They sat on a double sofa and put on warm smiles as the Nikon camera clicked away.

Over breakfast, Kibaki said he loved reading, especially biographies of great people and economic  journals. That morning he had the hard cover of Nelson Mandela’s Long Walk to Freedom lying on the table. Also playing in the background on a turn-table was a jazz number by Three Degrees, an American women-only band of the ‘60s. Lucy said Kibaki loved jazz by different groups and one was ever humming in the house when he was home.

Golf photo

By the time of the interview, they said their children (Judy Wanjiku, Jimmy Kibaki, Tony Kibaki and David Kibaki) had all left home and the parents were considering putting up a smaller house on their 15-acre Muthaiga land and renting out the old one.

Finally, it was time to leave and we were yet to get the golf picture. Muthaiga Golf Club where Kibaki was a member is about a kilometre from their house and he was dressed more for Parliament that afternoon than for the golf course.

We told him we really needed a golf photo. Far from the protest we had expected, Kibaki lit up with a smile and asked Lucy to call for his golf clubs, as he told us to give him a minute to change.

A servant brought the golf clubs just as Kibaki re-emerged, having changed into a polo shirt. He chose a suitable corner of the lawn and selected his favourite iron club, the Number Nine, as the servant placed a ball in the grass.

The future president’s demeanour changed into sheer delight as he eyed the Dunlop ball, acted as if he was on the range and struck it into the trees with precision. Our interview with Mwai Kibaki was over with all questions and pictures delivered as the editor had ordered.

The writer is the Chairman, Media Council of Kenya