By Maseme Machuka
Ecstatic crowds of Ugandans lined the streets of several local towns as a convoy of vehicles snaked through the lush, green countryside.
Inside one of the vehicles — a dark Range Rover — Kenya’s former President Moi sat clutching his trademark baton.
The crowds flashed the thumbs up salute of the National Resistance Movement (NRM), with some singing and dancing along the road.
We rode in a different vehicle, eager to cover NRM’s 24th anniversary where Moi was to be guest of honour the following day.
The Ugandans may have mistaken the convoy for that of President Yoweri Museveni, but it was evident from the start that Moi has not lost the allure that pulls crowds to him. Flashback to the previous day at his Maji Mazuri home in Eldoret, where a rare moment with the former president had beckoned us.
Our car is ushered into his expansive farm by hawk-eyed security details both in plain clothes and uniformed General Service Unity (GSU) men at the gates. It is 2.30 pm.
Our turn
We are ushered into one of the houses where we wait for our chance to meet him.
However, he is still outside, where he is consulting with a delegation of elders.
After some time Moi calls us in through his press secretary, Lee Njiru.
"Wapi wale vijana ya Habari." (Where are the journalists?)
All the while, I was thinking: How do you address Moi? This is the man who, as a lad, I only watched on TV as he gave orders and directives.
What would I say if he draws us into a conversation?
Dressed in a flowery, pink African shirt and black trousers, he greets us warmly and welcomes us.
Stay informed. Subscribe to our newsletter
We introduce ourselves.
He then calls for tea to be served. "Wapi chai hawa watoto wangu wanywe. Wanaweza fikiria mimi ni babu yao mchoyo." (Serve some tea for these my children. They may think I’m a mean grandfather.)
His private secretary John Lokorio calls for the waiters as Moi is served last.
"Hawa ni vijana watoto," (these are merely children) interjects Moi as Njiru says some of us were born in the 80s.
But as it later turns out, my worries were unfounded. His humility and attention on us puzzles us as he makes us feel as if we were talking to an old friend.
The ice thaws as he narrates personal anecdotes he remembers from as far back as 40 years ago.
At one time, Moi says, during the height of racism in America in the 1960s, he travelled there and remembers how tough it was for black people. He narrated how they had to look for a hotel run by black people, where they could be safe.
We later leave for Eldoret town where we spend the night before our journey to Uganda.
At 11:30 am Monday morning we join the former president’s convoy of seven cars for the journey to Malaba border town where we are met by an ecstatic crowd.
He disembarks and addresses the gathering.
"Nyinyi ni wananchi wa upande wa Kenya ama muchanganyiko?" (Are you Kenyans only or mixed with Ugandans) he asks, then makes a brief speech on integration and cross-border business. One would easily have mistaken Moi for a sitting president as enthusiastic mobs waved the one-finger Kanu salute in an ODM stronghold.
On the Ugandan side, we are met by First Deputy Prime Minister in Uganda Eriya Kategaya and Kenyan High Commissioner to Uganda Major Gen (rtd) Geoffrey Okanga.
One of them was heard saying, "This man keeps time. He has arrived at exactly 2 pm. It’s amazing!"
During the anniversary celebrations in Mbale on Tuesday, Moi clutches his trademark baton as he chats up Museveni.
On the day of departure, we are up early. And Moi, the strict timekeeper that he is, is ready to leave by 6.45am.
Throughout the trip Moi strikes me as a down-to-earth man, quite unlike the tough-talking president I had seen on TV.