Tracing the roots and flow of life of the Agikuyu

By AMOS KAREITHI

Like a toothless giant whose face is upraised to the skies, the rusty, roofless building stares into space, its dirty looking stonewalls in sharp contrast with the two mud-walled, tin roofed round huts.

The partly burnt pieces of dead wood discarded near the gigantic muringa tree are like scabs carved out of the stem, leaving the cave-like opening in its stem like a gaping wound that has refused to close. The muringa tree, according to locals, is at least 800-years-old, meaning it could have happened long before the Bantu migration into Kenya from the Congo Forest, and long before, the Agikuyu set foot near Mt Kenya.

Gakuhi wa Kinyatti demonstrates how the Gikuyu used to pray facing Mount Kenya. [PHOTOS: AMOS KAREITHI/STANDARD]

Historians estimate that the migration of the community from West Africa to the foothills of Mt Kenya took place between 1200 and 1600, and trace its oldest age group Manjiri to 1512, going by accounts of Prof Godfrey Muriuki.

But since there are no records to support the age of the ancient tree, its age like the origin of the Agikuyu will be treated as a myth because National Museum of Kenya’s Central Assistant Director, Simon Gatheru says no carbon dating has been done yet.

Down the shrine’s overgrown path, a dried swimming pool has been marking its time, listlessly waiting for an opportunity that might never come, just like its neighbour, the cattle dip, whose trough has never encountered a drop of acaricides.

A heap of cold impotent ash of burnt bones and wood lies undisturbed in an improvised hearth where logs and stones mark the venue where Gakuyu elders have been holding ceremonies to initiate junior elders.

Diminutive inhabitants

"They wanted to establish a tourist hotel here. They built an amphitheatre, swimming pool, changing rooms and lodgings. We told them it was sacrilege but they would not listen to us. What a waste!" laments 68-year-old Gakuhi wa Kinyatti.

Decades later, Mukurwe wa Nyagathanga, has fallen silent as it has always been, devoid of any habitation according to the wishes of the community. Years of dereliction have compelled nature to reclaim some of the facilities, like the roofless building whose silhouette obstructs the skyline and the peaks of Mt Kenya, the seat of Mwene Nyaga (God).

But the story of the shrine goes back to a time when no records were available and the slopes of Mt Kenya were populated with diminutive inhabitants called Gumba, who have since become extinct.

Gakuhi’s eyes light up as he recounts the story by his grandmother by the fireside, a short distance from Mukurwe wa Nyagathanga, which he calls home. His is the story orally passed over from one generation to another, to descendants of Gikuyu about the original home of their ancestors.

Ten daughters

The oral history states that Gikuyu, the father of the community was summoned by Mwene Nyaga and commanded to proceed to the southern side of Mt Kenya to a groove. In the groove, Gakuhi recounts, there was one outstanding Mukurwe tree that had many nests of the gathanga birds. It was at this tree that Gikuyu found a beautiful woman, whom he called Mumbi (creator or molder) and started a family that yielded 10 daughters, but no sons.

The daughters, in order of seniority were Wanjiru, Wambui, Wanjiku Wangari, Njeri, Nyambura Wairimu, Wangechi Wangui, and Wamuyu.

When the daughters were of age, Gikuyu prayed to Mwene Nyaga again and was instructed to tell his daughters to go to the forest, where nine handsome men emerged and married the girls. Since the men followed the nine daughters to Gikuyu’s home, women became heads of their respective families and clans that bore their names. Wanjiru’s children became Anjiru, while Wambui got Ambui; Wanjiku begot Anjiku, and Wangari was mother to the Angari clan.

Njeri’s children belonged to the Acera clan, while Nyambura got Wakiuru or Ethaga and Wairimu’s children became Gathigia. Wangechi’s descendants became, Aithera Andu while Wangui’s children belonged to the Aithiegeni clan.

As fate would have it, the last daughter, Wamuyu did not secure a husband but nevertheless got children who were designated as members of the Aichakamuyu clan. Njamba wa Gicheha explains that as nyumba ya Mumbi (Mumbi’s house) expanded, the members spread out to the neighbouring areas bounded by Mt Kenya, Ngong Hilla and Aberdare ranges (Nyandarua). As heads of a clan and homestead, Gakuhi explains a woman was entitled to keep as many men as she could rule, because polyandry allowed her to marry multiple men who served her in her compound.

"Displeased with the oppressive and tyrannical rule, the men staged a coup. First they made sure all the influential women leaders were expecting babies, then organised an elaborate dance," Njamba adds. On the day of the big dance, the women as usual asked men to carry babies so that they could dance but the later defiantly refused and attacked the now weakened rulers. The men who staged this rebellion and liberated men from the women rulers belonged to the Iregi age group that reigned between 1827-1867.

Distinguished elders

The community’s affairs were run by a council of elders who comprised outstanding members of different clans who had distinguished themselves in medicine (Ago) leadership, (Athamaki) and seers (Arathi).

Although the descendants of Gikuyu and Mumbi have migrated to all parts of the country and the world, Mukurwe wa Nyagathanga has remained a shrine, and its four and a half acres of land has miraculously escaped several attempts to privatise or commercialise it. When Murang’a County Council started constructing a cultural centre at the shrine in the1980s, the residents of Gakuyu opposed the idea, dismissing it as sacrilege.

"We were opposed to the establishment of lodgings. This would not only desecrate the shrine but also lure our daughters away from home to immorality. That is why we opposed the project," Gakuhi adds. As soon as the facilities were completed, vandals invaded the shrine and carried away some of the roofing material, leaving the main building roofless. Earlier in 1952, the Government had established a home guard post right at the centre of the shrine from where locals were coerced to work without pay.

"Although the colonial Government had hurt the community badly by dishonouring our shrine, the homeguards at Gakuyu were quite safe from the wrath of the Mau Mau fighters," Gakuhi says. This was because the freedom fighters were unwilling to cause abomination by shedding blood at the holy shrine. This was what had motivated the colonial authorities into establishing the camp there.

However in 1957, a prophet, Kombo Gachuru could take it no more. He climbed a tall tree and shouted from its peak that whoever had desecrated the shrine pay a heavy price. The colonial Government misinterpreted the prophecy to mean that Mau Mau was planning to attack Gakuyu. It forced the villagers to dig a trench all round the shrine that was then fortified with sharp spikes. Though when disaster struck, it was from unlikely quarters and during the most unlikely times.

"I remember the incident vividly. At the time I was a pupil at the intermediate school and on that day, the sky was blue without a speck of a cloud. Suddenly, there was a thunderous clap and everybody cowed. Children screamed and ran."

Gakuhi narrates, adding," Later, we saw a ball of fire and thick smoke billowing from the direction of the shrine. There were desperate attempts to extinguish the fire, but to no avail. Luckily, nobody was burnt." The houses were rebuilt although from that day all home guards lived in perpetual fear until the camp was demolished later as the country geared for independence.

Today, there is not a single building belonging to the independence struggle era, although the years of occupation of the shrine by unfriendly forces are still etched in the memories of the people who were old enough at the time.

There have been other attempts to grab the precious piece of land by some individuals, but the local community continues to jealously guard this repository of history and culture.

To ward off schemers, all the land around the shrine has been fenced off and can only be accessed through a single gate manned by Murang’a County’s council guards.

National monument

The National Museum of Kenya has also gazetted the site as a national monument, although some of its land is still eyed by some religious denominations keen to establish a foothold at the community’s cradle. But rather than allow one religious group access while excluding others from the shrine, some residents of Gakuyu have suggested that part of the land be used to establish a maternity hospital.

This way, the Agikuyu at Gakuyu can continue the flow of life just like the Gathambara stream ceaselessly flows from its source at the cradle, forever feeding the larger Mathioya river in a cyclic cycle that is life. Like the evergreen Gathambara river, the ancient muringa tree has defied all odds and bears the scars of an attempt to burn it down by a careless visitor a few years ago.

But although the two traditional huts at the shrine belonging to Gikuyu and Mumbi may bow down to age, and the towering mukurwe trees swayed and broken by wind, forcing gathanga birds to fly away, the shrine will always remain indelible in the community’s collective memory.

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