If you are in your late 20s or early 30s, at the tipping point of self-discovery and awakening, then you will definitely agree with me that the passing on of President Moi, has been conflicting. Personally, I have struggled to read the endless acres of words in our newspapers or follow the interviews on TV celebrating the life of a man, who many loved to hate. A man who, in a show of fatherhood, led the hands of some like President Uhuru, paving the way for who he is today. Yet I’m reminded of many others like Kenneth Matiba, whose lives seemingly paused, courtesy of the same man.
At a time when we are fashioning the edges of our identities, curving the next decades of our lives, and sourcing for befitting mentors, both living and departed, it has been hard finding my voice during this period. But as Gabriel Oguda recently concluded, to those that he tortured, gagged and dispossessed of their dignity, Moi was BAD. And to those that benefitted from his rule, he was GOOD. So what exactly was he? Its a question I have accepted that I can’t answer, sadly. Its Vanity, as Solomon would say; a chasing after the winds.
And for those like me who believe in Heaven, I cannot rule the possibility of meeting President Moi there, when I finally die. Maybe he too, like all of us, was equally working out his salvation in fear and trembling, more so in his final days. Maybe, or maybe not. I don’t know.
What we however know is that life is for the living, and while we do, we must try to do our best to honor God by how we treat fellow men. For who can claim to love God whom they haven’t seen, if they cannot love their neighbor who they can see?
Fare thee well, Mzee Moi.