Musalia Mudavadi in Prison

CHAPTER 1

Contrary to what many of us have been led to believe. Hon Musalia Mudavadi was brought up in a humble background just like any other Kenyan in those early years. In his book, SOARING ABOVE THE STORMS OF PASSION, Musalia narrates of the turbulent times he went through in his pursuit for education.”I joined the University in September, in the Department of Architecture, Design and Development, or ADD as we called it.

My specific area was Land Economics. My roommate was a pleasant engineer student called Murigu, I lobbied in vain for a better room in a place like Kwame Nkrumah hall, which was more modern and with a bit of privacy but i however failed. What was irksome was that both those in the superior halls and those of us in the poorer abode did not pay anything for those facilities.

I had to contend staying in the same hall for the rest of the year and indeed the third year too. I was paired off with a certain Ndombi who was from Kakamega like me. He was another person altogether. He smoked Bhang and was extremely untidy. The floor was littered with dirty socks, untidy shoes, cigarette stubs and linen crying for washing. I did everything i could to stay out of that room.”.

Musalia continues to narrate how his roommate Ayiecha stage managed a theft in their room after borrowing a music system from his friend and since they were only two of them , everyone pinned the theft on him, They ended up writing statements at the police station. It was only when a Ayiechas friend , the owner of the music system went to visit Ayiecha upcountry an announced that he found his precious item right there, blaring away Rhumba and Benga numbers. The returned to the Campus and apologized to Musalia.

Musalia continues to narrate how after the attempted Coup of 82 they was picked by the police and taken to Kakamega police station. ” We were stripped of our shoes and clothes except for the most basic. We were afterwards taken to Webuye in Bungoma district. Here we had our first meal of Ugali and boiled white cabbage. The conditions were filthy, the talk scaring, it was only the beginning of what would follow.

We were taken to Nakuru where we were once again thrust into another police cell at the Railway police station. You walked barefoot through urine and human waste to the toilet. you tried as much as possible to avoid going to the toilet but in the end, nature won. On the third day they took us to Nairobi. There were many others like David Murathe, Richard Onyonka and Philip Murgor. It was about a week since i left my mothers house and nobody knew where we were.

We underwent gruesome interrogation, there was physical and mental torture. I was there for about two weeks undergoing Kafkaesque treatment. After what looked like infinity, i was eventually released and allowed to go home. I kept wondering aloud why anyone thought i could have been involved with efforts to overthrow a Government in which my own father served as a cabinet minister, i have never understood why. Chapter 2 continues