Twenty-five years ago, I wrote an opinion piece for a national daily, arguing that Raila Odinga, bless his soul, would never be president of Kenya. I argued that people like Raila may be immensely popular, charismatic, and influential, but their role, predestined and predetermined by fate, is different – they are born to be kingmakers, rallying points, and forces that shape the course of politics, not to sit at its pinnacle.
The hand that anoints the king, said I, was never meant for the throne. The editor dismissed me as a wide-eyed, inexperienced pup, barking about the impossible-she, in essence, patted me on the head, saying I was a fine puppy, and I’d one day grow into a big dog…then she trashed the article. It’s not a good idea to be right when the boss is wrong, so I held my peace. In hindsight, all I can say, modesty observed, is that it is good, any day, that landlubbers listen and take notes when a sailor is making a speech about the sea, ships, and sailing.
Hindsight is the ability to look back and judge decisions or events in the light of how they turned out or suggest what might have been, had intervening variables been kinder. Hindsight often causes us to drift into two critical tools of analysis: counterfactual thinking and counterfactual history, where we ask, ‘What if?’
In 1902, under the Uganda Order in Council, the British Colonial Office transferred most of eastern Uganda to Kenya- Kisumu, Siaya, Bungoma, Kakamega, Busia, Nandi, and parts of Uasin Gishu and Trans Nzoia. At the time, these regions (which include the Luo and Kalenjin) were administered from Uganda’s Eastern Province, especially the Kavirondo region.
The reasons for the transfer were mainly administrative convenience and economic logic: The new Uganda Railway from Mombasa ended at Kisumu, so managing the region from Nairobi was easier. Further, Kenya was becoming a settler colony, and the British wanted fertile highlands to fall under that jurisdiction. Thus, for the sake of railway logistics and settler interests, Britain’s pen moved millions of people – and their destiny – from Uganda to Kenya.
The Luo and Kalenjin are twin pillars of Kenyan power – towering, unyielding, and elemental to the nation’s story. The Luo, eloquent and visionary, are the intellectual firebrands and conscience-keepers of Kenya, forever stirring the waters of reform and awakening. The Kalenjin, disciplined and strategic, are the quiet engineers of authority, masters of structure and survival. Together, they have defined Kenya’s politics, driven its economy, and personified its ambition – two peoples whose reach and resilience make them not just participants in history, but the very forces that bend it.
Consider Jaramogi Oginga Odinga. Luo by tribe, born in 1911 in Central Nyanza, he was one of the leading figures in Kenya’s struggle for independence. He was Kenya’s vice president, serving under Jomo Kenyatta (1964-1966) before falling out as all true Odingas do. Then his son Raila, we all know; he nearly became president on several occasions and once served as prime minister under Jomo Kenyatta’s son, Uhuru Kenyatta (2008-2013).
And how about a certain William Samoei Ruto, a Kalenjin, deputy president 2013-2022 and current president? That also means we have to talk about the earlier icon of the Kalenjin: Daniel Toroitich arap Moi, Kenya’s second president (1978-2002). Kenya has had three Kikuyu presidents and two Kalenjins. The Kikuyu have held the presidency longer – about 35 years – compared to the Kalenjin’s 27 (and counting). The Kikuyu dominated Kenya’s early and later politics through the Kenyatta and Kibaki dynasties, and the Uhuru era continued that lineage. The Kalenjin, though fewer in number, had the longest single presidency in Moi (24 years – the longest continuous rule in Kenya’s history).
Had the British not redrawn Uganda’s borders, consequently keeping within her fold men like Jaramogi and Raila Odinga, Daniel arap Moi, William Ruto, and many more, Ugandan politics would have taken a wholly different course. There would be no National Resistance Movement. No Yoweri Museveni. The Odingas and Mois were too sharp, strategic, and politically muscular. Their mix of intellect, charisma, and tactical brilliance would have made Uganda a crucible of vibrant, competitive politics. Power would rotate, Opposition would thrive, and the idea of one party dominating the State for decades would be unthinkable in such a political ecosystem. Usiku mwema, Bwana Raila. Mungu na akupokea kwa amani.