A TRIBUTE TO COMRADE ONYANGO OLOO:

A Reflection on
Kenya’s Social Justice Struggle
ONYANGO OLOO
1960 - 2019
 1

Onyango Oloo’s journey

Born to Richard Achwal Oloo and Jennipher Siare Voice of Kenya Television (VoK).
Wandolo in 1960 in Nakuru, Onyango Oloo was In 1982 Oloo enrolled at the University of Nairobi
the first born in a family of 10 - Janet Adhiambo, and in August of the same year, although he did
Washington Oloo Digo, Beatrice Ombiro, Ruth not have any role in either planning or executing it,
Awuor, Dorice Aluoch, Ochieng Oloo, John Otieno, OO was among hundreds of students who joined in
George Oduori and Sarah Akinyi. celebrating the short-lived coup that took place on
It is sad to mention that out of the August 1st the same year. The coup
ten siblings Oloo had lost six of that was led by Kenya Air Force
them over and above the parents. members occurred on the backdrop
Although he was born in Nakuru, of erstwhile clandestine activities
OO’s early education took place in that had been simmering at various
Nairobi while he was living with institutions of higher learning, with
his Auntie Alice Owiti. Oloo’s dad the singular purpose of improving
then worked with Kenya Prisons as Kenya’s governance.
a Senior Officer and owing to the In a move that was meant to quell
nature of his work, he was always the unrest, the government ordered
being transferred from one station the University of Nairobi closed
to the other across the country. and students were forced to go
Oloo’s mother was a very back to their homes. OO’s Uncle
committed Anglican, while Walter Wandolo organized for his
OO’s grandfather was among ticket and this is how he boarded a
the pioneers of St. Peter’s Luanda David Onyango Oloo Mombasa-bound evening train.
Anglican Church in Luanda, giving Although Nairobi city was the
Oloo a lineage of impeccable most affected, security personnel
Christian values. As he grew up OO’s leadership were deployed at various towns in search of escaping
qualities were visible for even as young as he was, he Kenya Air Force soldiers. It was when the train
took the responsibilities of a Sunday school teacher at stopped between Mtito Andei and Voi Station,
the local church. that Railway Police entered the train and asked for
During his mid-primary education, Oloo relocated to identification document. When it was Oloo’s turn,
Luanda but this was short-lived following the decision instead of displaying his national ID, he showed his
in 1972 by OO’s father to opt for early retirement, students card and that was what made the Police more
after securing a job with the International Casino in curious.
Mombasa, the family relocated to the costal town. As they sifted through OO’s luggage, the Police came
OO was a bright and intelligent boy evidenced by across an article he had been writing while on board
his attainment of the first position in every class he that had names of certain leaders, and this made
attended all through his early education. It was at them believe that it was part of seditious publications
the coast that he attended Baptist High and later that were being circulated clandestinely. OO was
Aga Khan School, where he completed his Form 6 in immediately arrested and booked at Voi Police
1981. Station.
Due to his love for English literature, Oloo was Aboard the train was also Patrick Muholi, a fellow
always active in plays, drama and debating clubs, and University of Nairobi student who upon arrival in
he featured prominently in quiz competitions and Mombasa, informed Oloo’s father about the incident.
debating programs that were produced by the then Although his father later travelled to Voi and tried
2
hard to secure his son’s release, he was not successful
a and Oloo was transferred to Nairobi where
he joined hundreds others who had also been arrested.
During the long trial that was always attended by
members of his family, there were plans to have
him sentenced for a few years if he pleaded guilty.
Knowing quite well the dehumanizing condition in
Kenyan prisons, Oloo’s father engaged 2 lawyers just
to make sure that his son was not jailed for a long
period.
However, Onyango Oloo defended himself and
emphasized that his conscience was very clear when he
wrote the article. He pleaded not guilty to the charges
and was thereafter jailed for five years for sedition.
While in jail, Oloo continued to be active and
together with other comrades, they even recruited
more people into the struggle. Even though there were
lecturers who were also jailed with him, Oloo not only
conducted lessons, but also continued to write while
at Kamiti Prison.
Although the political atmosphere in Kenya was still
dangerous, members of the family tried their best
to pay Onyango Oloo regular visits. The situation
not only drained the family economically, but it also
emotionally affected concerned relatives and close
friends, and the impact is still being felt to date.
Despite the fact that they were entitled to remission
political prisoners were expected to serve full term, a
move that made Oloo sue the Kenyan government in
1986 with the support of Amnesty International, an
organization that had earlier adopted him as one of
the 150 prisoners of conscience.
Although his appeal was successful and was freed with
damages, Oloo feared re-arrest and that made him
seek refuge in Tanzania. However, the possibility of
being repatriated back to Kenya from Tanzania was
real since it had taken place before. The situation
made Oloo and the rest of Kenyans to request for
resettlement to a third country.
After having stayed in Dar es Salaam for a year, Oloo
had an opportunity to either choose Benin or Canada.
He finally chose Canada and finally landed in the
country in November 1988 together with two other
Kenyans.
It was while in Canada that Onyango Oloo met like-
minded comrades from across the world among them
activists from Palestine, Latin America and South
Africa. Apart from his passion in writing, Oloo was
also introduced to marginalized communities, and
even discussed their plight while working as a radio
producer in Montreal.
In 1991 Oloo and Kathure Kebaara were blessed with
a son who they named Sankara, in honor of President
Thomas Sankara of Burkina Faso - a very successful
revolutionary leader and a Pan Africanist who was
assassinated in 1987, and was considered to be Africa’s
Che Guevara.
Oloo returned to Kenya to become the National
Coordinator of the Kenyan Social Forum in 2006,
and also served on the Organizing Council for the
World Social Forum Nairobi 2007.
Established in 2001, The World Social Forum is an
annual platform that brings together civil societies
to discuss how to address the negative impact of
capitalism globally.
After the global meeting, Oloo remained in Kenya
and engaged in a number of activities that included
the drafting Kenya’s Constitution 2010. Although he
relocated to South Africa, he returned to Kenya where
he mainly continued to volunteer his services with
occasional paid assignments even after having declared
his HIV status.
Beginning of 2019, Onyango Oloo had decided
to settle at K’Agina, Luanda Dudi and had even
constructed his home. One of his wishes was to set
up the Barack Obama Centre, a community initiative
that was to develop and act as a regional model
in addressing social-economic challenges in rural
communities.
A man who liked cooking and listening to music,
Onyango Oloo breathed his last on June 16, 2019
while he was on his way to Yala Sub County Hospital
for further medical attention. He has left behind
Sankara his son, sisters Janet Adhiambo Okeyo, Ruth
Awuor Oloo, Dorice Aluoch, and brother Washington
Oloo Digo.
Onyango Oloo will be buried at his newly established
home, adjascent to his grandfather’s ancsestral land
where his parents and the rest of the siblings were laid.
 3

Onyango Oloo was ahead of his time

Betty Wandolo-Wakhu is history...
My dear cousin Onyango Oloo, the I am over fifty years old now and
polite son of Aunty Jennifer. thought I was quite well schooled,
It is 23:00hrs as I write this tribute, learned, wise, well-spoken and alright
unable to get sleep or rest because as far as my contribution to mankind
Onyango won’t let me until I write, is concerned, especially being in the
so I will. teaching profession but today, 2nd
Thirty-seven years ago, I made my July 2019 after the big celebration at
maiden trip to the dreaded prison the National Theatre, my perspective
I had only heard and read about - changed as I reflected on Onyango’s
Kamiti, riding on a public bus with life, a life well lived, in servitude, a life
my older sister (late) Lilian. Those with purpose, a rich life. Onyango’s
days it took forever to get onto Thika struggle was his happiness, and his
road. My father, the late Walter, had asked us mind - his greatest companion.
to visit our cousin Onyango and we obliged
(actually, we didn’t have a choice like in the new WHAT IS A TRUE REVOLUTIONARY?
age parenting!). What is it like to crave real change and
When we got to the prison I happiness?
remember waiting for quite a Thanks to you Onyango, I
while before we were attended now know what it is not...
to (like most services in It is not people who rant and
Kenya) and finally asked to go rave, and do nothing about
in to speak to him. their situation.
As we did so, I was nervous It is not persuing things that
and wondered what state we are to your convenience.
would find him in, you see,
I watched a lot of ‘prison’ It is not wallowing in self-pity.
movies and thought I had an It is not self-absorbed or
idea of how prison should be From left to right: Dr Mary Oguna, Mrs Janet Ok- attention-seeking.
like. eyo, Mrs Betty Wakhu during Onyango Oloo’s It is not showy, loud and
So, we sat in this waiting room celebrations at the Kenya National Theartre, arrogant.
with walls of peeling paint, Nairobi. It is not swaying with the
looking pretty sad and solemn crowd.
but when Onyango came through behind the It is not hoarding and hiding knowledge and
bars (I didn’t realise ‘behind bars was literal’) experiences.
his face lit with a big smile and in his calm Onyango, what selflessness, what grace, what
demeanor, asked US how WE are doing?! I humility, what wisdom I have yet to find. You
was surprised but that warmed my heart and I were way ahead of your time and I wish we all
thought to myself “...prison isn’t that bad after learn from you and continue in your struggle-
all”. Little did I know that it was so horrific that when Kenyans refer to ‘Wanjiku’ I think they
Onyango had to hide it from us with his stories meant ‘Onyango’ - I will say no more but play
and smiles. I remember Onyango telling Lilian my part.
that there was a library and so he’s fine! The rest
4
We thank God for everything
By Janet Florence Adhiambo Okeyo
To my brother,
With tears rolling down my eyes,
coming to terms with the reality, you are
no more. I’m glad you died peacefully,
despite enduring pain and hurting
moments of heavy pain.
Being our first born, whose early childhood was
spent away from us, with Aunty Alice Owiti
in Nairobi, we missed you dearly in our midst.
Maybe our Dad had seen the potential in you,
and desired to give you, his first born the best
early childhood education. When you joined
us after Aunty
Alice relocated
from Nairobi
to Kisumu,
we enrolled
at our local
school, Luanda
Primary. By
this time we
had other
siblings,
Oloo Digo
(Washington),
late Joseph
Ochieng and
John Otieno,
our baby sister,
Mr and Mrs Richard Achwal Oloo
late Beatrice Ombiro was staying with Aunty
Alice.
I recall, how us primary school pupils our late
grandfather Jaduong, Isaya Oloo a staunch
Christian and our born again mother, has us
enrol for baptismal classes at Nyamininiya
Primary School, 5 kilometres away that we
never missed. During the lunch breaks we
had to attend the classes and dash back for
the afternoon school activities. Oloo loved
everyone, although we would be rushing back
to school, you always insisted, we must
pass by our Aunty Margaret Oguna’s
place and never left without some
snacks, bananas especially. Mama
Margaret is great farmer.
Your determination and pursuit for
success, as as an outstanding performer
and your spirit of excellence inspired
me to work hard, not to let you down. We
were always together and sometimes when our
mother, was away, we would step in as young
as we were, this gave us the opportunity to
bond and assume leadership responsibilities at a
tender age.
One day, our mother had gone shopping at
the local market, Dudi, only to come home
and find we had prepared ugali for our
siblings but it was half-cooked. Our mother
was not amused, we both ran to hide in our
grandmother’s bedroom but she found us there
and gave us a hitting that anytime, we were
together as adults, we recalled the day and
laughed off. Recounting our mother’s firmness,
her intolerance for mischievours behaviour and
her speed to instill dsicipline, the loss of her
children is heartbreaking.
Today, we pay tribute to her first born out of
the ten children she gave birth to. Only three
surviving? Sad indeed!
When we relocated from Gem to Mombasa,
we were delighted because we were going to
be one big family and our baby sister, late
Beatrice Ombiro joined us. Our Dad took
this bold decision when he opted for early
retirement from the civil service for a job at
the International Casino to give his family the
opportunity to be together and his children to
receive quality education. During my brother’s
teenage years in Mombasa, he was social and
had many friends, who became part our family,
brothers and sisters. This was evident from
what happened when we received the breaking
news of his arrest from his best friend, Patrick

From right: Washington Oloo, Onyango Oloo (behind), Grandmother
Doris Awiti, John Otieno, Joseph Ochieng’ (with tie) and Janet Okeyo
(behind).
The late Betty Oloo
Mukholi, another sad
moment, for Achwal
family, only two years
after we had lost
our mother, Jenifer
Siare Wandolo, who
succumbed to breast
cancer.
When OO
disappeared in our
midst, I immediately stepped in his shoes and
doubled up as a mother to support my dad,
who worked on night shifts and committed to
raise eight of us alone, we had two baby sisters,
Ruth Awour and Sarah Akinyi. My dad could
not afford to handle all the responsibilities,
so he delegated some of the tasks, visiting
my brother in industrial area during the trial,
attending court proceedings and consultations
with family members was mine. My brother’s
courage to fight for his rights and innocence
gave me hope and determination to control my
emotions and strength to focus of the journey
ahead of us as a family.
I admired his calm and composure during
the trial and eventual sentencing, my visits to
Kamiti Maximum prison while studying at
Kenyatta University, where I met some of the
relatives and families of his political friends.
Some of them became my mentors and support
structure. I will never forget Njeri Kabeberi and
Mumbi wa Kinyati.
5
From right: Joseph Ohieng’ (hands akimbo), Dad Richard Achwal,
Washington Oloo (infront of Dad, John Otieno, Onyango Oloo (behind
smiling), Betty Oloo (stripped T-shirt), Janet Okeyo.
The late Ochieng’
On the 17 June 2019,
at 6.30a.m, when
my sister Ruth Oloo,
broke the news of
your sad demise, I
could not believe
because, I had gone
to bed, not knowing
that as a struggle hero,
who had endured all
the suffering as youth in prison, torture, solitary
confinement, living in exile, total orphan,
became survivor and advocate of people living
with HIV, that you could leave us too soon!
It is a difficult moment for me to pay my
tribute, disappointed that I’m not a good
enough writer to pen down all that I wanted to
share. You will forever remain my Big Brother,
role model, mentor, and in later years, another
Richard Achwal, my dad who left us too soon!
The time we spent together in South Africa
compensated all the years you were incarcerated
in Kamiti, life in exile, returning home while, I
was away and many more.
Thank you for dedicating your life not only
to us but for our children and grandchildren
to be, knowing that you impacted many lives
despite dying as a poor man, as some have put
it. But we know our family values rests on love,
kindness, generosity and hard work.
6

Why I have been quite on Facebook

I am responding publicly to a message her cellphone in the
confronting me when I logged into Facebook apartment where she
and found this notification: lived with her daughter.
“93 people who like Jukwaa Discussion forum, The family has decided
haven’t heard from you in a while. Write a that Sarah is being buried
post.” in Durban on the 17th of
Well, it is true that I have not posted anything June 2017.
in Jukwaa for a while. As the first born of the
For a very simple reason: family - and especially
My second youngest sister, Sarah Akinyi Oloo since my mother died of
died on Saturday from a cardiac arrest cuased by breast cancer in December 1980 and my father
an embolism which had left her with a swollen died of a stroke in November 1996, I have had
knee. My other sister Janet - my immediate to be in Kwazulu Natal.
follower, had just arrived with a doctor friend June 13, 2017
to take Sarah to hospital when they found Onyango Oloo,
her collapsed on the ground clutching onto

Uncle wa Canada

From left: Jackline Otembo, Jackline Okeyo,Jenipher Okeyo, Samoei Christine Achwal Paula Okong’o Steve Oloo Jenipher Oloo
Oloo and Kennedy Okeyo.
Macy Oloo
Growing up, we always heard about our of admiration was his exceptional talent
Uncle who lived in Canada and who when it came to writing. his thought -
spent five years in prison. We were, provoking pieces and his moving poetry
therefore, eager to meet our famous made him a truly respectable author in
uncle. our family.
When he would call, he often asked Regardless of his illness, Uncle was sharp-
us what we wanted. Being kids, we would minded, able to engage in stimulating debates
give him a long list of what we wanted. He from religion to traditional Luo culture, and his
would entertain us for a while over the phone, passion: politics.
reassuring us that he would bring our presents He also spoke highly of his son, and it was clear
when he came to Kenya. that he loved Sanki.
Alas, we never received those gifts when he Lastly, we will remember him, as a man who
returned back home. However, what we received was passionate about his convictions and
was better than the superficial gifts we wanted. unapologetically himself. He truly fulfilled his
During our conversations with him, he enriched life purpose. Rest in power Uncle, until we meet
us with his worldly knowledge. Another point again.

Moi robbed us of our happiness
By Awuori
The last time I
remember seeing my
cheeky bubbly brother
was beginning of 82
taking my late sister
Sarah and I to Bobby
day Nursery school.
Months later, I saw my
dad and friends in the
livingroom talking in
undertones about an
arrest, and since then
our lives changed for
the worst!
But even after sentencing, dad was forever
hopeful seeing his son again someday and
he would tell us: “Onyango akifunguliwa
nitatandika gazeti nyingi hapa chini karibu na
kitanda changu alale” (upon Onyango’s release I
will spread lots of newspapers on the floor right
next to my bed for him to sleep) ...and my late
sister Sarah and I would wonder how special is
this brother of ours because years had gone by
and we the little ones had forgotten about him.
There were series of meetings at our place in
Mombasa with strict instructions that all doors his grandson for a long time then flip to other
and windows remain closed - truly arap Moi
brought so much pain and suffering over and
above the trauma that came with it.
As years went by my older siblings started
dating and dad remained with the two little
ones (Sarah and I) which eventually our big
sister Janet took us after getting a job as a
secondary teacher at Voi Secondary to ease
Baba’s burden.
I remember one time she dressed us well and
kept telling us “we are going to see Onyango, if didn’t have shortcoming - no!
the police ask your relation tell them you are his
children” and you can imagine the look we gave
Janet.
Anyway.... we played along and as we reached
the prison, I must have been so tiny or the gates
were humongously huge manned with guns
7
because I had never seen huge gates in my life.
Unfortunately Janet could not convince them so
we were left at the waiting area.
Fast forward....
In classs 4 on my way home a lady vendor who
knew my family stopped me to tell me that my
brother had been released as she points the front
page stroy with a lot of the newspaper with a lot
of excitement.
I must admit I was blank because yes the face
looked familiar but I couldn’t understand the
hullabaloo behind it, but reaching home I
passed the message to my big sister only then
i knew it was a big deal because my sister fell
down and started crying, its been a long walk
to freedom.. I remember Mwandawiro was
released a day before my brother and they all
knew my brother was next.
That was the first time my family was genuinely
happy and felt complete but before we knew
it he went into exile and my dad went back to
default settings, sadness was written all over his
face. He talked about Onyango year in year out
unfortunately he passed away before seeing him
again one last time. Though he would send us
family photos and dad would stare at Sankara
pictures he still wanted his physical son robbed
from him.
We only got the opportunity to spend time with
Onyango years later when he was appointed
National coordinator for the World social
forum.
Truly my brother was a force to reckon with!
From charisma to generosity regardless the
nightmares and insomnia he used to have
brought by the torture, this is not to say he
God knows how many times we picked fights
but at the end of the day he didn’t cease to be
my big brother.
I’ll miss his numerous phone calls to check on
me, inquisitive nature and infectious smile.
8
He encouraged me to write
Naledi “Mtembezi” Okong’o
My Uncle has been an intergral
part of my life as a child and as
a young adult. I recall fondly
his visits and going to visit him
back as a primary school child,
even though I didn’t compeletely
understand fully his line of work
as a political activist.
I liked to read his various books
on the subject and infact, he
is one of my inspiration for
pursuing history in high school and alongside
my mother Ruth Oloo, they encouraged me to
write.
“Naledi mtembezi” he would call me as
he removed his shoes before entering our
livingroom.
I was “mtembezi” (traveller) to him because
my mother a champion and activist in her
own right for PLWHA travelled four countries
How am I alive?
I turned 56, today,
Friday August 19, 2016.
Happy birthday to me,
David Onyango Oloo.
It was not always
obvious I would live to
see this day - and for that
I say thanks.
I could have died in a hail of GSU bullets on
Sunday, August 1, 1982, when as a very naïve
first year University of Nairobi undergraduate
I was among a throng of enthusiastic students
trooping past the police headquarters fists
shaking, arms waving, screeching pambana!
power! at the top of our young hope filled
lungs.
I could have passed away at Kamiti Maximum
any year between 1982 and 1987 when I
was incarcerated for “exciting sedition and
by road very pregnant with me and
my uncle was with her on phone
throughout the labor in Gaberone
helping her in breathing, so my
uncle holds a very special place in
my heart.
His line of duty as an activist
through perilous and thankless
in the past, has contributed our
democratic independence as a
country and ranked him as an
unsung hero.
Even though he was grappling with sickness,
he still kept a strong and willful spirit, striving
to be above his ailement and for this i admire
him.
As his niece, I prayed dearly for his full
recovery and constantly wished to see him
as he was; jovial, politically correct, (not
literally), knowledgeable and hearty but it was
not meant to be.
disaffection against the
Government of Kenya
by law established”.
Who knows? I could
have gone the way of
Githirwa wa Muhoro,
my fellow political exile
who died in Toronto
in February 1994; Mwakudua wa Mwachofi
another comrade who died in Wisconsin
in July 1996; Kariuki wa Gathitu, Gupta
Thiong’o, Njuguna Mutahi, Bantu Mwaura
or many of the dozens of my friends and
comrades who have rejoined the ancestors in
the intervening decades.
So once again, I am grateful to be alive today
to celebrate my fifty sixth year on planet
earth.

Sankara is born
On Wednesday, January 9, 1991 a
handsome young boy was born at the
Scarborough Centenary Hospital in
Toronto, Ontario, Canada. His mother
a twenty - something budding feminist
and environmentalist had made Canada
her home in the early 1980s. His father
had just hit his thirties.
Both parents were unanimous about
one name for the child even before he
was conceived, and boy or girl the name
Sankara was agreed upon. Sankara
His mother, a lapsed Catholic and his
father, a Marxist-Leninist atheist, had no time
for Christian-usually Jewish, English, German or
European-appellations. Instead because our son
was of Luo and Meru heritage, he has three other
names from his father’s and mother’s side. Just
African names.
Sankara grew up to be an intelligent, sensitive,
poetic, athletic child who did well in Tae Kwendo. email of this message so I will wrap up by saying:
From the time he was this high he became a
veteran of street demonstrations against police
brutality, marches against apartheid, meetings
on El Salvador, Northern Ireland, East Timor,
planning against the Moi-KANU dictatorship,
protests against environmental degradation,
solidarity with North American Native
communities and celebrations of LGBTI issues.
On his own, he developed a talent for poetry and
spoken word and is today respected among his
peers for his creative output.
Once when he was about six years old, I asked
Sankara what he considered himself to be in terms Secondly, let’s celebrate and honor Comrade Onyango
of nationality. He promptly responded: “Dad, you Oloo. Let’s honour this man for his contribution to
and Mom are Kenyans. I am African-Canadian”.
So there you have it.
Sankara has been to Kenya when I brought him,
his mother and step-brother to attend the 2007
edition World Social Forum held in Kasarani
and for someone who had grown up a long time
believing he was an only child, he was amazed to
discover the dozens of cousins, aunties, uncles and
grandmothers he had among his Luo and Meru
relatives. He was particularly impressed when I
9
took him all the way to Yiro, South
Ugenya to meet my auntie, my father’s
oldest sibling who died recently at
almost a hundred years old. Sankara was
amazed that this old woman a retired
employee address him in the Queen’s
English.
If I have one enduring regret, it is the
decision I made at the end of 2005 to
come back to Nairobi to head as the
National Coordinator of the Kenya
Social Forum headlining the Eastern
African Committee to plan for the 2007
WSF event. Because my trip was rather rushed, I
did not have time to explain to my son my abrupt
departure from Canada where I had been very
close to Sankara despite breaking up with Kathure
Kebaara, his mother, a few years ago.
I think I have said what I wanted to say and since
my son is an avid reader, I am sending him an
Happy Birthday Sankara!
Jan 9, 2018
Sankara’s Mother on OO
Kathure Kebaara
Comrades,
Firstly, unreservedly, I offer up a salute to our fallen
brother one Onyango Oloo, my friend, my teacher,
my comrade and my baby daddie!
and for truth in Kenya and the world at large. I know
it’s hard to believe that truth is anything; in this world
of straight up depravity and wickedness of the highest
order.
Onyango Oloo’s “baby sister” Ruth Awori Oloo
has encouraged us all to eat and make merry (as we
remember Oloo) because he loved food. This is true.
As many of us know, the brother also enjoyed other
things like music, reading, and writing.
10
The train connection
By Zarina Patel
I first ‘met’ Oloo in a train
corridor on the evening after the
August Coup Attempt as the train
hurtled on its way to Mombasa. I
had been in Nairobi to meet with
my Underground comrades and
the Coup had of course put a stop
to all such activities. It was no
longer safe to even try and contact
each other, so I decided to get
back home to Mombasa.
The train, needless to say, was
packed choc-a-bloc. There was
nothing like bookings or seating arrangements;
I stood, occasionally squatted when I could,
in the narrow corridor all the 14 hours down.
Every person kept to herself or himself, there
was no conversation just a complete sense of
shock, bewilderment and the odd panic.
And there in the middle of all this chaos, jam
and anxiety I saw this figure of a young African
lad squatting on the floor furiously scribbling
OO was against paid activism
James Karanja Ng’ang’a
OO was totally
committed to his political
work and was talented for
activism. He had good
memory and spoke and
wrote very well. He was
critical of paid activism
which he saw as the
polite sister of counter
revolution.
He said paid activism was
sponsored, controlled and
managed by counter class interests.
He sought activism anchored in the grassroots
away seemingly oblivious to all
that was going on around him.
I later came to know via the media
that this lad was Oloo. He was
arrested with the notes he had
scribbled.
Many years later he called me
from Canada to engage and after
he returned to Nairobi he was
always in touch with Zahid and
myself.
That was Oloo – focussed,
committed and totally dedicated
to the cause. He did not do the
work for any personal glory, it is a lesson we
need to learn. And Oloo was brilliant. He
had a phenomenal memory and remarkable
ideological clarity well versed as he was in
Marxist Leninist theory.
We always looked forward to his blogs to shine
a torch on our present and our future in Kenya.
His humanity, humility and caring will never be
forgotten.
Some of University of Nairobi students who were arrested in 1982
together with OO.
which was true and pure though poor.
He was totally committed to the struggle to the
very end, and was not motivated by greed for
position or money. Indeed, true commitment
matters.

OO with MM: Double Trouble?
Katiba has a Bill of
Rights which protects
fundamental rights and
freedoms. It is worth
noting that the man
under arrest, Miguna
Miguna, was one of the
authors of that seminal
document.
Miguna and Onyango
Oloo are virtual
Miguna Miguna contemporaries with
only a few years
separating our birthdays. Apart from our
common origins in western Kenya, which is
usually the first thing that that tribal obsessed
Kenyans notice, we have a lot in common. We
are both radical activists. We both attended the
University of Nairobi although I was a few years
ahead before I was imprisoned for sedition. We
both left Kenya the same year 1987 and ended up
in Tanzania - although Miguna and his expelled
UoN student comrades relocated briefly to
Swaziland before being welcomed as government
assisted refugees in Canada.
Onyango Oloo, together with two of his
colleagues Justice Maurice Adongo Ogony and
the late Githirwa Muhoro were welcomed to
Toronto by Miguna, Anampiu, Obanda and
others who had arrived a few months earlier.
We quickly became close friends, living in
the same metropolis of Toronto. Miguna had
resumed his undergraduate studies at the
University of Toronto and soon moved on
to study to be a barrister and solicitor at the
Osgoode Law School located at York University
in the northern part of the city. Upon graduation
Miguna represented refugee claimants and
people dealing with difficult immigration cases
from Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, the Caribbean
and South Asia. Onyango Oloo assisted by
recommended a few clients to Miguna.
When the retired Chief Justice Dr. Willy
Mutunga arrived in Canada to pursue his
11
Rowdy ODM supporters physically confront Miguna
Miguna during his book launch in Kisumu.
doctorate degree in law, a small group of us made
a progressive knot of Kenyan activists. With the
formation of a pressure group opposing the Moi-
KANU dictatorship and agitating for reforms,
Miguna and Willy were elected to the helm of
the group while Onyango Oloo, Adongo Ogony,
Omondi Obanda, Kathure Kebaara, Wangari
Muriuki and Atieno Odenyo were among its
most dedicated foot soldiers.
I was back in Kenya in October 2005 for
the Kenyan Social Forum as the National
Coordinator. Miguna also followed a few years
later when none other than Raila Odinga himself
personally went to Toronto to recruit him as a
member of his upcoming Presidential bid.
We soon reconnected and quickly became two
of the most well read and prolific contributors to
Jukwaa, a popular online forum that Onyango
Oloo founded in August 2005 and administers to
date.
When Miguna Miguna fell out with his boss,
then Prime Minister Raila Odinga, Onyango
Oloo remained very close to the outspoken
lawyer. Oloo acted as the MC when Miguna was
launching his first book, the controversial Peeling
Back the Mask and even its follow up, Kidneys for
the King.
Kenyans can no doubt recall the altercations
we had with die hard Raila supporters in the
course of our book tour in Kisumu, Nakuru and
Mombasa.
Dear reader can you now understand the flood of
tears streaming down my face in Durban?
- Onyango Oloo, February 5, 2018
12
Oloo’s fight against land grabbers
I left the MP Shah Hospital approximately an
hour ago.
I was in the Casualty Section of the Hospital
being treated for a fresh arrow wound from an
assault inflicted by a horde of Maasai speaking
militia wielding machetes, bows and arrows,
iron bars, rungus and other crude weapons.
Our attackers are employees of the PCEA
Church with an assignment to guard a
controversial piece of public land in Kibarage
on Peponi Road across from the Westgate Mall.
Davinder Lamba, the Executive Director of the
Mazingira Institute, founder and leading light
of the Operation Firimbi campaign against land
grabbing and corruption, was set upon by the
same vicious assailants who clobbered him on
the back, shoulder and upper arm.
On the evening of Friday, July 11, 2014,
Davinder Lamba got a call from Henry
Mudogo, an activist and trader in Westlands
inviting him to a public meeting convened by
area MP Tim Wanyonyi to discuss growing
concerns about a parcel of land at Kibarage
River site adjacent to Peponi Road.
This area is part of the wetlands designated as
public land. Since the 1990s, these wetlands in
Westlands which extend far beyond the above
area, have been grabbed by well connected elites
before being hived off by private developers and
speculators, endangering flora and fauna and
the environment.
It was agreed that Davinder Lamba would
meet with the MP at 10 am and provide
the legislator with a detailed briefing on the
history of protests and campaigns to conserve
the Kibarage site-actions in which Mazingira
Institute and Green Belt Movement have been
at the forefront for almost twenty years.
Onyango Oloo, who is a senior writer with
the Operation Firimbi Bulletin, was part of a
delegation which included Lillian Muchungi
and Vertisine Mbaya of Green Belt Movement;
Kibe Mwangi and George Njoroge of the
Onyango Oloo with Davinder Lamba of
Mazingira Institute, a day after they were
attacked in Nairobi.
Westlands Environmental Caretaker Group
which met with National Lands Commission
Chairman Dr. Muhammad Swazuri on June
25, 2014, urging the NLC to intervene in
the matter in order to suspend the ongoing
construction of a perimeter fence pending
further public consultations on the legality of
the development at the site. It is understood
that the Presbyterian Church of East Africa
claims to have a title deed to what is presumably
public land.
The National Land Commission responded
by visiting the site a few days ago, and later on
issuing a letter dated July 8, 2014 and copied
to Nairobi Governor Dr. Evans Kidero and the
OCS, Spring Valley Police Station advising that
any activities on the Kibarage River site Peponi
Road be suspended immediately.
At the site were almost two dozen heavily armed
men and construction workers. We had not
walked more than a few steps when we were
surrounded from the back and the front by the
same armed men demanding in loud voices
what we were doing on the pavement.
They were wielding their pangas, bows and
arrows and other crude weapons as they
pounced on Davinder hitting him viciously
with iron bars. They also rained blows and kicks
on Henry after shooting him on the forehead
with an arrow. He lost his mobile phone in the
 13

process. fence) felt so threatened as to retain a

Another attacker aimed an arrow at Onyango
Oloo hitting his upper arm.
Fortunately, even though the arrow was
embedded, it turned out to be a superficial flesh
wound.
It was not immediately apparent why the PCEA
Church (the alleged “owner”of the parcel of
land who is listed on a notice board inside
the compound as opposed to being placed
prominently along Peponi Road as the client
who commissioned the construction of the
battery of ferocious armed men to
guard the controversial Kibarage site on
a 24 hour basis.
Hon. Timothy Wanyonyi denounced the
outrage and when he later visited the scene of
the unprovoked violent attacks together with
his supporters, he was also indiscriminately set
upon by the same mob.
- By Onyango Oloo, recuperating somewhere
in the Kenyan capital, July 12, 2014

A down-to-earth Comrade
By Josiah Omotto equity and accountability.
One of our most consistent advocates of OO resisted the
conscience - Double O, “ceased to think” temptation to take
(Engels) - once more a painful loss to recourse in the
the human rights and good governance condescending. Ever
movement - we mourn. articulate and immaculate
Today, we are reminded of the tribute - a persona not given to
Frederick Engels gave at the graveside of gramophoning recycled
Karl Max, I quote in early 1883: “the simple ideas. This is the Onyango
fact hitherto concealed by an overgrowth of Oloo that ceased to think.
ideology is that mankind must first of all eat, We are aware of your last years on earth
drink, have shelter and clothing before it can and the challenges in securing “food, drink,
pursue politics, science, art, religion, etc”. and shelter”. We take this opportunity to
Onyango Oloo, over the past decade, we commend the family, friends and Comrades
recall the many who stood up with
moments you you during those
crossed over from difficult, moments.
the CBD to join You spent your last
us in Kibera and years in Dudi, Yala
Mabatini in South and Siaya: with the
B to “eat, drink” people, in solidarity.
and share as we This Friday, in Dudi,
discussed topical the music plays at
issues of the day many of the joints -
Kibera informal settlement, one of the locations in Kenya
- your consternation where OO frequented. kasinda, ngima miyiero,
at the descent of the etc. One of their patrons
National Land Commission into the murky of conscience, ceased to think, a couple of
waters of rent seeking, your desire for the days ago. And we cry.
voters to exercise free will, your insistence on As we dance. Rest in power, friend of our
internal party democracy: your aspirations for Odindo Opiata.
14
Oloo changed my life forever
By Ruth Mumbi
- Bunge la Wamama Mashinani
(BLWM)
I met Onyango Oloo back in the
year 2009 when I was still new to
the social justice movement, its ways
and the marvelous faces keeping its
wheels spinning. While there were marvelous
faces, Onyango Oloo’s face formed a critical cog
and gear levers of this movement. That year, I
became one of the young women organizers he
met and changed the life of forever. As the years
progressed I became acquainted to him through
his intellect, and charming ways of demystifying
complex global matters into simplified language
that we applied in our grassroots community
organizing. He became one of the great
minds whose moral compass and guidance
meaningfully shaped my organizing.
When we met, Mulialia Okumu and I were
attending an event in Makadara then organized
by Fahamu. Onyango Oloo was one of the
panelists. After the event, Onyango pointed out
to Mulialia that he wanted us to accompany
him to a convening at the Centre for
Multiparty Democracy as part of the organized
international solidarity for the Cuban 5.
In that conversation, in my unawareness, I
asked Onyango what - a conviction of 5 Cuban
individuals accused of committing espionage
by the US government - had to do with our
struggles or rather my struggle here in Kenya.
Especially, being a young woman from a low-
income area.
In 2010, I had identified my niche as a
coordinator for Bunge La Wamama Mashinani
during the constitutional making process, by
this time Onyango Oloo and I had met several
times and he had offered to assist us with
documenting the ‘Warembo ni Yes,’ a campaign
that was meant to mobilize the power of young
women to understand their increased rights in
the draft constitution.
As young vibrant, upcoming women’s
organizers - we had not realized that
part of his passion and engagement
with us - was due to the fact that he
was following his passion, championing
women’s political, economic and
cultural participation in all spheres of
life.
In the upbeat of this campaign we once sat for
tea, if anyone has organized within the Nairobi’s
CBD (especially Bunge La Mwananchi
members), then you know ‘Kwa Mustafa.’
By this time, Onyango Oloo had resolved to
call me ‘Dada Mdogo,’ an endearing phrase
I had come to love. Together with the late
comrade Odipo, we were busy enjoying tea and
discussing movement theatrics when I received
an email. The content of the email stated that
I had gotten an opportunity to participate in a
feminist gathering with Feminist, Leadership
and Movement Building Institute. I was taken
by surprise, and in my response shared with
them that I did not know what being a feminist
entailed.
Oloo’s remark was, “Well I hope you are a
feminist,” and went on to explain to me,
what role, as African feminists, the women
nationalists had played in the Kenyan liberation
movement in the 1900s.
In this charged conversation he insisted that
it was my work to do research on the likes of
the late General Muthoni Nyanjiru and Field
Marshal Muthoni Kirima. In his wisdom, he
connected their work to the Second Liberation
movement of the 90’s where the likes of Micere
Mugo whom he truly adored fought, among
others.
It was at this point that my journey, consciously
as a feminist began. It is for this reason that
I am here with you today to pay tribute to a
comrade who showed me the importance of
self- education and identified my feminism even
before I had known myself.
For those who were privileged to encounter

Onyango Oloo, we know that he never failed
to show up for you, once he deemed you a
friend or comrade. Many a times in my feminist
organizing (especially in the online spaces) I was
met by backlash from misogynistic, patriarchal
and sexist men, who used their platforms
to attack my character and work. And Oloo
constantly wrote them back, with poise and
confidence that sent them back to their silence.
I will miss sharing his famous spiced tea. And
how he had mastered a way of saying, very
radical things in his speeches with calm, and
politeness that baffled many. And I will cherish
our conversations that were abundant with
lessons, strategies and hope for a better Kenya.
And especially a future of women’s liberation.
This is how I am choosing to remember him, as
a diverse, brilliant, charming and big- hearted
man. Whose choice of the struggle over money,
saw him die the death of a revolutionary just
like;
Che Guevara, died
Muthoni Nyanjiru, died
Comrade Jacob Odipo, died
Oloo, A Lesson of Human Resilience
By J. Miano
I had interacted with Oloo both at KHRC
through HURINET and CMD through
Njeri in 2005. But I had met him much
earlier in the mid-90s through reading his
numerous articles on topical issues that he
circulated through email. On encountering
him in the flesh, my initial impressions were
of a quiet activist but a very intense person
as I was to later realise. His calm, unruffled
exterior belied a stubborn defiance.
I will always remember his compassion
and kindness. This was manifest after I had
left KHRC in the circumstances that I did
in mid-2006. He reached out and offered
me a role in the World Social Forum 2006
secretariat having heard about my exceptional
planning and mobilising skills in the human
rights, democracy and governance (HDG)
15
Mama Winnie Mandela, died
Malcolm X, died
Tupac Shakur, died
No person who chooses the revolution dies in
comfort, and his death is one indicator of this.
Some of the words uttered by our comrades
was that he died in poverty. What this fails to
capture in entirety is that his ideas and wisdom
were in abundance, and they continue to live
within us here today.
Onyango Oloo was not for material wealth. He
was for the movement.
The truth is, Oloo had started dying, a slow
death, way before breath left his body, the
movement had failed him, his comrades had
failed him, life had failed him, and the world
had failed him.
In the famous words that have honored the
death of Che Guevara. I’d want to say this to
our departed comrade, mentor Big brother and
friend.
‘You may kill a revolutionary, but you can never
kill the revolution.’
Long live the Spirit of Onyango.
sector then, not to mention that I am feminist,
and I believe Oloo was feminist too.
However, at the time, I was grieving many
losses including a job that I passionately loved
but for the burn out I had suffered from
myriad personal challenges. In my broken
state, I did not take up Oloo’s attractive offer.
I was consumed by guilt but I hoped Oloo
understood why in his own intuitive way. WSF
2006 still went on regardless of my temporary
‘paralysis’. Today, I know better and have learnt
to live in the moment. That no matter what,
life creates space for all of us to become.
We need to recognise the enormous energy of
human resilience which drives us to achieve
beyond our imagination. The life of Oloo aptly
demonstrates this energy. Suffice to say, Oloo
is in a better place, free at last to rest with the
ancestors.
16

Lament Re-membering OO Shujaa of the Second Libera

What price we pay Some of us are gone anyway
We who asked for nothing So the tears and jeers will hurt us not now
Though we knew if we trod a different path But your fighting and bickering
We could win more, and more of futile Will surely make our lives and sacrifice
We who toil and strive to clean the mess Unworthwhile
A mess, which we did not create As you rip up the glorious legacy
But the greedy, the heinous, who pretend, Of Onyango Oloo
But love this country not Of Mekatilili
But only themselves Koitalel
We spend time and pay Moraa wa Ngiti
Trying to clean, clean each time Kimathi wa Waciuri
To mop up Wangari Maathai
From dawn to dusk Bantu Biko
While keeping the eye fixed on the prize The living and the dead Shujaa
Of freedom And the retinue of those who suffer,
Even when time is fast running out! Torture, jail, exile, poverty, hunger, illness, death
Who have perished
Now we leave one by one
For this land then, again and now again!
Justly or unjustly
Some, unseen, unsung, unknown to you
Mainly suffering and in agony
Continue every day,
Alone, praying that it is not in vain
From where those who leave, leave
And asking only one thing:
Continue, continue! We plead!
That you desist to do the bidding of the enemy
“Organize don’t Agonize”
unasked
Principled
In our name
As Abdulrahman Babu and Tajudeen taught us
By fighting over who did what and when for us
Sing! Sing the songs of the past and of our dreams
Who did more!
Continue to chisel away We chose this path
With whatever you are, whatever you have Believe us
Chisel like mad like the ants, disciplined We did not expect to die as we do, no, not now!
An army, who knows its purpose With a constitution the world would envy
Against the main enemy Yet so empty for the millions, hollow;
Is all we ask And a county and nation, many would die for
Against decay, injustice, rot, greed and violence Yet at the height of unprecedented rot
For plenty, for justice and for equitable We could not even imagine that we could sink yet
distribution lower
Which is our right So low
Not tear ourselves apart! When our price has been paid for, over and over
 17

eration - My Steadfast Brother, My Comrade, My Friend

again Let no other OOs continue to perish
Violence, rape, murder, corruption greed and theft Collectively or alone
What future are we laying Alone!
But yet, we make that choice Promise!
Of sacrifice and in Onyango Oloo’s case That is all I ask of my comrades
The ultimate sacrifice My kinsmen
Not imagining that others will have to pay again My sisters
too My friends
A third and fourth time! And even my foes
Unforced Kenya and Africa are large enough for all of us
They gave up youth, families, livelihoods, Remember the fallen and those who fall all
everything around us
Eyes open, open wide Daily, with no roof over their heads, no food
And it is not fashionable or sexy to die Who pay, not a romantic price
Or to fear to die, or lose your loved ones Because they do not choose
Or be jailed or live in exile, outside society Disease, homelessness, poverty and hunger
Face torture, exclusion, misunderstanding, hate And they are the majority
For fighting for justice Who pay the ultimate price
As you can all see! And who will continue to perish
Believe those who have died, If we fail to keep the eye on the prize
The living who continue to strive, Our freedom, justice, our defender, equality and
The detained, the tortured inclusion
It does not even look like our land, the horror The dream of sharing the bounty of our God given
land
We are not made of steel
Paid for by our ancestors
We are Kenyans like every one of you
By the Shujaas living and dead!
No different
We will pay the worst price of negligence
Yet we chose and choose a different path
For which there cannot be forgiveness
To offer just our small drop of tithe or time
Therefore, for them for us
To create an ocean of freedom, peace and justice
Desist and keep focus
Of plenty, that is promised within our borders,
Our country needs us all the more now!
The highest covenant of our nation and us to it
A luta continua!
To honor and obey, until death does us do part
Wakenya wasema: Twendelee Mbele
So close, yet so far from our reach
Through a few, who stand in our way By Anonymous Mzalendo
Against the dream and gift
Of our ancestors
For which they and others paid and continue to
pay
18
Torture has been left hanging
By Irungu Houghton
Democracy activist and former
Prisoner of Conscience (David)
Onyango Oloo past but his sunset
years were increasingly more difficult.
Why do the Kenyans that put
almost everything at personal stake
for the country suffer so much?
More ironically, why do some of
those that violate the rights and
dignity of others suffer almost as much in the
end? The answer lies in the way that human
rights violations indignify both survivors and
offenders alike.
‘Double O’ as he was affectionately known
to his friends, grew up under the one-party
state. He was an active leader in the university
student movement in the 1980s. When the
repressive state pushed freedom of expression,
assembly and association
underground, with others
he joined themwakenya
underground movement.
Enforced disappearances,
detentions without trial, torture
and lengthy jail terms was the
response to calls for democracy,
an end to corruption and social protest.
Alongside 150 other Kenyans, Amnesty
International adopted Onyango Oloo as a
Prisoner of Conscience for his courage. After
his release, he fled into exile to organise for the
release of other political prisoners.
As the democratic space widened in the 1990s,
he returned home to organise people for social
justice. Onyango was deeply ideological. He
believed that only democratic socialism offered
another world free of our inequalities and the
state neglect of most Kenyans.
More intriguingly, for most Prisoners of
Conscience and their captors, this period came
at a cost to both. Fellow detainee and National
Victims and Survivors Network Secretary
Wachira Waheire survived his imprisonment
to interview his own torturer.
He describes the victim/torturer
relationship as “complicated”. The
torturer is also a victim. Refusal to
torture a fellow Kenyan is not seen
as an option. It requires a belief that
you are on higher moral ground, the
state is under threat and people will
be forever grateful. It also requires
a degree of dehumanisation, sadism
and joy in hurting others.
As they too, were forgotten or despised by
younger generations, many of the former
torturers have struggled with guilt, stigma,
mental depression, suicidal tendencies,
alcoholism and uncontrollable rage. With
no victims to dehumanise and hurt, these
tendencies slowly surfaced in their homes and
communities.
Constitutional Articles 25 and
28, the Prevention of Torture
Act (2017) and the National
Coroners Service Act (2017)
were inspired by a promise to
end the violence of the colonial
and the post-colonial periods.
Torture is now outlawed unless
Kenya is political unstable, in a state of war or
facing a public emergency. Any person or state
officer who tortures another faces imprisonment
of 25 years or life if their victim dies.
Torture and inhumane treatment still happens
in our Republic and such cases must stir the
Office of Attorney General into action. It is
time to dust off the two Acts and develop
rules and regulations that guide their
operationalisation. Further delay dishonours the
memory of torture survivors like Shujaa (hero)
Onyango Oloo.
Without these rules and regulations, it is not
possible to keep our officers lawful and the rest
of us safe from unlawful torture.
* Above photo: Nyayo House BasementTorture
Cells.

The need for solidarity
By Abdulrahman Wandati
Solidarity leads to congregation.
Congregations are around a matter.
Congregation raises attention
to the matter and highlights its
urgency. Concern over the matter is
demonstrated. The congregants show
their care for the matter.
A better Kenya is an urgent enough concern
around which to congregate. A better Kenya,
if not for us, for our off-springs, is a strong
enough necessity for congregating in solidarity
and legitimate enough to take as the identity of
the congregants. The Congregants – the ones in
solidarity, have dared to imagine a better Kenya.
Egalitarian, Equitable, sustainable; in any case,
supporting life in abundance.
Our solidarity is inspired then, by the present
but is functionally for the purpose of delivering
the future. A future we dare to imagine. The
future of sufficiency for all in freedom and social
care. I see solidarity as demanding, requiring
that we each lay ourselves bare before those like
us, who share the conviction and Vision of a
better Kenya. Those who have taken the first
step towards turning the vision into a reality.
Solidarity is when all that one controls (skills,
knowledge, assets, even dreams) is declared
and surrendered for the common benefit of
the cause. Solidarity is sacrifice of among other
things, comfort, privilege, most times, even
emotions. All these may be sacrificed in our
case, as personal contributions towards the
egalitarian, equitable, sustainable and therefore
a better Kenya.
Put another way, Solidarity is in essence, being
a full time Soldier in the cause as was Onyango
Oloo. He was a true Soldier at that. He died
on the Frontline. He touched, inspired and
influenced many. Others whom he met and
other whom he had not.
Our congregation on this platform is testimony
to this. He wrote convincingly, He argued
respectfully, he lived simply and honestly. I
19
followed him, courtesy of the Internet.
I benefitted from his research –
especially as it related to the theory of
Civil Society.
Onyango Oloo knew I was not a
declared Marxist- Leninist as he was,
but a Muslim. This is important in
the light of the conversations that have been
taking place since his demise regarding about
ideological legitimacy.
Conversations that seemed to suggest that
only persons of certain declared ideological
persuasions – in this case Communism.
Conversations that suggested that being a card-
carrying member of the Communist Party is a
primary criterion for being a “true soldier” of
the cause for a better Kenya.
And finally conversations that declared Marxist-
Leninism to be the only source of the truth that
directs ideological discussions on this platform.
In this identity I am clear in my mind of the
causes I enlist in. There is no requirement in
that identity that I require of any Comrade in
arms that S/he first take the Shahadah. This
Identity gives me leave to stimulate my intellect,
strengthen my body and nourish my spirit/soul.
I choose to read all literature including Marxist-
Leninist for intellectual stimulation, adopt a
healthy lifestyle for my body’s sake and for my
spiritual nourishment and guidance, rely on the
word of Allah and the teachings of the Last of
His Messengers (Upon whom be peace). And
I shall be as good a Comrade to our departed
Comrade and to the others, as the next Guy.
This to me, is Solidarity and I am a soldier for
the cause.
“Solidarity does not assume that our struggles are the same struggles,
or that our pain is the same pain, or that our hope is for the same future.
Solidarity involves commitment, and work, as well as the recognition that
even if we do not have the same feelings, or the same lives, or the same
bodies, we do live on common ground.”
- Sara Ahmed (2013) “The Cultural Politics of Emotion”
20

My brother, friend, confidant and teacher

By Francis O’Palla exceptional ability to grasps political
Onyango joined a group of students who concepts quickly and put them to good
had been jailed to periods ranging from six use in analyzing history and putting
to ten years, making it to the long list of contemporary historical events into
political prisoners jailed, detained or exiled perspective.
to stem dissent against the Moi regime. Onyango was not satisfied with our group
Amongst the political prisoners that discussion and boldly embarked on a
Onyango joined were myself, Thomas Mutuse, unique kind of evangelism: to convert prisoners
Ephantus Kinyua, into Marxist-
Titus Adungosi, Leninists. Due
Muga K’Olale, to his humble
Oginga Ogego, personality,
Wahinya Bore, friendliness, and
Jeff Mwangi and gift for eloquence
Maina Kinyatti. he soon had
A number of
political prisoners
came for short
stints and left us
continuing with
our sentences. From left: Wahinya Bore, Maina wa Kinyatti (partly hidden), Jeff Mwangi,
Prison condition Onyango, Seronei and Francis O’palla. Right photo: The leader of the
was made worse 1982 coup Hezekaia Ochuka gestures in a Nairobi court during his trial.
by prison warders Others who were also arrested included, Musalia Mudavadi, Moses
who constantly Wetangula, Richard Onyonka, Isaac Ruto, Gitobu Imanyara, Shem
reminded you that Ochuodho, Oginga Ogego, Wachira Waruru and David Murathe.
you have failed
yourself - ‘ ulipiga many follows speaking in
butter teke” as they would put it. Humiliating Marxist-Leninist terminologies and calling on
treatment test your will to survive to the limit. him to explain or clarify political issues that
Being stripped naked and occasional hit with they found intriguing.
a rungu for resisting uncalled for orders. Being Terms like dialectic materialism, bourgeoisie,
put in isolation without food. class struggle, lumpem, proletariat, hollo polloi,
We bore all these and many others stoically. sharp contradictions soon found home between
However, what really kept us sane was the prison walls thanks to Onyango’s evangelism
Institute of Politics that we created in prison and mobilization skills.
and Onyango Oloo was a prominent teacher of Using his rare intellectual gifts, Onyango
this Political Science master class. He sourced constantly reached out to all and sundry to
political literature that we read voraciously and expound his vision and understanding of what
discussed intensively. He chaired many tutorial it takes to create a just society. He won many
sessions and explained concepts lucidly. hearts by doing this in a way that is both
In the master class, Onyango Oloo impressed practical and non-condescending.
me with his general intelligence and his

Oloo taught me in jail
By Gitobu Imanyara
I met David Onyango Oloo during my first
stint at Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in the
mid eighties. He had been convicted, like many
of his student colleagues and former Kenya
Air Force officers, of offences relating to their
political activities.
Unlike the Air force officers who had been
charged and convicted by courts martial,
Onyango Oloo and the university students
had been convicted of sedition and given long
sentences without the benefit of any remission.
I was in Cell No. 7 of the notorious E Block.
Maina wa Kinyatti was Cell No. 2. Because
we were in solitary confinement and Oloo was
not, he would wait for the days when friendly
warders were on duty and they would sneak
him in during the 20 minute break from our
cells and we would have very robust, free and
honest discussions on the state of our nation.
An avowed Marxist Leninist David would give
us an eloquent and articulate exposition, in
both English and Kiswahili, of Kenya’s class
struggle. Mwalimu Maina wa Kinyatti would
be the moderator and the 20 minute allowance
would swiftly end and he would be sneaked
out as we were bundled back to our cells. Not
since my days at the University of Nairobi when
Willy Mutunga had introduced us to Marxist
doctrines had I had such clear exposition of the
theory and practice of Communism.
I had of course read about his trial and
conviction and his disagreement with his
counsel over mitigation in order to get non-
custodial sentence. Oloo’s court address was
in the class of the great court room statements
of the likes of Nelson Mandela. He was not
prepared to disown or betray his cause. He was
given the maximum sentence. I recall writing
about his audacity and courage of conviction for
one so young.
He was in his 20s and he would live the rest of
his life in the struggle. I wrote about him in The
21
Lawyer Gitobu Imanyara being led out of a
Nairobi court. He was one of the few lawyers
who fought against Moi-KANU dictatorship
during the struggle for the Second Liberation.
Nairobi Law Monthly which I then owned and
edited and when he came back from exile in
Canada we met very regularly.
We had our own disagreements and he wrote
and spoke about what he saw as my weaknesses
and failings but this only solidified our
friendship. He harboured malice to no one.
When I came out of Kamiti Maximum
security prison after my second stint there after
promotion from the Nyayo House Torture
Dungeons during the Saba Saba uprising of the
90s, he wrote me a beautiful poem.
He was so full of common humanity. He told
me about his love for one of our own with
whom he was in relationship and he opened up
to me about his personal life.
Many tributes have been shared about this
unpretentious and dignified front line foot
soldier of our Second Liberation and Third
Liberations.
I add my voice to your tributes. May what he
fought for and gave his life for be achieved one
day. Rest in peace my younger brother, my
friend. Your struggle was not in vain. Your life
and modesty; your commitment to the ideal of
a free and equal society touched many and gave
hope to many more.
22
Out of Kenya and back
By Onyango Oloo
As someone who was born around the
time many African countries were getting
independent, my fifty plus years echoes many of
the triumphs and travails of our continent.
Ten years ago I, lost my wife a day after one of
my aunties departed from us. It is pointless to
go through the litany of siblings and relatives
lost for they are among millions who have died
over the years.
I am a true child of the sixties which for
Africa started with a lot of hope and optimism
before degenerating into coups, civil wars,
assassinations, strife and turmoil. My age mates
in Kenya had names like Lumumba, Obote,
Kwame, Odinga and Nyerere-reflecting the
pride that our parents had for Pan Africanist
ideals.
I remember, when I was a tiny boy of four my
father lifting me up on a Nairobi street to see
the motorcade of Mzee Jomo Kenyatta drive
past. And everybody was waving a Kenyan flag
and cheering him on.
But at the age of nine, when I was a Standard
Three pupil marching with other members of
our primary school, AC Luanda in Gem to
Malanga for the burial of Argwings Kodhek,
Kenya’s Foreign Minister who died under
politically unclear circumstances. The same
year, in July 1969 the country was mourning
the brutal assassination of Tom Mboya who was
gunned down by a government hired killer at a
chemist’s shop.
When I was fifteen years old Kenya wailed
when a patriot, the popular MP J.M. Kariuki
was discovered murdered and thrown in a bush
by killers suspected to be emissaries of President
Jomo Kenyatta. That tragic event threw the
country into turmoil and increased the level
of anti-government opposition especially by
Kenya’s Left. A few days after my eighteenth
birthday Kenya was in confusion when the
only head of state they had known-Mzee Jomo
Kenyatta died. Many did not know whether to
cry or celebrate because he had been a colossal
figure who dominated the Voice of Kenya news
broadcasts and had photographs on the front
pages of the daily newspapers every time school
children and traditional dancers entertained
him at State House.
By late 1981, I was a university student in
Nairobi but a few months later I was to spend
my twenty second birthday in remand prison
accused by the state of the crime of sedition for
having the audacity to write in biro on foolscap
paper a draft of an undistributed student essay
calling on Kenyan youth to stand up to power
and protest when our lecturers and popular
leaders were abducted from the lecture theatres
and homes to detention without trial and
kangaroo courts. Within a couple of months,
I had been sentenced to serve five long years
behind bars at the Kamiti Maximum Security
Prison where I served a big chunk of my
twenties.
Just before my twenty-seventh birthday, I was
a newcomer to Dar es Salaam, not as a tourist
but as a UNHCR refugee from Kenya escaping
state authorities of Moi-KANU dictatorship
who were clamping down on dissent. Our stay
in Tanzania was barely a year before I and other
Kenyans were flown to Canada to shield us
from secret police of the Kenyan state who were
planning to do what they had done to Ochuka
and his Air Force comrades - abduct us and
return us back to Kenya.
A few months after my birthday in 1988, I
was on my way to Lester Pearson Airport via
Schiipol in Amsterdam to begin life as a “new
worker” and landed immigrant in Toronto,
Canada.
I was to spend the rest of the eighties, all of the
nineties and part of the early years of the twenty
first century as a political exile living in Toronto,
Ontario and Montreal, Quebec where I learnt a
lot from the movements of women, Caribbean
and African Canadians, Native and Indigenous
People, Irish, El Salvadoran, Latin American,
Middle Eastern and Asian movements, students,
environmental and workers’ struggles.
I did come back to Kenya in 1994 for the first
 23

time since I fled to Tanzania. Nairobi and head the

A day before my thirty fourth East African Secretariat
birthday I got an unexpected planning the 2007 edition of
gift when none other than the World Social Forum being
the late Francis Kwinga, the held in Africa for the very first
Principal Immigration Officer time.
at his Nyayo House office I was hardly back home for
reached into one of his drawers Top left: Raila Odinga and Mwai Kibaki (right a month when I was thrust
and handed me a brand new photo) Below: Kenyans protesting against election into the Kenyan civil society’s
passport - thanks to the efforts results. involvement on the November
of Dr. Willy Mutunga, the late 2005 Referendum against the
George Anyona and the late infamous Wako Draft of the
George Kapten’s interventions proposed constitution.
on my behalf.
Over the next ten years I
But on my flight back to witnessed, first Mwai Kibaki
Canada on an Air India and PNU and next, Uhuru
flight, I was detained by the Kenyatta and Jubilee and install
immigration authorities of themselves in power through dubious means
that huge sub-continental’s country who leaving thousands of deaths in their wake.
accused me of being a Nigerian (as if that was
in itself a crime) on account of the fact that I On the eve of my fifty seventh birthday
produced my brand new Kenyan passport and yesterday (Aug 19, 2017), I saw NASA
my battered Canadian permanent residence present twenty five thousand pages and parade
when asked to identify myself. It took the over twenty lawyers who will represent the
speedy intervention of Mumbai based Canadian opposition at the Supreme Court to hear the
Consular authorities to verify that I was in fact, petition which those of us who have become
a bona fide Canadian tax payer who lived and cynical are firmly convinced, will be rejected
worked in Ontario. by that court but will still play a vital role
in testifying to the world how Uhuru, Ruto
In October 2005, I was head hunted while in and Jubilee stole the elections for the second
Montreal by the organizers of the Kenya Social consecutive time.
Forum to come back to

My brother, friend, confidant and teacher

Pheroz Manji the banner in the wind
Farewell, Onyango Oloo, comrade and friend. Not bound so tightly
You have fought the good fight and sustained in a scarlet fold
it even when your contributions were not not sodden, sodden
always given due recognition. with your people’s tears
The words of Guyanese revolutionary griot, but flashing on the pole
Martin Carter, are appropriate to recall: we bear aloft
Death must not find us thinking that we die down and beyond this dark, dark lane of rags.
too soon, too soon Now, from the mourning vanguard moving on
our banner draped for you dear Comrade, I salute you and I say
I would prefer Death will not find us thinking that we die.
24
No Weeping, Wailing or Mourning !
By Onyango Oloo
If Daniel Toroitich arap Moi were to die
tomorrow, or next week or the following
month, I, Onyango Oloo will not do a
Ndombolo jig on his fresh grave.
But neither will I be caught dead, hysterically
crying my heart out, clinging feverishly to a
thoroughly drenched tear soaked face towel.
No weeping, no wailing, no mourning for
Oloo.
Yesterday, September 2, 2014 the former
repressive Kenyan head of state announced to
anyone who cared to know that he is now only
ten years short of clocking a century on Planet
Earth.
I was completely disgusted and thoroughly
nauseated. Not at the thought that the lanky
former despot was celebrating his birthday.
No, not at all.
Even if Pol Pot, Papa Doc, Idi Amin Dada and
Adolf Hitler were alive today they would have
had every right to celebrate their respective born
days.
What pissed me off were the miles of slimy
orgiastic phlegm oozing from every orifice of
Kenya’s often intellectually bereft Fourth Estate.
I spied with horror, giddy television anchors
grin from ear to ear as they fellated and ululated
one of the worst dictators to emerge in Africa in
the last fifty years.
I recoiled with shock to listen to a sycophantic
choir of journalists - on the radio, in the
newspapers on the internet - kow tow to the
architect of Goldenberg; one of the chief
suspects behind a string of unsolved political
assassinations; a veritable dinosaur who opposed
democratization and constitutional change.
I narrowly missed suffering a massive, almost
fatal, coronary attack when I logged on to only
to be viciously slapped by a blithe wall update
from a young, fairly progressive female artiste
who I respect a lot for her consistent reformist
credentials, inviting
all her FB friends
to share their happy
recollections of the
iron fisted conductor
of the KANU
tyranny-to add to her
joyful reminiscences
and nostalgic reveries
about sipping the
Former President Daniel infamous Nyayo
milk as a toddler in
arap Moi
kindergarten.
In the grip of acute trauma, I shuddered in
wonderment, speculating in consternation if
perhaps the minds of millions of my Kenyan
compañeros had been taken over by the kind of
shady, dodgy aliens that Will Smith and Tommy
Lee Jones had been battling tenaciously in three
indelible MIB Hollywood blockbusters.
Let me tell you how I remember the aging
despot who is close to polluting the universe for
a hundred years.
I was barely 22 when his putrid regime hauled
me off a train and swung me in the Kamiti
slammer for having the temerity of jotting
down in my own unflattering, scrawling hand
writing, a first year university essay calling on
Kenyan youth to stand up against injustice and
fight for freedom. Two years later my father
suffered a heart attack after one of his own in
laws who was a minister in Moi’s regime misled
him into believing that I, along with other
jailed university students, would be released on
Jamhuri Day, 1984.
Instead, Moi forgave his close business partner,
Charles Njonjo who had been tarred, tainted
and tagged as the so called “Traitor” within
the blood soaked Nyayo kleptocracy. My dad
eventually died from a second heart attack a few
years later. To this day, I hold Moi responsible
for my father’s untimely demise.
Moi also killed Tito Adungosi, the former
 25

Robert Ouko Father John Kaiser

Tito
Adungosi
Karimi Nduthu

SONU Chairman
who happened to be
an ardent supporter
of the KANU
dictatorship even
behind bars. Adungosi
did not have to die,
but he did, as a result
of callous state neglect JM Kariuki Wallace Gichere
of a simple, treatable
ailment.
Who killed Dr. Robert Ouko? How about Fr.
Kaiser? Who bludgeoned Karimi Nduthu to
death? Who threw photojournalist Wallace
Gichere out of a window?
Who was the political cannibal and vampire
who drank the blood of patriots and feasted on
their newly slaughtered flesh?
Count me out.
September 3, 2014

Willy Mutunga, former Chief

Self-made OO
Justice/President, Supreme Court
of Kenya
In glorifying our fallen Comrade
I want to single out one of his
great revolutionary attributes
that must never be forgotten.
OO was a self-educated
organic intellectual very much
in the tradition of Malcolm
X, Mao Zedong, and other
revolutionaries.
He never suffered the limitations of bookish
education. He interrogated,
critiqued, historicized, and
demystified theories and
knowledge in a creative manner,
including Marxism.
The struggle he was engaged in
for a development of humane,
just, peaceful, non-militaristic,
non-violent, ecologically safe,
equitable, and prosperous
socialist societies on the planet
must continue.
Aluta Continua! Vitoria e C’erta!
26
A Communist to the end
By Miguna Miguna
My comrade
Onyango Oloo was
an unrepentant global
citizen in the mould
of what Thomas
Sankara had called
“The Upright Man.”
He was ideologically
radical, pure and
committed.
A prolific and dogged
debater, writer and
activist. He read voraciously and published
long essays, poems and commentaries on
everything from Marxism, Pan-Africanism,
imperialism, music, world politics, feminism
and globalisation to the environment.
Although he was named David Onyango Oloo,
he had dropped “David” after he left prison in
1986. Before seeking exile in Tanzania in the
late 1980s, local Kenyan newspapers had named
him as a member of the “Kenya Revolutionary
Movement” together with Raila Odinga.
The ensuing propaganda against the KRM
precipitated Oloo’s flight into exile. Soon, Raila
Odinga also fled to exile in Norway using a
Ugandan passport.
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, most
African socialists opportunistically opted to
redefine themselves. They avoided delicate
ideological debates and rebranded themselves as
“social democrats.”
In the early 1990s, it was distressing for
committed communists to watch those they had
considered their compatriots - who had proudly
worn long beards, called themselves socialists
and who had engaged in radical opposition
to imperialism - jump into the capitalist band
wagon overnight without much compunction.
Not Comrade Onyango Oloo.
“I’m a communist. A Marxist-Leninist,”
Oloo continued to proclaim defiantly
until he traveled to join our ancestors. He
resisted the life of privilege, materialism
and conformism because that always meant
diluting his principles in exchange for temporal
opportunism.
As fate would have it, I met Oloo in Canada;
not in our native land, Kenya. I was introduced
to Oloo in Toronto by Adongo Ogony who had
served as the Secretary General of the Students’
Organisation of Nairobi University (SONU) in
1982. This was shortly after they had arrived in
Toronto, Canada, from Tanzania, with Omondi
Obanda, James Mwangi and Githirwa Muhoro
in November 1988.
I had been granted asylum in Canada in June
of the same year, together with former SONU
leaders, Peter Mutonyi Gakiri, Munoru Nderi,
JTO Ogola, Omill Oloo and former University
of Nairobi third-year law student James
Anampiu .
We had quickly established an exile pro-
democracy movement called the Committee
for Democracy in Kenya (CDK) and rallied
Kenyans living abroad to champion for the
reintroduction of multi-party democracy in our
mother land.
During this period, the majority of Kenyans in
Ontario were foreign students—mostly children
or relatives of ruling party KANU mandarins
or their business associates. But there were a
few other political exiles like James Karanga,
Kamonji Wachiira and a man we only knew
as Kamotho. Dr. Willy Mutunga who was
completing his doctoral studies at the Osgoode
Hall Law School of York University also joined
the CDK.
Oloo worked as a radio broadcaster, community
programme manager and consultant for a
number of non-governmental organisations.
He also assisted many refugees from numerous
African and Latin American countries prepare
and present their cases for asylum.
Whenever he was confronted with difficult

choices between remaining loyal to his political
principles or fitting in so that he could keep
a job, for instance, Oloo always stuck to his
principles.
Many of his critics considered him an
unrepentant idealist. A stubborn fool. They
dismissed him as a man who had refused to
change with the times. Those critics preferred
dishonesty, opportunism and hypocrisy to
strong principles. They considered people
like Onyango Oloo who believed that the
world needed to be transformed through
a socialist revolution for everyone to have
equal opportunities and to have control over
their means of production as dreamers. They
contemptuously referred to him as an “activist
who had refused to grow out of his university
mold.”
In the 1990s before blogging became popular
among Kenyans, Oloo was already a veteran
blogger who traversed Kenyan discussion
platforms like a colossus. He was ubiquitous
in platforms such as Kiseru, Kenyans Online,
Kenya Community Abroad and Kenyans in
Ontario before he founded the iconic Jukwaa:
Kenyan Discussion Platform around the year
2005 as a forum for Kenya Democracy Project,
which he had co-founded with Ogony. They
had also founded a publicastion they called
“Haki” which was an organ of the Kenya
Human Rights Organisation we had also
founded during the same period.
He is the only genuine male feminist I have
Rest in peace Comrade
By Mwashengu wa Mwachofi
It pains me how comrades
sacrifice for justice, only later to
die in poverty. The pain is aggravated by the
reality that some of us decamped to join the
perpetrators and together, they continue to
thrive in the ill-gotten wealth.
However because death is not meant to be
the end of life and that beyond it we shall live
eternally, I am relieved that comrade David
Onyango Oloo is on the way to heaven.
27
ever met. He
understood
power and power
dynamics. He
eschewed faddism.
He believed in
substantive equality
between races,
ethnic groups,
religions and
sexual orientations.
He was fully
committed to the
establishment of
a classless society.
He fought gallantly
against artificially
constructed
structural and institutional hierarchies.
In the end, despite his many skills, abilities,
ideological commitment and tenacity, Oloo’s
efforts were consistently thwarted by entrenched
neocolonial interests and merchants of impunity
in Kenya. Oloo reminded them of their
ideological limitations and moral weaknesses.
Had Kenya been a merit-based society,
Comrade Oloo would not have died a painful,
neglected and lonely life. The challenge is
on us to honour his legacy and seek the
transformation of Kenya so that true heroes like
him would be treated humanely here on earth.
You were my revolutionary comrade, trusted
confidant and valued friend.
It is only there that we expect to live eternally,
in real freedom, justice and peace we
sacrificed for.
Since we believe in what we are fighting for
and that we are on God’s side, we expect
him to be just and reward us accordingly -
with Jesus Christ standing for us in the final
judgment Justice will finally be done.
May Comrade David Onyango Oloo Rest in
Eternal peace.
28
Oloo made me drop my Christian name
By Oloo Janak
Although I had a
chance to meet and
work with Onyango
Oloo from around
1994, his name had
become familiar
to many of us as
politically conscious
students those days.
He and I shared
names: he was
David Onyango
Oloo and I was
William Onyango Oloo, a situation which
caused some unease and fear in me and was
later to land me in trouble with the Kanu/Moi
regime shortly after.
The sense of nationalism, Pan Africanism and
cultural re-orientation, inspired by an anti-
imperialist feeling among some of us, was
growing. I was among those inspired by his
decision to drop his Christian name “David”,
and by author, Ngugi Wa Thiong’o’s earlier
decision to drop his Christian name “James”, I
also quietly dropped “William”.
So, for a while, I was simply also known as
“Onyango Oloo” a name change that led to my
arrest later.
In 1985-6, I was the South Nyanza
correspondent for a Nairobi based Weekly
Newspaper, and contributed to “Weekly
Review” using the name: Onyango Oloo. In
1987 I adopted the name: Oloo Janak after I
sensed that my letters were being monitored.
So, in the heat of the advocacy for the new
constitution I was pleased to have met Onyango
Oloo “Wa Canada”, in person and work with
him in some spaces through to around 2015
when he disappeared from my radar.
I would always meet him at forums or with
friends, and hanging on his neck were some
distinctly traditional African symbolism,
beads, some bone-like things, carved into some
sort of decoration which I never quite got to
understand but I took them to mean he was
deeply committed to Pan Africanism and the
objects gave him a sense cultural connection
and identity.
He had a friendly and generally quiet mien,
even in agitated environments, presenting his
arguments very logically and passionately at
meetings. He would always offer to take up
tasks and was eager to get processes moving.
I worked with Onyango Oloo in successfully
organising the Nyanza Region Social Forum,
that led me attend World Social Forum event in
Nairobi.
He gave the event his all, working hard
throughout until it ended.
Throughout our years of interaction, I had
come to look at him as a very passionate and
fairly down to earth compatriot, and we had
many moments sitting out and talking about
the reform movement at various city restaurants
over coffee or at meetings.
For some time after he disappeared from my
radar, I thought Onyango Oloo had, like of the
pro-reform comrades, taken a back seat, or got
engaged in some job or consultancies, either
locally or internationally. I even thought he
had gone back to Canada, until I saw face book
posts indicating he was at his rural village in
Lwanda Dudi, near Yala Township, trying to eke
out a living as a poultry farmer.
I joined colleagues who kept in touch a bit,
through a number he had provided on his
face book posts but then I lost touch after a
while, only to learn after a while, that Comrade
Onyango Oloo had passed on!
We have lost a passionate social reform advocate
who contributed a lot to the movement for
social change in Kenya and no doubt within the
global community.

A die-hard Marxist-Leninist
By Patrick Ochieng’
Onyango Oloo’s inspiration to
be what what he was from the
South African Communist Party
ideologues, their publications and
the work of Radio Freedom in Dar
es salaam. He read Jaramogi’s Not
Yet Uhuru, conceived and launched
a long running current affairs
programme on radical community
radio in Canada, linked with ANC
in Toronto and became a member of
the Nelson Mandela Reception Committee for
Mandela’s first Canadian visit. These gave Oloo
his early depth in revolution.
It is Oloo who made me aware that a key
female member of the SACP together with the
spouse of a Kenyan trade unionist ghost wrote
Jaramogi’s book Not Yet Uhuru.
Oloo joined the University of Nairobi in 1981
to do history, economics and literature, at a
time when Moi’s dictatorship was at its peak.
At the time a Marxist-Leninist underground
movement was active at the two Universities,
Nairobi and Kenyatta led by luminaries such
as Ngugi wa Thiongo, Prof. Edward Oyugi,
Dr. Willy Mutunga, Kamoji Wachira, Maina
wa Kinyatti among others. The movement was
formally known as December Twelve Movement
(DTM) adopted from the year Britain gave
Kenya its flag independence.
A pamphlet produced by DTM in 1981 known
as Cheche that articulated the movement’s
basic thesis of neo-colonialism was one of
Oloo’s first sparks in to subversive thoughts
when he attended symposia by the radical
lecturers at which these pamphlets were shared.
A second publication Pambana that exposed
the dictatorship and called on compatriots to
organize hit the Campus in 1982.
It is these activities that prompted the police to
start the crackdown that begun in June 1982
that saw what the regime described as “bearded
Marxist dissidents” arrested and detained
29
without trial like Oyugi, Alamin,
Kamoji or jailed on trumped up
charges like sedition for Mutunga
and Kinyatti.
It is however the events of Sunday
August 1, 1982, an attempted coup
by a section of the Airforce that saw
chants of Pambana rent the air at
the University with soldiers shooting
in the air that would change things
completely for Oloo.
The ecstasy that followed, the
rampage with which comrades joined the forces
in to the streets only took minutes before forces
loyal to the regime crushed the rebellion. Soon
the state unleashed the paramilitary GSU on
campus, the Chancellor announced the campus
had been closed and ordered students to go
back to their homes, thoroughly beaten, and
bashed with some having raped.
It was when Oloo was returning to Mombasa
where his family lived, that police boarded the
train and demanded everyone’s identity. Oloo
produced his student identity and that invited
the harrowing story that followed. His suitcase
was frisked, Das Kapital, The Wretched of the
Earth were some of his priceless possessions.
Upon further digging they came across his
handwritten essay, A Plea to Comrades, a call
to action on December 12 to intercede for
comrades and lecturers rounded up students in
the crackdown. Oloo was promptly escorted
back to Nairobi by police and the rest as they
say is history.
Although the political establishment brutalized
you and never did anything to take the pressure
off till you bowed out but not once did you
betray the cause, you owned and amplified the
legitimate rage of the disenfranchised.
Oloo as you go to the next earth, salute
comrades Titus Andungosi, Prof Katama
Mkangi, Odhiambo Mbayi and Jaramogi who
went before you.
30

With Oloo all the way

By Njuki Githethwa
We have supported one another
for many years, individually and
collectively, as comrades and
friends, siblings and relatives,
locally and abroad. We have
shared what we have, little or plenty, financial
and in kind, houses, means of travel, computers,
office space, love, solidarity, moral support,
what we could share.
News came through.
OO had relocated to his ancestral home in
Luanda Dudi, Muhaka Sub-Location, Kisa
West, Kakamega County. He will refocus his
life into supporting grassroots community
development projects. He had erected his very
own dala (Dholuo for home) right opposite
AC Luanda Primary School on a piece of land
bequeathed him by his parents and ancestors.
But OO was ailing. His material condition was
dire. Comrades and friends on the email list he
had created swung into action.
Social media outlets were flooded with solidarity
messages and appeals for support. His Mpesa
number was open. Solidarity financial support
flowed in.
Some comrades even pledged and gave monthly
contributions for over six months. Solidarity
visits from comrades, friends, siblings and
neighbours were in step.
Long progressive conversations flowed
effortlessly: memories, of aimless politics, greedy
politicians, ideological poverty, progressive
internationalism, Pan Africanism, struggle
and survival of comrades and activists, settling
with the love of his life, rich foods, celebratory
drinks, visions, dreams.
Refreshing walks along the footpaths of Dudi
village. Birds chirp happily. Neighbours
greet respectfully. There is new company in
the village. Forays into Luanda town where
modernity abounds. This is the town he used
check, respond and send countless emails and
January 2019: Comrades Njuki, Booker,
Gacheke when they visited OO’s home in
Muhaka, Dudi.
social media posts. He bought his last phone
here.
OO has grandiose plans at his home in Dudi
on self-sustaining projects: raising poultry,
goats, sheep, cattle, pigs, connect electricity and
flowing water, work for communications in the
county, set up a community based organization,
it even had a name: Barrack Obama Centre for
Social Progress.
He will publish his book, memoirs, digital
verses, his novel in drafts - FaceBook Achieng.
He will intensify struggles for a socialist
revolution, another world is possible, a new
social order, a just and equitable society.
But OO is hospitalized severally.
Solidarity support continues. His medication
must continue. His health need to be back to
shape. His dreams are valid. His life struggles
are real, but it’s what we could do, could have
done; this system destroys all of us.
“The real question is not whether
life exists after death.
The real question is whether you
are alive before death.”

Back to my roots
Comrades, friends and fellow Jukwaa members:
First of all, my apologies for my long,
long absence from this forum. Now, some
explanations are in order.
Since June 2017 I was domiciled in Durban,
Kwa Zulu Natal, South Africa. In the course of
my stay there, I fell seriously sick. At one point
I spent over five weeks marooned in hospital.
What was I suffering from?
Well, the doctors told me I was afflicted with
T.B. That was on top of the HIV positive status
that I discovered I had in 2016. I also was
suffering from high blood pressure.
Having left hospital, I retreated to my sister’s
home in Durban.
In December 2018 our family made a decision
that we should travel back to Kenya, and that
I set up my own home in my home village of
Luanda Dudi in Kisa West Location, Kakamega
County in western Kenya.
Using the available resources, my family and I
set up a modest home - which turned out to be
a small mabati stucture called kiru in Dholuo,
Onyango Katukimbia ....
Adhiambo Odhiambo
(Malkia Kadzo)
Toka bara hadi Pwani, mbiu
twalisikia,
Wenzio tumefanyani, Onyango katukimbia,
Katu sijaamini, kikomo katuekea,
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia.
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia,
Tu makiwa wa’harakati, huzuni metuachia,
Lala pema peponi, moyoni tabakia,
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia.
Bila haya mi nasema, Onyango wetu shujaa,
Vitabuni nikisoma, sifazo lizisikia,
31
31
in which I moved in almost immediately just
before Christmas last year.
I resolved there and then to become a rural
based dweller growing vegetables; raising
poultry, goats, sheep and cows. Did I mention
that the house had no electricity?
Briefly the main factors behind my absence
from the net have been travel, sickness and
relocating to the rural Kenyan countryside.
By the way, I am not ashamed to admitting that
I am currently wallowing in temporary poverty.
Sincerely,
Onyango Oloo
Miaka bora ya ujana, katumika gerezani,
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia.
Singizio la uhaini, Onyango kashitakiwa,
Mateso nayo matusi, shujaa livumilia,
Mikononi mwa mabepari, kulikomboa taifa,
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia.
Kwenye wimbi la fikira, mara nyingi ulizama,
Wala hukukata tamaa, bali kaishi kwa ari,
Pumzika sasa peponi, Onyango shujaa wetu,
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia.
Shujaa wetu buriani, salama nakuombea,
Amekuita jalali, nawe mwito kw’itikia,
Ulalapo kaburini, pumziko nakutakia,
Buriani wangu mwendani, mbele umetangulia.
32
“I promise that you will read my book, soon”
Onyango Oloo
I am hereby announcing that starting on
October 20th, 2017, I, Onyango Oloo will stop How about if I divert that energy to completing
writing any digital essays on Jukwaa and cease just one book?
distributing my posts on Facebook, Twitter,
Googel+, KPTJ or any of the many e-mail
groups that I belong to.
The reason for this moratorium is paradoxical, You will hear from me when my new book is
but really quite simple.
So far, I have started over 5,400 topics on
Jukwaa, the discussion forum I launched in
August 2005. In the 8 years that I have been on
Facebook, I have accumulated close to the limit
of 5,000 friends - reminding of the wry quip by
Bill Gates when he was quitting that popular
social media platform that no one can have so
many actual friends in real life. I am constantly
on Twitter and my e-mail inbox is bursting at
the seams.
So what gives?
Well, this moratorium is to give me the freedom
to write more. For those who still don’t get it,
let me break it down.
You see, Onyango Oloo is always writing. Every
day and every night. Most of my pieces are
political, ideological, polemical.
And it is precisely why I am announcing that
that starting on what Kenyans celebrate as
Mashujaa Day (Sheroes/Heroes Day), Onyango
Oloo will not compose a single sentence in
English, Kiswahili, Luo or Sheng that touches
on one country in Africa called Kenya.
I am doing this in order precisely to write
some more. Some of my friends and family
members already know that I am working on a
manuscript or two or three.
Given the energy I spent on digital essays every
single night, guess how many chapters of how
many books I would have completed by now?
Anybody who is familiar with my pieces must
be familiar with the vast amount of research and
reading that I do, references and citations that
I make. This apart from the professional work
that I do as a paid consultant.
So folks on Jukwaa, Facebook,Twitter, Goole+,
KPTJ and other e-mail forums, this is Onyango
Oloo saying Sayonara and Adios.
being launched. Which should be quite soon -
I promise everyone.
 ... Don’t grieve for me, for now I am free
From the tree of life, each leaf must fall
The green, the gold, the great, the small:
Each one in God’s own time, He’ll call
With perfect love He gathers all.

Don’t grieve for me, for now I am free

I am following the path God set for me
I took His hand when I heard Him call
I turned my back and left it all.

Perhaps my time seemed all to be brief

Don’t lengthen a while for me if you must
Then let your grief be comforted by trust
It’s only for a while that we must part.

At every turning of my life I came across good

friends
Friends who stood for me
Even when the time raced me by.
Farewell, a farewell my friends
I smile and bid you goodbye. Put no difference in your tone.
All I can say is to echo a South African saying Wear no air of solemnity or sorrow.
Hamba Kahle! Fare thee well! Laugh as we always laughed
Call me my old familiar name, At the little jokes we enjoyed together
Onyango Oloo Then when you must come this way alone
Speak to me in the easy way I’ll greet you with a smile and say
which you always used. Welcome Home.
* The poem was found among Oloo’s
possessions.
Onyango Oloo ....
 ONYANGO OLOO

1960 - 2019

“Kenya’s Uhuru must not be transformed into freedom to

exploit, or freedom to be hungry and live in ignorance.
Uhuru must be Uhuru for the masses - Uhuru from
exploitation, from ignorance, disease and poverty”
- PIO GAMA PINTO (1963)