Murima Imeguzwa: How the Mythical Political Mountain Was Touched and the Kingpin Dethroned.
A few weeks ago, it seemed inconceivable that anyone would dare to tinker with ‘Murima’—the internet’s cheeky moniker for the Mt. Kenya region, the political stronghold of Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua. For over three months, Kenyans received stern warnings about how to approach ‘Murima’: do everything possible, but never dare meddle in the hallowed affairs of its dwellers.
These edicts, delivered not-so-discreetly by Gachagua, urged his political adversaries to tread carefully, lest an unnamed catastrophe befall them. He made these warnings in broad daylight—at churches, funerals, roadside gatherings, and even during official openings of government institutions.
Anointing himself as Murima’s messiah, Gachagua took on the mantle of protector, immersing himself in the region’s concerns. He would physically traverse the Mount Kenya pathways, arms raised in prayer, seemingly channeling the infinite powers of the Mountain gods. Sometimes, he would retreat into the sacred thickets for seven days, fasting and praying, emerging with proclamations of divine guidance.
“I had taken seven days away for prayers and fasting in the heart of Mt. Kenya forest,” he would tell mourners at the funeral of his former teacher, Kano Ndumbi. Slowly, he fashioned himself into the King of the Mountain, the unassailable defender of its interests, tackling issues from coffee production to the illicit brew menace, all while rallying for budgetary allocations for his constituents.
However, despite his stern warnings and stringent injunctions, some dared to challenge the status quo. While Gachagua shuffled from one corner of Murima to another, making impassioned pleas in churches and delivering emotional funeral speeches, his foes quietly devised their strategies for infiltration. They learned the routes to take, how to approach the Mountain, and ultimately, how to usurp the King’s throne.
Although he was flanked by loyal supporters ready to defend their King, Gachagua failed to gather enough reinforcements. As the murmurings grew louder, so did the boldness of those challenging his rule. The shadowy figures encroaching upon Murima began to show their faces, defiant and unapologetic.
As tensions mounted, Gachagua, cornered and with a bruised ego, took to live television. He presented bundles of evidence intended to vindicate him and dispel the encroaching threat. However, even after a three-hour monologue delivered with flowery language and impeccable presentation, the momentum against him remained unyielding.
Then, the fateful day arrived. The King of the Mountain was summoned to the chamber of his challengers. They were hungry, ready to feast on their political prey. In just five hours, the beasts revealed their fangs, signaling their intent to not only touch ‘Murima’ but also to topple the King.
By 9 PM on that Wednesday night, the warnings had been disregarded, and Murima was touched. The protector of the Mountain had been hounded out of town in a political coup unprecedented in Kenyan history.
Murima Imeguzwa… But what will the consequences be? Will the Mountain remain resilient, or will the winds of change sweep through, altering the political landscape forever? As the dust settles, one question looms large: who will rise to fill the power vacuum left in the wake of Gachagua’s dethronement?
Article By Suzy Nyongesa.
