To describe ‘Sir’ Charles Njonjo as immaculate would be how the sky might attempt to describe the colour blue. It seems pointless and wasteful. But he seems to wear that adjective on his cuffs, doesn’t he?
At 95, he still remains regal and enigmatic — not to mention a celebrity; Kenya’s first Attorney-General for over 15 years, Member of Parliament for Kikuyu Constituency, minister for Constitutional Affairs in Daniel arap Moi’s government and, more recently, chairman of the East African Wildlife Society. Not to mention the prominent businessman tag.
Njonjo, who featured prominently (and powerfully) in the post-independence politics of Kenya, was known for his “hawkish” brand of politics and is often touted as one of the wealthiest men in Kenya.
In person, despite being five years shy of the centenarian tag, he refuses to be bowed by age (or man, for that matter). He remains resolute in his signature pinstripe suits and a blue checked shirt that he had on when I met him in his Westlands office.
On his wrist gleamed an understated Patek Philippe timepiece. He was amusing, unapologetic, a straight-shooter, deliberate and astute. Shrewdness radiated through his very being, and when you held his unwavering gaze and looked deep into his rheumy eyes, you couldn’t help feeling like a ball of wool in the paws of a cat.
On his wrist gleamed an understated Patek Philippe timepiece. He was amusing, unapologetic, a straight-shooter, deliberate and astute. Shrewdness radiated through his very being, and when you held his unwavering gaze and looked deep into his rheumy eyes, you couldn’t help feeling like a ball of wool in the paws of a cat.
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What’s the story of that odd-looking bracelet on your wrist?
Oh this? This is an elephant bracelet. It’s a celebration and support of elephants. I wear it because I believe in the conservation of elephants. I believe we all have to save these animals for future generations.
What kind of a person were you in your prime; standing at the elbow of the bearded Jomo Kenyatta – the first Attorney-General of an independent republic, well-scrubbed in your pinstripe suit?
You know, I miss the discipline of that time. I miss the power I had, power that I could use for the common good. I miss the nation that we had then, a strong nation. There is nothing that went on that we didn’t know about; we had the proverbial long arm of the law.
We were always two steps ahead, we knew what conversation you had in your house the previous night. What happened in Garissa recently would never have happened because we had total control of security.
What has changed over time for you, socially and politically?
What has really changed is this new Constitution that we have. It is good but at the moment, because we don’t understand it, it’s bad and it’s dangerous. It has brought a lot of misunderstanding, ambitions and greed for power.
All these governors and this paraphernalia that go with it; motorcade riders. It’s brought ugliness and pretence. The whole intention of our Constitution was for government to be closer to the people. That hasn’t been the case.
Are you happy with the work of the Judiciary now?
No. (Pause) I think we have a lot of people there who are inexperienced. This is because of appointment of people who are not seasoned.
You were once a very powerful man. What did you learn about power and influence?
That you can use it and misuse it. I used it for good, I could have used it to destroy.
Did power change who you were?
No, it made me humble. Power can make you arrogant and ruthless.
How do you manage to maintain yourself like this at 95?
I look after myself. I swim daily, I used to do 12 laps, now I do only seven. I also have a bicycle which I ride for 10 minutes daily, on top of the treadmill which I do for 10 minutes daily. I’m also careful about what I eat; I don’t eat nyama choma, I eat a lot of veggies.
What is your greatest struggle in life now?
(Pause) I’m struggling about you and your Press. I get my paper at 6am and I read it until 7am and I just get depressed with what I read. Then I wonder why I bother reading this newspaper, to depress me? It’s a habit though.
Look, you have done well for yourself in life, but you still wear a suit every day and come here to work! When will you say this is enough, I won’t come to work any more?
Maybe when I’m cremated. Otherwise I will wait until I cannot move a limb. As long as my feet can carry me, I will come here daily.
Do you think about death, do you fear dying?
No. Death is something you can face, why fear it? I don’t engage in that kind of thought and I don’t want anyone to raise money when I die... friends meeting at the cathedral... I don’t want any collection of money.
Just how much are you worth? Do you know?
I’m a poor man. I’m not worth anything.
Do you drink alcohol?
I don’t drink much... if I’m to drink, it will be just a bottle of beer and maybe a cider, that’s it.
Ok, so you don’t drink. What’s your sin then?
My sin? (Thinks). I don’t sleep enough. I’m unable to do eight straight hours of sleep... that I regret because I’d love to have a deep sleep.
And why can’t you?
Because I’m thinking... and I’m worried… (Pause)... I’m thinking of things... you know, like what will you write about me after this? I debate with myself in bed.
What do you least like about Sir Charles Njonjo?
(Pause). I like myself... no, I really do.
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