Arthur Wanyoike Thungu was in a class of his own.
While
little has been written about him — apart from references to his name
in connection with the killing of veteran politician JM Kariuki in 1975 —
Thungu was perhaps the most abrasive of all Jomo Kenyatta’s hangers-on.
Officially, he was one of Mzee Kenyatta’s bodyguards,
but privately, he was the kingpin of the so-
called “Kiambu Mafia” and ran roughshod over those who came between him and his quest for wealth and power.
called “Kiambu Mafia” and ran roughshod over those who came between him and his quest for wealth and power.
One Indian family still recalls what befell
them when Thungu entered their 240-acre Jumapili Coffee Farm in Thika —
and this, perhaps, is the story of any Asian family caught up at the
political turning point of a new nation.
Hundreds of others faced a similar fate, albeit in silence.
It
was 1976 and coffee had become the black gold, fetching premium prices
on the world market after a frost in Brazil had destroyed more than 70
percent of the South American nation’s most important cash crop.
Kenya
and Uganda were the only few countries with coffee, but President Jimmy
Carter had slapped an embargo on the erratic President Idi Amin,
leaving Kenya with an unprecedented boom.
All of a sudden, coffee had become the most important bean.
240 TONNES OF COFFEE
That
year, Jumapili Farm had harvested 240 tonnes of coffee and had
anticipated a good sale. For them, it was a record production.
Then Thungu appeared and invaded the farm.
“He
just came one day with lorries and carted away our coffee. Overnight,
and for 24 hours, they removed all the coffee in the stores and went
away with it,” recalls Ashok Shah, now the chief executive officer of
APA Insurance.
Thungu was a member of Mang'u Investment
Company, which was notorious for forceful acquisition of coffee farms
in Gatundu, and Asian families, who at independence had been allowed to
buy land in the former White Highlands, were the prime targets of their
business — as the Kenyatta government started to enforce the
“Kenyanisation” policy.
Perturbed, Ashok and his
brother, Shashi Shah, naively rushed to the High Court and got an order
from Chief Justice Sir James Wicks, asking Thungu and Mang'u Investment
to vacate Jumapili Farm and return the coffee. They didn’t.
SHOCK
Among
the people Thungu counted as his bosom friends were Ben Gethi, the head
of the General Service Unit, and Police Commissioner Bernard Hinga —
Kenya’s original axis of hubris.
Ashok was in for a shock.
“When
we took the order to the police, they simply laughed at us,” recalls
Ashok, who had arrived in 1975 from the UK’s Kingston University, where
he had majored in applied chemistry.
“There was little
we could do, and I turned to my brother and told him: ‘Let us try
insurance’. It was the only area we could not become targets,” he says.
Apparently, Ashok had done some insurance courses in the UK and that became his family’s saving grace.
While
that is part of the untold story of the origins of APA Insurance, it is
also the story of how Mzee Kenyatta’s bid to transfer all economic and
social control to citizens of Kenya was used by the elites to amass
wealth and also scare away Asians who had decided to stay rather than
take British citizenship.
There was a reason many of the Indian-Kenyans chose to stay — but nobody would have listened to their story.
COLONIAL TREASURY
Ashok’s
father Mepa Kanji Shah, aka Khimasia, had arrived in Kenya in 1918 as a
10-year-old boy aboard a ship and escaping the hard life in Gujarat, a
semi-arid region of India.
Orphaned when he was only
two years old, the young boy had gone through struggles as a herdsboy
and when an Ismaili, who had opened a shop in Nairobi’s Ngara, gave the
boy a chance to leave for a new continent, Mepa Kanji did not have
second thoughts.
World War I had just ended and Nairobi
was starting to boom with new arrivals, even though the war had drained
the colonial treasury.
Amid all these, Indians were
being denied an opportunity to buy commercial plots in Nairobi — then
reserved for white settlers only.
Khimasia was employed
for five years by Lala Prasad Pundit, the pioneer confectioner in
Nairobi’s Bazaar Street, now Biashara, and who is credited with opening
the first sweets and pastries store in Nairobi.
Pundit
had arrived in Nairobi in 1901 and he became so successful that he
built the Lala Prasad Temple — or what was officially known as the
Radha-Krishna Temple. This was the first Hindu temple in Nairobi.
WHITE SETTLERS
At
15, he left Nairobi for Fort Ternan in 1923, just about the time that
the Indians in Kenya numbered about 20,000 against 10,000 white
settlers.
It was also the time that the Indians were
asking for greater political rights and representation and Harry Thuku
had also started organising Africans around a political party.
In
order to defeat the new political reawakening, the British came up with
the Devonshire White Paper, which declared that Kenya was primarily an
African country, and that African interests must be paramount in case of
conflict between Indians and Europeans.
Here, the
young man opened a bookshop at the Catholic mission and was known to
ride a donkey from the Fort Ternan railway station to the mission.
It
is not clear why he moved from Fort Ternan to Nyeri in 1928, but he
started the Kenya Bookshop and once settled he left for India — for the
first time — to look for a wife.
“My mother arrived here in 1931. She was illiterate, by then, and my father taught her,” says Ashok.
The
family bought a commercial plot in Nyeri town — which now houses Equity
Bank — while the modern-day Mountain View Hotel was their home.
NOSTALGIC MEMORIES
“We have nostalgic memories of that building,” Ashok says.
Khimasia
started to bring in his nephews and nieces — and other young Indians
who wanted to start life away from the dry patches of Gujarat.
One
of these was Bhimji Shah — the founder of Bidco Company and father of
Vimal Shah — and that is why they count Nyeri as their industrial base.
Bhimji’s elder brother, Kapul, was an employee of Khimasia at Nyeri General Grocers along with another entrant, Dayalal Samat.
Dayalal and his son Mahendra Shah would later establish Nairobi Sports House.
The
family’s first dalliance with agriculture was when Khimasia founded
Aberdare Dairy in Mweiga, where he had also opened Mweiga General
Stores.
This was a partnership with his nephew
Premchand Hemraj Shah, but it was dissolved at the height of the Mau Mau
crisis in the area in 1958.
Also, Khimasia’s eldest son Budhichand had turned 20 and joined the business at the dawn of independence.
The problem started in 1971, when the Ndegwa Commission allowed civil servants to also get into business.
And as the government started its Kenyanisation of the economy and civil service, the first target were the Asians.
AFRICANISATION POLICY
Then
came the push for an Africanisation policy and they had to quit the
retail business and sell all that they owned in Nyeri and Mweiga in the
1970s and move to Thika, which had a large Oshwal community.
The Mweiga property was sold to Stephen Reuben Karunditu, then a chief personnel officer in the Office of the Vice-President.
Shortly
after independence, Indians had been allowed to buy commercial farms in
the former White Highlands and that is how the family bought Thika’s
Oshwal Coffee Estate — today known as Thika Greens.
But
they did not keep it for long and had to sell it in 1972 to Othaya
Farmers, a land-buying company championed by Nyeri politicos as pressure
on Asians who owned farms increased.
And since the
Othaya owners could not manage the farm, they hired Ashok’s
brother-in-law RK Shah to manage it. But RK, as he was commonly known,
died in 1977.
The biggest blunder, but which turned
into a fortune, was the purchase of Kenmac Limited, a company that owned
Thika’s Jumapili Coffee Farm.
“It was in the wrong place and we were under pressure to sell it too,” says Ashok.
In
order to safeguard the farm from Kiambu politicians the Khimasia family
had started negotiating its sale to the Othaya group, but after their
father died in 1974, the young entrepreneurs were now vulnerable and
this was the time Wanyoike Thungu appeared.
ESSO PETROL STATION
By
this time, Ashok’s elder brother Budhichand had left for Mombasa to run
an Esso Petrol Station and their only other business that was not
targeted was a small shop in Nairobi, Modern Electricals.
The decision to enter insurance was thus prompted by the planned takeover of their farm.
Shashi
had already managed to negotiate its sale with the Othaya Farmers for
Sh2 million — but he had not received the President’s consent (this was
granted after Mzee Kenyatta died in 1978).
The entry
into insurance in 1977 was boosted by the advice of MD Nawara, who had
retired as the executive director of Indo-Africa Insurance, later Pan
Africa Insurance.
He agreed to help the brothers get
into the insurance industry — perhaps sympathising with their farming
predicament. Apollo Insurance was born as a result.
Nawara was based in Mombasa and that explains modern-day APA Insurance’s coastal roots.
The
entire insurance industry was in the hands of Europeans and it became
hard for the young entrepreneurs to penetrate the brokers — the lifeline
of any insurance.
But in 1984, after a lot of struggle, they got their first business from Minet, then the largest insurance broker.
GROW BUSINESS
“We
then had to move our head office to Nairobi in 1999 and we started
thinking about how to grow our business, either through mergers or
acquisition,” recalls Ashok.
That chance came in 2003, when a call came: Pan Africa’s general insurance business was making losses.
“Would you be interested?”
Apollo went for it and they merged to form APA.
Later
in 2009, Pan-Africa said they wanted to sell their shares and from
their initial Sh16 million, the figure was Sh855 million.
The story of the Khimasia family and how they entered business is perhaps that of every Asian family in Kenya.
It is also the story of how politics informs the growth of a national economy.
This
year marks 100 years since the arrival of Mepa Kanji Shah in Nairobi —
an immigrant who built a solid economic base in the country and helped
others do.
At the Immigration Department, file R1736 will one day be of historical significance. Perhaps.
Jkamau@ke.nationmedia.com @johnkamau1
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