Adapted from the Odede family by Dr. Joyce Nyairo whose first version of the article appeared in the Sunday Nation of October 20, 2024.
In restriction, Rachilo was allowed visits from his family. In his autobiography, Not Yet Uhuru, Jaramogi
Oginga Odinga says the Chief Secretary declined to grant him and his wife permission to visit his
friend in Samburu.
But even though many of us were young children, we remember fondly that despite this refusal, Jaramogi made sacrifices to make sure we were able to visit our father.
He drove us and our mother, Clara, to the train station to start the journey to Archer’s Post abattoir where Rachilo was held.
Alice Magolo, who was at the time the youngest child of our first Mum, Fedelia, recalls the strict terms of
those family visits and how the freedom fighters circumvented colonial scrutiny.
“We were not allowed to carry anything… No one was allowed to talk to him except in English which the whitemen could understand and that is why Jaramogi wrote letters updating him about the situation in the country. Such letters were hidden under my rubber shoes. Upon arrival, I would remove the letter and give it to Dad.”
One of our younger sisters was conceived during one of these family visits.
Rachilo named her Samburu to commemorate his years in detention, a name she carries to date.
At the end of one family visit, Rachilo refused to let go of one of our brothers, Jorry, who he left as a four-month-old infant on the night he was detained and who was now a school-going child.
“I stayed with him until the day he was released. “
We were driven in a Land Rover to our Ruma home.
It is fashionable these days to sneer at restriction, to argue that those held under its terms suffered little as they had comforts unknown to the prisoners in detention camps. ‘But the eight-year absence unsettled Rachilo.
To be kept away from your home without knowing when you will ever be released is psychological torture.
Perhaps a prison sentence which comes after a trial — such as those at Kapenguria had — is easier on the mind because one knows the length of the sentence.
Rachilo’s detention also affected us, his family. Our grandfather Obonyo, a fisherman, took on the extra burden of caring for us and our two mothers.
But our standard of living had come a long way down from the Makerere years when Rachilo was a Lecturer at the School of Veterinary Science.
Our bewildered community kept his name alive.
Like us in the family, they missed Rachilo’s presence, his counsel, and his support and they wondered out loud, in stories and in songs, where the white man had taken him, and why.
Just recently, Dr. Peninah OcholaOdhiambo warmed our hearts with memories of a music festival where her school bagged a trophy for their performance of Odede K’Obonyo
Odede K’Obonyo woud Owila.
Rachilo onindo kure woud jo
Chianda.
Eh eh eh Odede
ho ho ho Odede.
Wasunge tweyo mana kongeyo
onindo kure woud jo Chianda.
…TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT SERIES…
