On an unidentified day, a week no one seems to place, a month that has disappeared into the woodwork of history, roughly 2000 years ago, a man went down a road towards a city.
Around him were loud crowds, livestock, and men with weapons. He was riding on a mule.
Around him were loud crowds, livestock, and men with weapons. He was riding on a mule.
Roughly one thousand nine hundred years later. On 12th January 1908, another man was riding toward what would become a major town. He was surrounded by men with weapons and thousands upon thousands of cattle.
He, too, was riding on a mule.
He, too, was riding on a mule.
Riding into that city was catastrophic for the first man.
In a few days, he would be speared and tossed him into a staring contest with death.
The second man didn't know it yet, but centuries later he too would be speared sent to face the grim reaper.
In a few days, he would be speared and tossed him into a staring contest with death.
The second man didn't know it yet, but centuries later he too would be speared sent to face the grim reaper.
History has not been kind to the soldier who speared the first man. He's been judged by generation after generation. The first man was innocent.
That man was none other than Yeshua, more popularly known, up to now, as Jesus.
That man was none other than Yeshua, more popularly known, up to now, as Jesus.
You have heard his story repeatedly in any space that can accommodate a preacher.
The second man is not as popular.
His name is Nyaringoti.
According to the rules of that time? He sure as hell deserved to be speared!
The second man is not as popular.
His name is Nyaringoti.
According to the rules of that time? He sure as hell deserved to be speared!
The warrior wielding the second spear, however, enjoys a special place in the hearts of those who know about him—those who remember.
We are not many, but today you join our ranks.
He is a saviour to us.
His name is Otenyo Nyamantere.
We are not many, but today you join our ranks.
He is a saviour to us.
His name is Otenyo Nyamantere.
It is in the early 1900s.
The Abagusii are some of the coolest people around.
They spend days farming, nurturing cattle, smoking weed, training warriors, brewing Busaa, racing dirt bikes, and flexing for the gram.
The Abagusii are some of the coolest people around.
They spend days farming, nurturing cattle, smoking weed, training warriors, brewing Busaa, racing dirt bikes, and flexing for the gram.
Okay, maybe the last two are an exaggeration, but everything else is actually happening. Yes. Even the shasholakwabashola part.
Two things are in vogue at this time in the region: beads and cattle raids. It is not even considered war. It's just a way for the warriors to make their bones.
The Maasai do it; The Sabaot do it, the Wanga, the Kipsigis… Everyone.
The Abagusii are specifically good at it.
The Maasai do it; The Sabaot do it, the Wanga, the Kipsigis… Everyone.
The Abagusii are specifically good at it.
Their warriors are buff and brave, experts with weapons, and with that rare fine balance between bravery and recklessness.
In fact, in 1904, they've just raided a neighboring community with great success. The warriors have come back home with countless cows, goats, and sheep!
In fact, in 1904, they've just raided a neighboring community with great success. The warriors have come back home with countless cows, goats, and sheep!
Drums are brought out, shakers tied to ankles, pots and gourds of Busaa materialize, someone lights a joint, and celebrations ring out!
Omochie to ebisarate!
Hill to the next.
Shots shot!
Moves pulled!
MaliSaf chained!
For nights on end.
Life is good!
Up until it is not.
Omochie to ebisarate!
Hill to the next.
Shots shot!
Moves pulled!
MaliSaf chained!
For nights on end.
Life is good!
Up until it is not.
One morning, people in one of the villages wake up to find themselves surrounded by strangers wearing weird clothes and carrying long sticks.
Warriors dash to grab their weapons and protect the people but are cut short by loud bangs from the sticks the strangers are holding.
Warriors dash to grab their weapons and protect the people but are cut short by loud bangs from the sticks the strangers are holding.
No one has ever seen anything like it before! The sticks tear holes through the bodies of those they are aimed at and kill them instantly!
What witchcraft is this?!
What witchcraft is this?!
The people in charge of the attack look like curdled milk. They have weak hair and speak in a language none of the villagers have heard.
No one has ever seen such people before!!!
What the Kisii people do not know is that these strangers have come from England.
No one has ever seen such people before!!!
What the Kisii people do not know is that these strangers have come from England.
United Kingdom, Britain that claims greatness (you know chema chajiuza), British Isles... Multiple names for a place many moons away.
With horrible weather, worse food, and an unquenchable thirst for innocent blood.
With horrible weather, worse food, and an unquenchable thirst for innocent blood.
They showed up one day, looked around, and decided that this land was theirs.
Ridiculous!
Now the AbaGusii are under the rule of the King of England. In the Uganda protectorate. More specifically, in the jurisdiction of a sub-commissioner, Baggie, who has set camp in Kisumu.
Ridiculous!
Now the AbaGusii are under the rule of the King of England. In the Uganda protectorate. More specifically, in the jurisdiction of a sub-commissioner, Baggie, who has set camp in Kisumu.
Turns out no one had bothered to let the AbaGusii know all this.
They have been going on with their regular way of life, blissfully oblivious, including the recently concluded and successful raid.
That raid is the start of their problems.
They have been going on with their regular way of life, blissfully oblivious, including the recently concluded and successful raid.
That raid is the start of their problems.
It angers sub-commissioner Baggie so much that he orders a man called Milton to go and punish the AbaGusii. Milton gets a force of 100 soldiers and 50 police officers.
The brutes with guns land on Gusii in a torrent of bullets.
The brutes with guns land on Gusii in a torrent of bullets.
That village is just the beginning.
They move through South Mugirango, Nyaraba, killing everyone in sight, burning houses, seizing cattle!
A man tries to protest after the soldiers take his prized bull. They turn and shoot him point blank. He dies immediately.
They move through South Mugirango, Nyaraba, killing everyone in sight, burning houses, seizing cattle!
A man tries to protest after the soldiers take his prized bull. They turn and shoot him point blank. He dies immediately.
Another man, a chief called Oyugi of Wanjare, is forced, at gunpoint, to hoist Union Jacks on the roofs of houses in his area to remind the people of the brutality of the British.
An elder called Nyakina cannot take any more of the bloodshed. He approaches the invaders while unarmed and tries to negotiate for peace. To use reason. To appeal to their brutality. He finds none.
These are the zombies holding up the crown.
These are the zombies holding up the crown.
He soon discovers that the British mind only knows stolen art, stolen land, and murdered babies.
The British trick him by acting like they are listening. When he gets close, they shoot him in the neck. The old man drowns in a pool of his own blood where he sought to sow peace.
The British trick him by acting like they are listening. When he gets close, they shoot him in the neck. The old man drowns in a pool of his own blood where he sought to sow peace.
They then turn upon his fellow villagers and open machine gun fire. They massacre over a hundred Africans in that instance alone.
The British forces move on. Laughing their heads off - having the time of their lives, dedicating the blood in their hands to Edward VII.
The British forces move on. Laughing their heads off - having the time of their lives, dedicating the blood in their hands to Edward VII.
The so-called "Peace-Maker" King also happens to be the uncle of the German who started the first world war a few years later.
The licentious monarch smokes 20 cigarettes and 12 cigars a day. Led and encouraged by Milton, his soldiers aim to snuff out more lives per day.
Each.
The licentious monarch smokes 20 cigarettes and 12 cigars a day. Led and encouraged by Milton, his soldiers aim to snuff out more lives per day.
Each.
They move on, wreaking havoc upon every village they encounter.
Men are shot in the back as they run away.
Women are killed where they kneel, pleading to be spared…
Children's heads are blown apart as they emerge from houses to see what is happening.
Men are shot in the back as they run away.
Women are killed where they kneel, pleading to be spared…
Children's heads are blown apart as they emerge from houses to see what is happening.
It's dreadful, but right within the scope of the things, the British consider civilizated.
It goes on for an entire month!
A September of death and terror.
It goes on for an entire month!
A September of death and terror.
One of Milton's partners is a 25-year-old man called Geoffrey Alexander Stafford Northcote. AKA GAS Northcote. The AbaGusii call him Nyaringoti, and who are we to do otherwise?
When we first encounter him, he is part of that ruthless outfit creating hell for people who do not even know what their crime is. Kenya is his first posting.
After that month is done, he returns to Kisumu with the troops and leaves the Kisii people to bury their dead, mourning.
After that month is done, he returns to Kisumu with the troops and leaves the Kisii people to bury their dead, mourning.
Reduced to a shadow of the great community they had been.
They vow never to forget what the white man has done to them.
Three years pass by, and Nyaringoti rises through the ranks.
Soon, the colonial government is looking for someone to send to Kisii as an administrator.
They vow never to forget what the white man has done to them.
Three years pass by, and Nyaringoti rises through the ranks.
Soon, the colonial government is looking for someone to send to Kisii as an administrator.
They discover that he had toured the area during that orgy of violence and decide that he is the man for the job. He sets his camp at a place called Getembe. It would later grow to be the current Kisii town.
The region is in bad shape.
The region is in bad shape.
It has not recovered from the massacre and destruction of 1904.
The people are hungry and angry.
A diviner called Moraa tries her best to keep the people strong and to maintain the traditional way of life. She keeps urging the warriors to unite and resist oppression.
The people are hungry and angry.
A diviner called Moraa tries her best to keep the people strong and to maintain the traditional way of life. She keeps urging the warriors to unite and resist oppression.
It is necessary. They soon learn.
As soon as Nyaringoti unpacks, he starts formulating smaller expeditions designed around the one in 1904.
Massacres. Arson. Desolation.
The AbaGusii lose more people.
More cattle.
More land.
As soon as Nyaringoti unpacks, he starts formulating smaller expeditions designed around the one in 1904.
Massacres. Arson. Desolation.
The AbaGusii lose more people.
More cattle.
More land.
In one of these brazen acts of barbaric British terror, Nyaringoti raids Kitutu and manages to seize over eight thousand head of cattle. It's one of the biggest raids he has ever done.
The Kisii warriors did not find the irony of the white man raiding them - to remind them that raiding is bad according to the white man's laws - funny.
A contingent of them marches to the compound of their diviner, Moraa, to seek advice.
A contingent of them marches to the compound of their diviner, Moraa, to seek advice.
Moraa does not forsake them. She blesses them, giving them special Busaa and spells to reduce the British bullets to water.
They are invincible!
They are invincible!
A pair of feet hits the road after the other. Spears and swords are so sharp that if a mosquito dares land on any edge, it will be cut in two clean halves.
They are gleaming in the sun, these proud sons of the AbaGusii.
It is time for glory.
Time for vengeance
Time for freedom.
They are gleaming in the sun, these proud sons of the AbaGusii.
It is time for glory.
Time for vengeance
Time for freedom.
They are following a man with a plan—a man who has just lost some of his best cows and is tired of this British nonsense. Moraa is a second mother to that man.
The man's name is Otenyo Nyamantere!
The man's name is Otenyo Nyamantere!
Otenyo's plan is simple.
1. Follow the British troops
2. Wait for an opportune moment
3. Spread out.
4. Serve vengeance with kachumbari.
1. Follow the British troops
2. Wait for an opportune moment
3. Spread out.
4. Serve vengeance with kachumbari.
Ahead, the soldiers laugh - relaxed. They've eviscerated unsuspecting people so many times now it is almost boring.
Cows moo. Goats kick.
Sheep march on, stunned.
Leading them is none other than the villain himself—the representation of the evil power of England.
Nyaringoti.
Cows moo. Goats kick.
Sheep march on, stunned.
Leading them is none other than the villain himself—the representation of the evil power of England.
Nyaringoti.
He is riding on a mule. Headed towards Jerusalem!
Sorry, Kisii – I mean.
Headed towards Kisii.
He is smiling. A glance over his shoulder reassures him that this latest act will break the Gusii spirit.
Sorry, Kisii – I mean.
Headed towards Kisii.
He is smiling. A glance over his shoulder reassures him that this latest act will break the Gusii spirit.
He is so happy with himself that he does not notice a dark cloud has come over the sun. Or that the birds in the bushes on either side of the road have stopped singing.
He had no clue that he has been surrounded.
He had no clue that he has been surrounded.
There is a part of the plan that Otenyo has not revealed to his warriors. He goes over the final details in his head as he maneuvers silently through the bush.
He grew up here and knew every inch of this land.
He can move like the wind.
He grew up here and knew every inch of this land.
He can move like the wind.
Otenyo finds a nice spot with a clear road view but still discreet enough to hide him. He lies there in wait.
Watching as the smiling white man approaches at the head of the caravan.
Watching as the smiling white man approaches at the head of the caravan.
He knows that even looking at a European in the eye is a crime terrible enough to earn a bullet.
Otenyo is not one to be scared by such small details.
He mentally calculates the distance between the approaching mule and his hiding spot and tightens his grip around the spear.
Otenyo is not one to be scared by such small details.
He mentally calculates the distance between the approaching mule and his hiding spot and tightens his grip around the spear.
When the mule and its rider get close enough, Otenyo springs to his feet.
His eyes lock with Nyaringoti's.
The condescending emptiness he sees in them reassures him that this is the right thing to do. All his years of training come back to him.
His eyes lock with Nyaringoti's.
The condescending emptiness he sees in them reassures him that this is the right thing to do. All his years of training come back to him.
He masters all his strength to his right arm, aims, and throws the spear with a force he did not imagine existed within him.
All this happens within a split second.
All this happens within a split second.
When Nyaringoti sees the muscular warrior emerge from the bush like a lion on the hunt, he knows this will not be a regular day. He has heard that death is old, with stooping shoulders under a black hooded cloak.
He now knows - for sure - that this here is death.
He now knows - for sure - that this here is death.
Death does not carry a scythe. He carries a gleaming spear. The spear in the air, slicing through the wind with a whistle!
His first reflex is to reach for his gun, but it is too late.
Otenyo is staring right into his eyes.
And Otenyo Nyamantere is sure of his aim.
His first reflex is to reach for his gun, but it is too late.
Otenyo is staring right into his eyes.
And Otenyo Nyamantere is sure of his aim.
The spear hits Nyaringoti, rips through his flesh, lifts him off the mule, throws him onto the ground, and pins him there with the weight of all the grief he has caused the community.
Pain explodes through him, and he lets out a scream of anguish.
Pain explodes through him, and he lets out a scream of anguish.
The king back in England doesn't feel a thing.
Otenyo disappears as silently as he had appeared. Like dew in the morning.
Nyaringoti has fallen.
Word spreads through the land at regular shocking tea speeds. From mouth to ear. From house to house. From village to village. The Edgar Obares of the day do not sleep.
Nyaringoti has fallen.
Word spreads through the land at regular shocking tea speeds. From mouth to ear. From house to house. From village to village. The Edgar Obares of the day do not sleep.
From every omochie to each ebisarate.
The story is one: Otenyo Nyamantere has killed the white DC!
Otenyo had saved everyone! Nyaringoti is dead! Oh, how the people rejoice!
Vengeance is finally served.
The story is one: Otenyo Nyamantere has killed the white DC!
Otenyo had saved everyone! Nyaringoti is dead! Oh, how the people rejoice!
Vengeance is finally served.
Nyaringoti has finally answered for all the wasted lives. Blessings are sent towards Otenyo in abundance. May his name live forever!
May he never be forgotten.
May he never be forgotten.
Whether or not these blessings get to Otenyo, we do not know.
He has already gone into hiding by then.
All we know is that the news of what Otenyo had done is dispatched to Kisumu, where a telegram is dispatched to England.
He has already gone into hiding by then.
All we know is that the news of what Otenyo had done is dispatched to Kisumu, where a telegram is dispatched to England.
Winston Churchill, who is in charge of the colony's affairs, understands how such acts of bravery can inspire oppressed people.
Contingents of warriors have already picked up their weapons and gone on an evangelical mission to spread Otenyo's gospel of kisasi.
Contingents of warriors have already picked up their weapons and gone on an evangelical mission to spread Otenyo's gospel of kisasi.
The colonial officers in Kisumu are in a panic, claiming the region is about to collapse into full-blown war. Churchill gives them a license to do everything possible to keep the rebellion at bay.
A license to kill.
A license to kill.
Reinforcements arrive on 13th January 1908 and go on another murderous campaign until 13th February.
They get frustrated, though. They cannot find Otenyo. No one will give him up. Most people prefer a bullet to being a traitor—especially a traitor to terrorists.
They get frustrated, though. They cannot find Otenyo. No one will give him up. Most people prefer a bullet to being a traitor—especially a traitor to terrorists.
The number of people they confirm to have killed is one hundred sixty. Most of them succumb to gunshot wounds.
Winston Churchill orders them to cover everything up to avoid criticism.
The killing is so bad that Moraa is forced to use her influence to end the war.
Winston Churchill orders them to cover everything up to avoid criticism.
The killing is so bad that Moraa is forced to use her influence to end the war.
She summons the warriors and elders to meet the British and cut a peace deal. Otenyo is tricked out of hiding and handed over to the white men.
The Gusii people learn that Nyaringoti isn't dead.
The Gusii people learn that Nyaringoti isn't dead.
The tremendous efforts of the British doctors helped him escape death by a whisker and parade him like a fattened ram.
Otenyo is tried in public and sentenced to death.
They take him to Kisii Stadium and execute him via a firing squad.
The British then decapitate him.
Otenyo is tried in public and sentenced to death.
They take him to Kisii Stadium and execute him via a firing squad.
The British then decapitate him.
Otenyo Nyamantere's head, it is said, is shipped off to London as proof - where it is displayed in a British museum to this day.
His body is left on a bridge.
That is what the good people of Kisii bury. A headless body.
The spirit of Otenyo cries for justice a century later.
His body is left on a bridge.
That is what the good people of Kisii bury. A headless body.
The spirit of Otenyo cries for justice a century later.
• • •
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