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Memo to Uhuru Kenyatta: Finish up and Go

With nothing but political blunders and policy failures behind him, there is only one thing left that Uhuru Kenyatta can do for Kenya, and that is this. Mr Uhuru Kenyatta, please do us and yourself a big favour; you have neither the mandate nor the wherewithal to shape our political destiny. Just finish up and go.

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December 30 ought to be a memorable day on Kenya’s political calendar. On this day in 2002, Mwai Kibaki took office as the first democratically elected President of Kenya. When it is remembered, though, it is not for the inauguration of Kibaki, but for Moi’s humiliation. The only account we have of the chaotic event is that of Lee Njiru, Moi’s communications chief. According to Njiru, as soon as Uhuru Kenyatta conceded defeat on the afternoon of the 29th, the Kibaki people insisted on an immediate handover. The inauguration was scheduled for the following day without any consultations. At 3 p.m. on that day, Moi got tired of waiting and decided to go down to Uhuru park to get it over and done with. This is how he ended up in the chaotic situation, being jeered at and pelted with mud, bottles and whatever else people could lay their hands on. Kibaki’s description of Moi’s tenure as “years of misrule and ineptitude” did not suggest that there was any intention to treat Moi kindly.

Shortly after assuming power, the NARC administration replaced Moi’s face on the currency with Jomo Kenyatta’s. It was ill-advised. By then, the NARC dream had dissolved into a toxic nightmare. The Kibaki men — later to emerge as the Anglo-Leasing cabal — had walked out of Bomas and gone off to write the Wako/Kilifi draft constitution. Seen through the prism of the NARC fallout, this was not just further humiliation of Moi; it symbolised the resurgence of Kikuyu restorationism — the thing Kikuyu supremacists metaphorise as gūcookia rūūī mūkaro, literally, returning the river to its course, meaning the return of power to where it belongs. For some reason, the Kibaki men seemed to have conflated Moi’s humiliation with the redemption of Jomo Kenyatta. They were mistaken. The rejection of Uhuru Kenyatta in the presidential bid in Central Kenya was, in part, antipathy towards his father’s rule which had already cost him the Gatundu parliamentary seat in 1997. Kaī tūgūthīnjīra hiti keerī? (are we to slaughter our goat for hyenas a second time?), people would ask.

A decade later the humiliation was invoked in conversations that would have seemed completely unrelated — the constitutional debate on the features Kenyan currency should have. It is these sentiments that informed the constitutional provision that outlaws portraits of individuals on the currency. So there was considerable disquiet in many quarters recently when new notes revealed a disingenuous way of keeping Kenyatta’s image on the currency — his statue prominently in the foreground of the Kenyatta International Conference Centre. There are many arresting images of the KICC that do not feature the statue. The State will no doubt seek, and may find defense in legal interpretation, but it is not lost on anyone that the intention is to defeat the spirit of the Constitution. The timing is awful.

I was at a social gathering in Kiambu recently where the dismay and disillusionment with Uhuru Kenyatta hovered over the otherwise succulent goat ribs and aged single malts like the smell of stale beer. The question was raised as to how the gathering would like their sentiments conveyed to Kenyatta. The “session chairman” distilled the sentiments aired into a four-point message: Andū mena thīna mūno (the people are suffering a lot); Ee toro ta Njoramu (he slumbers like the biblical Joram); Nītūmenyete nī mūkoroku ta ithe (we have learned he is as greedy as his father); Nī gūtee (we wasted our votes).

Seemingly unaware of these undercurrents in his backyard, or perhaps all too aware of them, Kenyatta recently appeared at a public gathering where — forgetting that he is the president of all Kenyans — he unleashed a diatribe in Kikuyu, repeatedly addressing the gathering as “andū aitū” (“our people”), and assuring them that he was on top of things. I gather that the outburst was triggered by his deputy arriving at the meeting fashionably late. We witnessed the same thing happen at Kenneth Matiba’s funeral service in Murang’a when Kenyatta came out guns blazing. But his outburst at the Akorino event is of far greater significance.

I was at a social gathering in Kiambu recently where the dismay and disillusionment with Uhuru Kenyatta hovered over the otherwise succulent goat ribs and aged single malts like the smell of stale beer.

The Uhuru-Ruto political pact was sold to the Kikuyu as a peace treaty that would shield the Kikuyu diaspora in the Rift Valley from politically motivated violence — a homegrown solution for which the Kikuyu sacrificed justice for the victims of the 2007/8 post-election violence. The Akorino community has a large presence in the Rift Valley epicenters of political violence. With their distinctive white turbans, this insular, exclusively Kikuyu sect, is a vulnerable, easy target. During Ruto’s trial at the International Criminal Court, evidence was adduced that the Akorino were specifically targeted using the euphemism “plucking mushrooms.” Ruto was personally implicated in the incitement and his defiant arrival at the Akorino meeting would have been unsettling for both Kenyatta and the Akorino — it was as if he had showed up to remind them that they have a deal, and that choices have consequences. Kenyatta, who is not given to introspection or self-restraint, let rip.

The Kenyatta-Ruto succession is the third chapter in the Kikuyu-Kalenjin land-for-power pact which began with the co-option of KADU into the Government, bringing Moi into the centre of power at the expense of Oginga Odinga. In 1967 Moi was elevated to the vice-presidency at the expense of more capable leaders — notably Tom Mboya. Prof. Anyang Nyong’o recalls asking Lee Kwan Yew for his thoughts on how Singapore’s and Kenya’s development trajectories diverged, to which Lee Kwan Yew quipped that we had killed Mboya. The deal with Moi facilitated the migration of the Kikuyu peasantry into the Rift Valley, which in turn enabled Kenyatta and other wealthy Kikuyu notables to acquire for themselves the migrants’ more valuable ancestral lands in central Kenya.

The Uhuru-Ruto political pact was sold to the Kikuyu as a peace treaty that would shield the Kikuyu diaspora in the Rift Valley from politically motivated violence — a homegrown solution for which the Kikuyu sacrificed justice for the victims of the 2007/8 post-election violence

Then came the Kenyatta succession intrigues that can be said to have begun with Mboya’s assassination and the Gatundu oathing ceremonies that sought to ensure that “biki biki itigakīra Chania (the motorcycle outriders will never cross the Chania River, meaning that power would remain in Kiambu). The machinations ranged from an attempt at constitutional change to preclude the Vice President from assuming power in the event of the president’s death (that elicited Charles Njonjo’s decree purporting to criminalise imagining the death of the president) to the more sinister Ngoroko affair, a hit squad embedded in the anti-stock theft police unit suspected to have been meant to assassinate or otherwise incapacitate Moi when Kenyatta died. The scheme was predicated on Kenyatta dying in Nakuru, his favourite retreat, in which case the schemers would have been the first to know. But Kenyatta died at the Coast.

It is now clear that, for whatever reason, Kenyatta and the interest groups he represents have decided that it is not in their interest that he be succeeded by William Ruto. What is unclear is whether there is a Plan B because Plan A, a corruption takedown, is not working. There is only one way to make it work and that is to convict Ruto for corruption. But such is the obsession with neutralising him that they just could not resist the opportunity to weaponise the change of currency notes for a financial takedown. It is believed that a sizeable chunk of William Ruto’s seemingly inexhaustible political war chest is hoarded in cash that he may not be able to convert to the new currency, in effect rendering the stash valueless.

Prof. Anyang Nyong’o recalls asking Lee Kwan Yew for his thoughts on how Singapore’s and Kenya’s development trajectories diverged, to which Lee Kwan Yew quipped that we had killed Mboya

Article 262 (34) of the Constitution — the transitional provision relating to the currency change — states that “Nothing in Article 231 (4) affects the validity of coins and notes issued before the effective date.” Conflating the currency change mandated by the Constitution with this purported war on money laundering has left Ruto’s takedown hostage to the interpretation of this provision by the courts. But even the presumption that repudiating the cash hoards will cripple Ruto financially, and that crippling him financially will neutralise him politically, is wishful thinking. Uhuru Kenyatta’s anti-Ruto schemes are evidently as hare-brained as his father’s acolytes’ ill-fated anti-Moi schemes. And like Moi before him, the longer he survives this onslaught, and the more Uhuru Kenyatta reverts to type — ethnic chauvinism, contempt, dynastic privilege and arrogance of power — the stronger Ruto becomes.

The Kenyatta-Ruto succession is the third chapter in the Kikuyu-Kalenjin land-for-power pact which began with the co-option of KADU into the Government, bringing Moi into the centre of power at the expense of Oginga Odinga. In 1967 Moi was elevated to the vice-presidency at the expense of more capable leaders — notably Tom Mboya

In their “handshake” memorandum, titled “Building Bridges to a New Kenyan Nation,” Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga promised to lead the nation in correcting the sins of their fathers:

We are grateful for our fathers, we stand on their shoulders. Yet we can also see that the promise of our nation has not been met as fully as it should have been; we know there are different measures our founding fathers should have taken as they forged this young nation. H.E. President Uhuru Kenyatta and H.E. Raila Odinga are the two leaders who symbolise the many ways in which the country has gone full circle in its divisions. Intent on not witnessing the country suffer similar future cycles of the same tribulations it has since 1963, they are determined to offer the leadership that prevents future generations inheriting dangerous divisions and offer them a path to a bright future for all.

We have seen none of this. What we see instead is the same shameless politics of self-preservation, cynical ethnic mobilisation, arrogance of power and that quintessential Kenyatta disease — greed.

It has recently emerged that Uhuru Kenyatta is exerting pressure on the government to prioritise the upgrading of the Nairobi Eastern by-pass specifically to benefit the Northlands satellite city project on one of the family’s expansive, dubiously acquired, land holdings. Last week, the official State House twitter handle @StateHouseKenya was promoting Stawi, the lending platform fronted by the Commercial Bank of Africa, the Kenyatta family bank featured in this column some weeks ago. The Central Bank Governor — who is now doubling up as CBA’s chief marketing officer — lied to the public that Stawi will provide cheap credit to small businesses at an interest rate of 9 per cent per year, while in truth, the cost of the loans as measured by the annual percentage rate (APR) averages 35 per cent, and is no different from other digital lenders in the market. Corruption could not be more egregious.

In their “handshake” memorandum, titled “Building Bridges to a New Kenyan Nation,” Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga promised to lead the nation in correcting the sins of their fathers

Yet some Kenyans continue to cling to the hope that he is fighting corruption. Uhuru is not fighting corruption. He is fighting Ruto. And he no longer bothers to hide the fact that he is using state power, his office and public resources to further his private business interests. Much of what we are seeing from him suggests that he may be under the impression that the “Kenya” in Kenyatta is proprietary. One of the sins of the fathers is the personality cult that Uhuru Kenyatta is hell-bent on perpetuating by retaining his father’s image on our currency, against the letter and spirit of the constitution he has sworn to defend. But all is not lost. By showing us the middle finger, Uhuru Kenyatta has ensured that there will come a time to do unto Kenyatta what was done to Moi. And when the music starts, it will not stop at the currency — streets, airports and universities will be fair game.

Having floundered on providing the promised leadership — no surprises there — the handshake is now clinging onto the hope of constitutional amendments to either exclude or neutralise Ruto, a scheme reminiscent of the 1966 Limuru KANU Conference constitutional amendments that replaced the deputy party leader’s position with eight regional vice presidents, in effect ending Oginga Odinga’s chances of succeeding Kenyatta. This constitutional amendment scheme is now a poisoned chalice. We say in Gikuyu, mbūri igūthinjwo ndionagio kahiū (one does not approach a goat for slaughter with the knife in full view).

We have seen none of this. What we see instead is the same shameless politics of self-preservation, cynical ethnic mobilisation, arrogance of power and that quintessential Kenyatta disease — greed.

I have stated many times, and I will restate here again that the leadership that Uhuru and Raila promised behoves them to play the role of honest statesmen who would midwife political reforms leading up to a free and fair election, followed by retirement for both of them. But they have eschewed statesmanship for skulduggery and political intrigue, lending credence to suspicions that the handshake is nothing more than a Kenyatta self-preservation scheme to which Raila Odinga has been enticed with a share of the spoils and a reinstatement of the Odinga clan to the pantheon of Kenya’s ruling dynasties. It is time to end this nonsense.

With nothing but political blunders and policy failures behind him, there is only one thing left that Uhuru Kenyatta can do for Kenya, and that is this:

Mr Uhuru Kenyatta please do us and yourself a big favour; you have neither the mandate nor the wherewithal to shape our political destiny. Just finish up and go.

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David Ndii

David Ndii is one of Kenya's leading economists and public intellectuals.

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Khashoggi Murder: Is There a Double Standard at the United Nations?

The UN’s silence on Khashoggi’s much-publicised murder was surprising for many because his killing had created shockwaves globally, not only because it had occurred inside an embassy but also it had apparently been carried out in a cruel medieval manner that entailed torture and dismembering of body parts.

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Khashoggi Murder: Is There a Double Standard at the United Nations
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In June this year, Agnes Callamard, the United Nations rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions, made a startling statement that is not usually heard within the hallowed chambers of the UN. Not only did she implicate a rich member state in the killing of the Saudi journalist and Washington Post columnist Jamal Khashoggi, she also castigated the UN for not doing enough to address the issue.

Callamard told the UN Human Rights Council, whose members include Saudi Arabia, that Khashoggi’s murder “constituted an extrajudicial killing for which the State of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is responsible”, implying that Saudi prince Mohamed bin Salman, the de facto head of the Saudi kingdom, may have played a crucial role in the brutal murder of the journalist at the Saudi consulate in Istanbul in October 2018. She also criticised the UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres for failing to demand accountability for the murder of the journalist, adding that “the silence of this intergovernmental body and lack of measures were a disservice to the UN and to the world”. (Although Callamard reports to the UN, she is not a UN staff member.)

The UN rapporteur argued that because the UN has remained quiet on the killing of the journalist, who had been a critic of the regime in Saudi Arabia, it has put at risk the lives of all journalists and has violated its own mandate to protect freedom of speech and expression. Journalists and human rights activists around the world had said that the killing of the journalist was a direct assault on freedom of the press. She called on the UN and its member states to carry out an international criminal investigation on the murder.

The UN Secretary-General responded that the only way to carry out such an investigation was through a UN Security Council resolution sanctioned by the Council’s five permanent members, namely the United States, Britain, France, Russia and China. However, this is highly unlikely because at least one of these members – the United States – has been reluctant to push investigations into the murder further. President Donald Trump, who is more keen on selling arms to Saudi Arabia rather than on ensuring that human rights are respected, has been lukewarm about Khashoggi’s murder, and has even hinted on several occasions that doing business with the Saudis is more in the US national interest than ensuring that justice for Khashoggi is done. Callamard claims that the US government did little to assist her investigation, and that she was not granted access to the CIA or the US Department of Justice.

The UN Secretary-General responded that the only way to carry out such an investigation was through a UN Security Council resolution sanctioned by the Council’s five permanent members, namely the United States, Britain, France, Russia and China

The UN’s silence on Khashoggi’s much-publicised murder was surprising for many because his killing had created shockwaves globally, not only because it had occurred inside an embassy but it had apparently been carried out in a cruel medieval manner that entailed torture and dismembering of body parts. The fact that his body has not been found to this day also suggests that perhaps it was burnt beyond recognition or has been buried in a secret location.

Callamard’s call to make the Saudi regime accountable for Khashoggi’s death has largely fallen on deaf ears, with the Saudis insisting that they have carried out their own investigations and that the culprits are facing trial. No one quite believes that these trials are actually being conducted by impartial courts or if even they are, whether the suspects are actually the ones who carried out the killing, which was conducted in hit squad manner that could only have been sanctioned by the highest echelons of the Saudi government. One right-hand man of Prince Salman is widely believed to have overseen the murder but is not among those being prosecuted. Callamard says she received no cooperation from Riyadh when she conducted her investigations, and that Saudi officials have been largely opaque about the case.

It is possible that Callamard is unaware of the limitations of the UN or how international diplomacy works? Or maybe she believes that in her role as an impartial UN rapporteur she can push the international community to do the right thing.

What most people don’t realise is that the UN may appear to be a neutral, independent body, but its decisions have always been influenced by its most powerful and influential member states, who almost always have their way when it comes to handling international crises. For instance, the United States did not seek UN Security Council approval before invading Iraq in 2003, nor did the UN reprimand the US for taking this illegal action.

People also forget that a sizeable number of the UN’s 193 member states are dictatorships or repressive regimes that do not care much for human rights. Freedom of expression is not on top of the agenda of influential member states like China and Russia, for instance. So, as the setter or moral or ethical international standards, the UN is hardly the place to go.

It is possible that Callamard is unaware of the limitations of the UN or how international diplomacy works? Or maybe she believes that in her role as an impartial UN rapporteur she can push the international community to do the right thing.

In the Khashoggi case, Saudi Arabia, a big donor to the UN and a key ally of the UN’s biggest contributor, the United States, will do all it can to prevent an international criminal investigation. Saudi Arabia has already said that it will reject any attempt to undertake an international inquiry. The kingdom’s main allies, the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain and Egypt, have also rejected Callamard’s 101-page report, which does not mince words when naming those who were most culpable for the murder of Khashoggi.

Hush money

Why have the UN and the US remained silent on this issue? Well, partly because Saudi Arabia has bought their silence. The US is keen to keep its relationship with one of the biggest buyers of US-made arms and military hardware, hence the lukewarm response to the murder. And the fact is that the UN Security Council’s five veto-holding permanent members have never really been committed to world peace because wars keep their military industrial complexes going. These countries are the largest manufacturers and suppliers of arms. When wars occur in far-off places, arms manufacturers in these countries have a field day. Wars in former French colonies in Africa keep France’s military industrial complex well-oiled. Wars in the Middle East are viewed by British and American arms manufacturers as a boon for their arms industries.

If there were no wars in the world, the arms industry would have fewer or no customers. It is no surprise then that Donald Trump’s first foreign visit was to Saudi Arabia, which has been buying billions dollars-worth of arms from the United States for decades. Arms from the US have fuelled Saudi Arabia’s ongoing war in Yemen. Thus Saudi officials were neither embarrassed nor dismayed when Trump held up a placard showing the newest weapons his Saudi clients could get their hands on and use in their campaign in Yemen. The connection between military sales and silence on human rights violations became acutely visible in that particular photo opportunity.

In a world where nuclear disarmarmament deals are casually broken by the President of the United States because he has a feud with Iran, the UN remains a paralysed specatator. It has nothing to say, nothing to contribute. No pressure is placed on the United States – which contributes up to a quarter of the UN’s budget – to rethink its policies. There are no press releases issued on the dangers that the cancellation of the deal will pose to world peace.

On the contrary, wars and other disasters provide the UN an opportunity to fund-raise. The UN’s campaign in Yemen, for example, is not about ending the war, but raising donations for the millions who are suffering as a result of the Saudi-led war. Wars and other calamities fuel various United Nations agencies, including the refugee agency UNHCR and the World Food Programme, whose coffers get quickly filled when disaster strikes, which enable their employees to continue earning hefty tax-free salaries.

The UN is also not keen not to upset a key US ally and a big contributor to its coffers. Saudi Arabia uses its vast oil wealth to cover up its crimes. In March 2018, for example, the UN received nearly $1 billion from the Saudi prince as a donation towards the UN’s efforts at alleviating a humanitarian crisis in Yemen – a crisis that would not have occurred if the Saudis had not bombed Yemen in the first place. The war in Yemen has killed several thousands of people and created a humanitarian crisis in which more than 20 million people are in need of basic supplies.

Saudi Arabia – the perpetrator of this war crime – is now trying to be the face of compassion in Yemen. The donation was a great photo opportunity for the prince, who was seen giving the money to a smiling UN Secretary-General at the UN’s headquarters in New York. Antonio Guterres did not use the opportunity to urge the prince to stop the onslaught against the Yemenese people. In fact, the UN has remained rather muted throughout the crisis in Yemen, and only speaks out when soliciting for donations for the traumatised Yemenese population.

And in 2016, after a leaked UN report on children’s rights violations became public, the then UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon admitted to removing Saudi Arabia from a list of countries that had violated children’s rights. This admission shocked the world but did not result in the resignation of the Secretary General.

Hush money has bought the UN’s silence on human rights violations that the Saudi state has committed against the people of Yemen and against its own citizens, including women who are jailed for breaking Saudi Arabia’s draconian laws that punish female car drivers and torture those who dare defy the regime. Ironically, Saudi Arabia even has a seat at the UN Human Rights Council, which has left many human rights defenders equally amazed and disgusted.

That is how international diplomacy works at the UN. Keep quiet when big donors violate human rights, but be vocal about violations committed by small, insignificant countries whose voices are drowned out at the UN Security Council and other UN bodies. Talk about women’s rights in Afghanistan but keep quiet about torture chambers in Saudi Arabia. Scold a poor country like Liberia for not doing enough for children’s education, but ignore the plight of children who are sexually abused or trafficked in the United States. Castigate former child soldiers from Uganda or the Congo for crimes against humanity but ignore the war crimes and mass murders ordered by President George Bush and Prime Minister Tony Blair in Iraq.

If anyone still has any doubt that the UN is fair and impartial, its response to Khassoggi’s murder should lay to rest any such illusions.

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War Games: The Truth behind the Government’s Sudden Attack on the Sports Betting Industry

It thus appears that the assault on the betting companies, far from being a general money-laundering investigation, is actually part of the weaponisation of anti-corruption to take down the said well-moneyed senior politician.

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War Games: The Truth behind the Government’s Sudden Attack on the Sports Betting Industry
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For a government that has earned a reputation for its lackadaisical approach to matters corruption—other than those of its political enemies, that is—the resolute assault it has launched on the sports betting companies is intriguing. According to media reports, it was triggered by the Betting and Licensing Control Board writing to the Financial Reporting Centre asking for an investigation into money laundering in the industry. The Financial Reporting Centre is the unit of the Central Bank responsible for money laundering surveillance.

This sequence of events is suspect. Kenya’s reputation as a money-laundering hotspot is well documented, and the government has been under considerable pressure from the United States government to clean up for a long time. One of the deals underpinning the Jubilee government’s rapprochement with President Obama was a commitment to join the Egmont Group, a multinational collaborative platform for combating money laundering and terrorism financing. The 2019 International Narcotics Control Strategy Report submitted to the United States Congress by the country’s Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs notes that “despite some progress, Kenya has not fulfilled all of its commitments to join the Egmont Group.”

For a government that has earned a reputation for its lackadaisical approach to matters corruption—other than those of its political enemies, that is—the resolute assault it has launched on the sports betting companies is intriguing. According to media reports, it was triggered by the Betting and Licensing Control Board writing to the Financial Reporting Centre asking for an investigation into money laundering in the industry.

The point here is that it is difficult to believe—given America’s intense interest in this matter—that the betting industry has not been on the government’s anti-money laundering radar all along, especially because some of the industry’s foreign investors have been cited in connection with money laundering by the American government. This being the case, it stands to reason that the government could have opened an anti-money laundering investigation on the betting companies without much ado. Few would have been surprised. And it is quite unusual for sanctions to be meted out as part of an investigation, because as far as we know, there is as yet no determination that individual betting companies have been found culpable. Even money-launderers who are operating legally are entitled to due process.

It becomes even more confounding when the government speaks from both sides of the mouth. President Uhuru Kenyatta has been quoted maintaining that the investigation is purely a tax compliance matter: “Some betting firms have been hoarding taxes but we have managed to push them to pay and we will continue doing so. Those in the betting companies are our friends but we have to agree the government must get its rightful share to build cultural centres and other developments.” It is noteworthy that among the local investors profiled since the onslaught began are prominent establishment figures who featured prominently in Jubilee election campaign financing.

First, just how big is this industry? A government investigation reported the industry turnover at Sh200 billion a year. It is also reported that there are 12 million mobile phone-based betting accounts. But according to the Finaccess 2019 survey report, 1.9 per cent of adult Kenyans participate in sports betting. The Finaccess survey tracks financial inclusion, and is conducted once every two years by the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics in partnership with the Central Bank of Kenya and the Financial Sector Deepening (FSD) Trust. The 2019 survey was administered on a nationally representative sample of 11,000 households.

The figure of 1.9 per cent of adult Kenyans translates to 500,000 people. This in turn suggests that on average, punters spend Sh400,000 per year, or Sh33,300 per month on betting. The average annual wage in 2018, as reported in the Economic Survey, was Sh730,000. If we assume that the punters are spread across the income spectrum, that is, they are not concentrated in the high income groups, it would suggest that punters are spending more than half their income on gambling. This does not seem plausible.

It becomes even more confounding when the government speaks from both sides of the mouth. President Uhuru Kenyatta has been quoted maintaining that the investigation is purely a tax compliance matter

The Sh200 billion turnover is also inconsistent with the national economic data. The turnover of an industry corresponds to the gross output of a sector in the production accounts. A gross output of Sh200 billion would be significant considering that it is larger than that of “accommodation and food services” which captures the entire tourism, domestic, hospitality and restaurant services. As per the International Standard Industrial Classification (ISIC) the betting economy falls under the “arts, recreation and entertainment” sector. However, in the production accounts published in the Economic Survey, it is lumped together in a residual category (“other service activities”) although it is reported separately in the GDP figures (GDP is obtained by deducting intermediate inputs and indirect taxes from gross output). The gross output of “other service activities” in 2018 was Sh154 billion, less than the claimed turnover of betting alone, while the GDP for the “arts, recreation and entertainment” economy is only Sh10 billion. Either the statisticians have missed it altogether, or the Sh200 billion turnover figure is wrong.

SportPesa, reportedly the dominant firm in the industry, has published a statement disclosing its 2018 turnover as Sh20 billion. The only market share figure I could find is reported by the financial market information blog, The Kenya Wall Street, which puts SportPesa’s market share in 2016 at 76 per cent, and a small online survey of 300 respondents conducted by Linet Kwamboka of Data Science Ltd. in January 2019, in which two-thirds of the respondents gave SportPesa as their main betting platform (Betting In Kenya, a Menace or an Income?) These figures suggest an industry turnover in the Sh25 billion to Sh30 billion range.

Even this lower figure does not reconcile with the national economic data. As observed, using the “value-added” approach, the GDP is obtained by deducting intermediate inputs from gross output. In aggregate, these add up to about 45 per cent of gross output meaning that GDP is 55 per cent of gross output. That said, intermediate outputs vary a lot by sector, from 20 per cent in financial services to 70 per cent in manufacturing.

We do not know where the industry falls, but according to a data visualisation published in the Daily Nation titled A Gambling Nation: Betting dominates Kenya’s online searches, the betting industry spent Sh22 billion on advertising in 2018. Advertising expenditure would go into intermediate inputs. This outlay alone would reduce the industry’s GDP to no more than Sh8 billion, about three-quarters of the entertainment economy’s GDP. Still not credible. The advertising figures are a likely source of this inconsistency. According to the source, the total amount of spending on advertising in the country was Sh132 billion, and the main media on which it was spent were television, print and radio. But the turnover of the entire mainstream media industry in Kenya is no more than Sh25 billion, which begs the question where the Sh100 billion-plus was spent.

There is also another anomaly. Betting is said to have grown very rapidly; for instance, the Kenyan Wall Street blog reports a 2016 turnover of Sh56 billion which has supposedly grown to Sh200 billion, fourfold growth in two years. The rapid growth should reflect in the GDP. It does not. The gross output of “other services” increased by only Sh29 billion over the two years, and the entertainment sector GDP by only Sh2 billion. It does look like the statisticians are not capturing this growth in the national economic data.

An industry turnover of Sh25 billion-Sh30 billion together with the figure of 500,000 bettors estimated by Finaccess, translates to an average gambling expenditure of between Sh4,000 and Sh5,000 per month. This is a more plausible figure, and it is also in line with the figures reported by the respondents of Linet Kwamboka’s online survey. These figures are telling us that most punters spend between Sh500 and Sh1500 on betting a week—beer money, literary; the Managing Director of Kenya Breweries recently lamented that sports betting has become a serious competitor. By and large, the much-lamented gambling epidemic appears to be no more than substitution of one vice for another. No doubt there are gambling addicts, there always were, just as there are alcoholics.

SportPesa, reportedly the dominant firm in the industry, has published a statement disclosing its 2018 turnover as Sh20 billion. The only market share figure I could find is reported by the financial market information blog

We are still left with the Sh200 billion figure though. Where does it come from? The authorities have not been forthcoming on how the figure was arrived at. I see two possibilities: a purely technical accounting issue, and the money laundering dimension. The accounting issue is well illustrated by this account of The Broker, a punter who contributed to this discussion on twitter:

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Although The Broker gets the gist of it, his math is actually incorrect. His outlay of Sh10,000 generated three betting transactions totalling Sh22,000 (two Sh10,000 bets and one Sh2,000 bet) and he lost Sh7,000 not Sh8,000. The Sh7,000 is the betting company’s total revenue from his betting activity. Let us extrapolate: if we work with the Finaccess figure of 500,000 punters, the Sh. 200 billion turnover figure requires an average of Sh33,000 of betting transactions per person per month, which is within striking distance of The Broker’s figure of Sh22,000.

The Sh200 billion turnover is being buttressed by another figure, that of the 12 million betting accounts held with the mobile phone companies. If each account represented a unique customer, then those 12 million accounts would be held by half the adult population. We also know that the vast majority of bettors are the youth. The 12 million accounts figure is about the same as the total population of the 20-35 age group, which would suggest that virtually every young person has a betting account. That is a stretch and it stands to reason that some punters will have betting accounts with different companies. Still if we assume that each bettor has four accounts on average, this still translates to three million unique accounts, six times the Finaccess figure of 500,000. In its statement, SportPesa gives a figure of 700,000 visitors during the first half of 2019.

Img.2Part of this conundrum may be explained by another contribution to this debate on Twitter by one Jerry, who claims to have opened over 10,000 phantom betting accounts. Pressed to explain why, Jerry said that it was paid work. Why would betting companies pay people to open phantom accounts? The readily apparent reason is to inflate the size of the business and by so doing be able to pass off laundered monies as revenue, as would massive advertising and high profile sports sponsorships. It turns out that the betting epidemic may not be as big as it is made out to be and indeed, the Finaccess findings may be a more accurate reflection of the size of the industry.

According to a source quoted in the media, the Interior Ministry has “established that three politicians are involved in the business through proxies in the firms suspended on suspicion of money laundering”. The article goes on to report one of the issues under investigation as “whether a well-moneyed senior politician is among the shareholders of one of the big suspended firms through a company registered in a tax haven which is being used to launder money stolen from public coffers”.

No prizes for guessing who the well-moneyed senior politician is.

It thus appears that the assault on the betting companies, far from being a general money-laundering investigation, is actually part of the weaponisation of anti-corruption to take down the said well-moneyed senior politician. The vitriolic, lawless modus operandi accords with the manner in which this political warfare is being prosecuted generally. As is Uhuru Kenyatta’s statement—for the betting companies are indeed his friends who, unfortunately for them, have become collateral damage.

It is also telling, I think, that the onslaught on the betting companies has coincided with the high profile arrests and opening of prosecutions in the Arror and Kimwarer dams corruption case. Among the revelations from the investigation is that the money laundering trail led to London and Dubai—both are members of the Egmont Group.

From this we can infer that the Government was quite happy to cozy up to the industry until the William Ruto takedown opened a Pandora’s box. Hitherto, it mattered not whether the betting business is a Sh20 billion or Sh200 billion business, whether it was evading taxes, fuelling a gambling epidemic, or even laundering money for drug lords, human and wildlife traffickers and terrorist networks. You can get away with all that, and even buy protection for all of that, just as long as you steer clear of the struggle for power.

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In Memory of Chris Msando: Murder Most Foul

Mr Christopher Msando was the slain Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission ICT manager, who was assassinated days before the disputed August 8 2017 elections.

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Dear Chris,

It has been two years since we last spoke. A lot has happened, while you have been away. Eva, Allan, Alvin and Allison miss you a lot. The agony of your mother continues to haunt us. The sorrow of your sisters, brothers and friends weighs heavily on many. But the hope of a better tomorrow still beckons. Hope that your death and that of many others was not in vain.

Let me tell you what happened after your brutal torture and murder. Your assassination was roundly condemned. Announcements made on investigations went nowhere. The 8 August 2017 elections proceeded. You remember the concerns you always raised about the electronic transmission of results? It played out in exactly the way you and others feared it would. The system froze at 8:30 pm on Election Day and what happened thereafter, remains a mystery.

The Chairman of the IEBC (Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission) could not confirm or deny if the system had been manipulated. He gave the Glomar response. The one that brings chills down the spine, reminding one on why you paid the ultimate sacrifice. Why they permanently got rid of you. They knew you would have detected and made known the manipulation of the transmission of the presidential result. The games you had alerted the Commission to. The “tunnel” created to the servers. Those servers, which like your murderers, continue to be kept in secrecy.

I will spare you, my brother, the details of what happened thereafter. Baby Samantha Pendo is too young, to tell you of her ordeal under the security forces. Unfortunately, there are more than 100 young men and women lying closer to you with more credible testimonies than I could ever deliver. The lives lost in the pursuit of political interests. In the struggle for electoral justice. The collateral damage in the quest for political and economic control by a tiny elite – the sons of Kenya’s first President and Vice President, respectively. The reign of the dynasties and the clamor of the so-called Hustlers to find a place in the ruling class.

My brother, I know how much you cared about your work at the IEBC. So, indulge me in a bit of gossip that I know you disliked. Do you know that your position is still vacant at the IEBC? Your shoes are seemingly too big to fit. Oh, and the rest of the Commission is in shambles. I am sure you remember the Commissioner with long dreadlocks. The one you often appeared on television with to explain how the KIEMS (Kenya Integrated Election Management System) gadgets worked. Naively thinking that your honesty was enough to change a path the powers had destined years before you started your jobs. Thinking that you could out-manoeuvre ‘the system.’ The real owners of the country. She resigned before the October election.

And that young man who was hired to manage the Secretariat? That one with previous zero management experience. The one who pleaded for your director to be brought back to the Commission after he had been suspended. The one who feared that with you in charge, their plot would be foiled. The one who was among the last people you had a meeting within the office shortly before you disappeared. The one who asked you to return to the office after your television presentation. Yes, the one who was always close to the powers that be. The political class abandoned him. And do you know what happened next? Three Commissioners resigned in solidarity with the young man. I know it will come as a surprise to you that the fluent Swahili-speaking Commissioner was among those three. But your Chairman is still hanging in there, with two unlikely allies. Those two Commissioners who disrespected him the most. The ones who openly defied him all the time.

My brother, I digressed. I know you are curious to know what happened in 2018. Dr. Miguna Miguna swore in the People’s President Raila Odinga on 30 January 2018. It was one of the shortest terms in office. It lasted one month, for he voluntarily gave it up on 9 March 2018. The country was perplexed to see him shaking hands with “his brother” President Uhuru Kenyatta at Harambee House. In the Kenyan style of avoidance disorder, we resorted to humor and labelled it a Handcheque. The country was told that the journey to Canaan was still on. The crocodiles had disrupted it but that their team of experts would build bridges to deliver Kenyans to Canaan. Only if they knew how black people are currently ill-treated in Canaan, they would not dare promise us that! Millions of shillings have been spent on “collecting views” from wananchi. And yet, the report of the experts was probably finalized before they even started their rendezvous. It is the usual elite bargain. The dynasty ganging up to change the constitution to perpetuate their hold on power and the economy.

Speaking of the economy, Chris, it is in peril. According to data from the Central Bank of Kenya, as of January our total debt stood at 5.2 trillion, one of the highest in Africa giving us a debt ratio to GDP of 56%.

If it were not for the remittances from the Diaspora averaging Ksh 24 billion per month, the recently floated kachumbari bond, the bailout by the World Bank among other fiscal policies, the situation would have been worse. Corruption is at its highest peak. According to the Corruption Tracker website, the total amount of money stolen from public coffers stands at a staggering KES 8,061,872,800,000 since 2014. The intra-Jubilee Party fights have one silver lining as the different factions are competing to expose each other. Each day they wash their dirty linen in public, allowing us to have a glimpse of the extent of their theft.

Chris, I know you do not have much time to read all this. You have better company. I can imagine what it must be to listen to the Kenyan heroines and heroes of the democratic struggle who rest in peace with you. The numerous men and women murdered by the Kenyatta I and Moi regimes. Those who lost their lives in the various post-election violence episodes. Those who paid the ultimate price in the liberation struggle. But spare me a few more minutes to tell you about the latest in our political machinations.

I will invoke the name of the love of your life to get your attention. Do you remember Eva’s speech at your funeral service? It was moving and powerful. Her words, “may you not have peace”, continue to haunt us each day. Collectively as a country, we have found peace elusive. Those high-ranking politicians who tried to malign you, to cover up your assassination, many of them are now claiming that their lives are in danger. It is as if the hunter has become the hunted. Remember those who refused the services of foreign intelligence services to unravel your murder? They are now busy visiting those foreign countries in the name of capacity building to undertake investigations. Oh, my friend, Chris, I can hear your quintessential booming laughter.

You must be saddened to see the hopelessness among the youth. The unemployment rate is unsustainably high. There is a sustained gutting down of our education sector with a Cabinet Secretary who de-emphasizes university education. The running down of the health services with no respect for the nurses and doctors. The pain of farmers who have no competitive prices for their maize and yet the cartels are bringing in imports. The extra-judicial killings of young men in marginalised neighbourhoods. The depression of a nation, the devasting mental illness with the associated spike in suicides, femicides and homicides. The plunder of our environment in the race for resource extraction.

Knowing you, I must stop enumerating the problems. You were always the ultimate optimist, pragmatist and problem solver. There is no challenge that was insurmountable to you. You always defined the challenge and provided options, even on what appeared to be impossible tasks like protecting the servers!

Chris, I will finish on a rather positive note. That despite the gloom, there is hope. Young men and women are organizing on social media in ways unimaginable to those of our age. They have initiated social justice centres throughout the country to push back on extra-judicial killings. The #SwitchOffKPLC and The DeCoalonize movements are leading on fighting off the energy cartels and for environmental justice. The fledging Kenya Tuitakayo Movement, continues to unify Kenyans around common objectives. The Limuru III meeting on 7 July re-energized the calls for a grass-root based leadership to secure the leadership of the State and defend the 2010 Constitution. New political parties such as the United Green Movement, Ukweli Party, among others promise alternative leadership to the country. There is hope that the struggle for social, political and economic liberation is not in vain.

Let me stop here for now, for I know that on this second anniversary of your murder, there are many others waiting in line for your attention.

Rest in peace my brother.

My very best regards,

Miriam

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