I Chose You, Not Mau Mau

January 23, 1953

My dearest Wamuyu,

I didn’t sleep last night. I was so worried something had happened to you. But this morning Gaciku, the daughter of your neighbor Muriuki, came to the camp. She brought us food, clothes, and some medicine.

I called her aside as soon as I could to ask if anything had happened to you. She told me she saw you last evening walking with your mother past their home. Then my heart rested. I knew you were safe.

I thank Ngai, the Almighty God, Mwene Nyaga, for looking after you and protecting you from all dangers in these difficult times.

Why didn’t you come to our secret meeting place? I waited for you until the sun started going down. I would have stayed longer but I had to come back to the camp in the forest before sunset. You know it’s not safe to move at night.

You remember my friend and schoolmate Kinyanjui. He was gunned down two weeks ago in Nyandarua forest. He had sneaked out of the camp to meet with non-fighters and on the way back came across some government forest rangers. They shouted at him to stop but he ran and they shot him down.

Don’t ever let anyone see these letters. We are not supposed to reveal the deaths of freedom fighters to civilians, even their families. We are instructed to say they have been transferred to another district for six months.

If our commanders knew I’ve said Kinyanjui was killed by the enemy, our own people would kill me. I would be regarded as a traitor.

I long to see you; to see your warm smile and hear your soft voice.

Why didn’t you come to our secret place? Did your father forbid you?

Gaciku has agreed to bring this letter to you, so let me end here.

Yours for ever,

Kimuri.

*** *** ***

February 4, 1953

My dearest Kimuri,

I miss you so much. I wish I could just see you.

I really wanted to come to our meeting place but my father has forbidden me from leaving the house unaccompanied. I have to go everywhere with my big sister Njeri or my mother.

And I don’t know how my father knew that you and I have been meeting. He threatened to disown me and banish me from home. He is not only mad because I have a boyfriend, but more so because you are Mau. I tried to reason with him, telling you that you are a freedom fighter, fighting to get back what the colonialists took away from us.

My dear Kimuri, my father calls you a terrorist and says you are a heathen who does not believe in God. I tell him you believe in the God of the Mountain, the Mwene Nyaga.

When my father is reading the Bible, he is not so harsh. He listens to me and tries to convince me that Jehovah is the only true God. I think reading the Bible makes my father a more reasonable person.

But when he’s not reading his Bible he is unreasonable and shouts at me. “How can you answer me, child? Respect your elders, especially your father.”

Sometimes I want to remind my father that I’m almost 20, so I’m no longer a child. Kimuri, we don’t need my father’s permission to marry. We are old enough to make our decisions, but since I still live in my father’s house, I have to obey him.

My darling, I hope we can get married as soon as this terrible war is over. When will it be over? I know I should not ask this to a soldier fighting in the frontline, but do you think the Mau Mau have a chance of defeating the colonialists?

I wanted to write much more but Gaciku said I must place the letter at our secret spot at 12:00 noon; and not a minute later. So I have to end now. By the way, I use the big wall clock that my father brought from the mission center.

Your loving future wife.

*** *** ***

March 20, 1953

My dear Wamuyu,

This is urgent!!! You and your family must leave home immediately. Go to your maternal grandmother’s house, or anywhere else. Just make sure you’re not at home.

Something big is being planned for loyalists like your father and their families. Make sure you’re not at home for the rest of this month.

Please don’t ask any questions. Just go.

Your loving Kimuri.

*** *** ***

April 15, 1953

My dear Kimuri,

Thank you for saving me and my family. We are now back home.

We are absolutely shocked. In fact, this is more than shocking. Entire families in our neighborhood have been wiped out. I support the freedom struggle Kimuri, but why kill women and children?

Do you know what the Mau Mau did? They came at night when people were home, secured the entrances from the outside so people could not escape, and then set the houses ablaze. People were burnt alive. And anyone who tried escaping through the windows was cut down with machetes.

Some of the family members burnt and hacked to death were our friends. What does this mean for the future of our community and our nation?

The Mau Mau had no mercy! Even newborn babies!! They wanted to wipe away whole families of loyalists and home guards. Oh Kimuri, I’m really sad. Is this what fighting for our freedom means?

Kimuri, I know how kind and considerate you are. But has the freedom war turned you into an unfeeling monster?

And the colonialists in turn rounded up everyone they suspected of being Mau Mau and killed them. The loyalists and the colonialists are Christians, followers of Christ, who preached forgiveness. But they did not forgive the Mau Mau. They killed them mercilessly.

Some of those killed were not Mau Mau. It’s just that they have not spoken against Mau Mau publicly.

I’m confused Kimuri. Can you and I get married? What shall we tell our children? I know you did not take part in the killing. We’ve learned that for this operation, the Mau Mau used members from other communities, outside this area.

But if your commanders ordered you to do a similar operation in another part of the country Kimuri, would you do it?

I don’t know what to do Kimuri. I love you, but I’m confused.

*** *** ***

Letter to my heart

May 1953

Dear Kimuri,

I know that you’re dead but I have chosen to write this letter. It’s a letter to you and to my own heart. A letter to say goodbye.

Gaciku told me you died in the forest. She is not supposed to tell non-fighters but she did. She told me not to be sad; that you died fighting for our country. But I am sad. I cannot help being sad.

Gaciku told me that your comrades buried you in the forest. I could not attend your burial… I never had a chance to say goodbye.

I miss you terribly. All the plans we made for our future are now dead. Dead and buried in the forest. We planned to have many children. Now you will never have children. And when this terrible war is over, will those you fought for remember you?

Will the people of Kenya remember you, my love? Will they remember those who fought to liberate our country from colonialism? Will your mother’s heart ever heal?

I hope to see you in heaven. Do those who die in battle and who have killed others in war go to heaven? They teach us in church that God is merciful and forgives those who repent of their sins.

Did you repent Kimuri? Did you repent before you died?

I know you believed in our God of the Mountain, Mwene Nyaga. But does this mean you will be admitted to heaven?

Rest in peace my darling.

The one who would have been your wife,

Wamuyu.