Fellow Kenyans,
On the 9th of April 2013, I took an oath to be the President of all Kenyans. I swore to protect, preserve and propagate the ideals of our Constitution. At the heart of those ideals is the understanding that power belongs to the people, whichever corner of the republic they call home. That is why we devolved power under the new Constitution.
That commitment to devolution explains why I could not be happier to be here, in Machakos, to celebrate this 7th Mashujaa Day with you.
Every part of Kenya is at the centre of Kenya; that’s why we celebrate here in Machakos, and that’s why, next year, we will celebrate the day in another part of our country.
This is unprecedented: for the first time in our history, public holidays are celebrated outside our capital city. Indeed, this is proof of my Administration’s commitment to redeeming the promise of devolution in full.
This day is about our MASHUJAA; as it approached, I thought deeply about what makes a hero. Let us explore together what it means to be a shujaa. Cast your minds back to 1963. For three generations, our people had groaned under the brutal yoke of colonialism.
This dark period of our history was foretold by our prophets: Masaku wa Munyati, Koitalel arap Samoei, and Chege wa Kibiru. They warned us of the struggle to come.
The dark days duly came. Our fathers were enslaved in their own land, required to wear kipandes round their necks; their lands were stolen, their customs and cultures demonised, their families divided.
Our young men were conscripted to fight in foreign wars. Our people were dispossessed and stripped of their dignity. These tribulations forged a generation of men and women of noble character and honour, driven by courage, a deep hatred of injustice, and a fierce desire for freedom. They rose against the might of the British Empire.
Some bore arms – we recall Dedan Kimathi, Paul Ngei and Field Marshall Muthoni. Others — Jomo Kenyatta and Musa Gitau among them — founded independent schools to defend the dignity of African customs.
Some fought with the pen: Henry Muoria and Pio Gama Pinto wrote the words that inspired our freedom fighters.
Still, others gave resources, and worked for our liberation from beyond our borders: the names of Achieng’ Oneko, Makhan Singh and Dennis Pritt, will never be forgotten.
And nor can we forget Muindi Mbingu who endured years in concentration camps for his conviction that Kenyans had a right to rule themselves, or Kisoi Munyao who crowned the struggle by hoisting our flag on Mount Kenya on the very first day of our independence.
These men and women came from every part of the country — some were even born in foreign lands — but for this nation’s sake, they set aside their differences, and endured the lash of the whip; the squalor of jail and the concentration camp; and the brutality of the Emergency. They won our freedom for us; it is they who define heroism for us.
After they won independence, our leaders did not always agree; indeed, their relationships were often fraught with tension.
They disagreed about political ideology, and they disagreed about governance but they never disagreed about the necessity of national unity. They held dear the oneness of our motherland and strove for ways to better attain the promise of Independence.
As we settled into our freedom as a country, the relationship between Kenyans and their government deteriorated. Democratic space narrowed: we lost the freedom to speak our minds and pursue our political visions openly and freely.
And so a new generation of heroes arose to lead a second liberation, which restored the freedoms we had lost: the names of George Nthenge, Kenneth Matiba, Charles Rubia, Masinde Muliro, Martin Shikuku and Ahmed Bamahriz stand for many.
We owe our multiparty democracy to this generation of reformers. In 2002, our journey took a new turn: over the eight years that followed, men and women of courage dared to re-imagine our democracy.
Nzamba Kitonga, Mutula Kilonzo, Kivutha Kibwana, Martha Karua, James Orengo, Otiende Amollo, and Atsango Chesoni — our constitutional heroes were and are men and women of honour, to whom we owe our Constitution, and our new system of governance.
My generation of leaders must realise the promise of this new Constitution. We must entrench devolution; we must restore the unity our fathers attained.
We can do that only by taking this nation beyond the politics of ethnicity — the politics of hatred and division. That day will come only when we build strong national institutions — among them national political parties that truly show the face of Kenya, and which show themselves committed to the values of our national covenant.
Let me be blunt: history will judge this generation by how well we meet that obligation.
And yet, Ladies and Gentlemen, for all our faults, we are in the middle of a new generation of heroes: Lydiah Mukhaye, and her fellow nurses who braved the scourge of Ebola to bring healing and hope to the people of Liberia; men like Salah Farah, who stood up to save his Christian friends during a terrorist attack.
Innovators in technology, like Juliana Rotich; and Kenyans of courage and learning, like David Ole Sankok, who overcame his disability to study medicine, and who now leads the fight for the rights of Kenyans living with disability.
We also have our most recent heroes from Rio.
Let me single out the Paralympian Samuel Muchai, who brought home 2 gold medals; Jemimah Sumgong, the first Kenyan woman to ever win an Olympic marathon gold; and Eliud Kipchoge whose own marathon gold ensured that it was the Kenyan National Anthem that closed the Olympic games.
But even as we celebrate this new generation of heroes, we accept that Kenya has changed: many of our people are so young that they have no memory of heroic past.
So it is our duty to teach them that past – not least so that our young people can distinguish between heroes and the fleeting celebrities of the day, whose only cause is their own fame.
We also teach them about the heroes of the past in the hope that they will emulate them, for Kenya still needs heroes.
Our unity is not complete: we remain divided by ethnicity; the faults of the past still haunt us; and our politics is too vitriolic.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Kenya is a State and a nation. The drafters of our Constitution saw that Kenya is its land, its institutions and its people. But also, and more importantly, they recognised that there is an underlying promise that binds the people of Kenya. Our new heroes will need to hold fast to this promise – this covenant.
Of course, it exists in the hearts and minds of every true son and daughter of this great Republic, whether they live here, or whether they are making a future for themselves in the diaspora. To them, the wellbeing of Kenya is their true North — their reason for being.
We don’t identify our heroes by what they say; we know them by their deeds. Our heroes are the ordinary men and women who do extraordinary things every day.
The mothers and fathers who work diligently to provide for and bring up their families. The men and women of God who teach us in our homes and communities. The workers in the public and private sectors who wake up early to build this nation. The security officers who put their lives on the line in the service of their fellow countrymen. The honest and diligent leaders in their various fields. I salute you. You are my heroes. You are Kenya’s heroes.
This day is yours too. Your achievements inspire us to face the challenges we must confront on our path to becoming a nation our heroes can be proud of — a nation all of us can proudly call home.
But since heroism is so powerful, we need to be careful whom we celebrate as heroes. Heroes do not use our diversity to divide us: they do not use our different religions to sow intolerance, nor do they use our different ethnicities to excite hatred.
Service to family, to community and to nation is what defines a Kenyan shujaa.
So if we wish to honour our heroes of past and the present, then we will work towards becoming better Kenyans, serving each other and our nation.
To truly serve one another is to embrace one another, and the nation we are privileged to call home. It is to labour in good works aligned to the national values and principles. That is how we will secure our future as a nation.
If we inculcate this spirit of service by teaching our children that serving others means that they serve themselves, and that that service makes us all better human beings – better Kenyans – then we will truly be a nation that honors the heroes who won our freedom, and those who restored it.
Fellow Kenyans,
Next year, Kenya holds its second general election under the new Constitution. As we prepare to exercise our right to vote — as we pick our leaders — I ask Kenyans not to be deceived by the loud and ugly rhetoric we will hear in the months to come. In making your choices, focus on what our heroes wanted for Kenya: unity, cohesion, and prosperity.
Let me also speak to the nation’s leadership, whether in the media or in politics, or in business and society. You are, indeed, leaders in your own right; it is time now to become heroes. Campaigns are a delicate period for any country. Kenyans rely on you to navigate this period successfully. As you pursue your own individual and collective aims, I trust that you will show the world that Kenyans can disagree politically, and yet remain a strong and united nation.
For in the end, all we are asked to do is strive to become better Kenyans. And as we become better Kenyans – better citizens – we become a better nation: a nation worth dying for, because only a nation worth dying for is a nation worth living in.
Fellow Kenyans,
This is the work to which your nation and its heroes call you – today, not tomorrow.
God Bless You, God Bless Kenya!