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This sample is from one of Jane's magazine articles, of which she did hundreds from the late 1950s to the last years of her life. In this 1962 photo feature published in Modern Man, she recounts the history of the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya and tells of her interview with Jomo Kenyatta, then the Minister of State and later to become Prime Minister and then President. The article shows her remarkable skill at combining tight, thirlling narration with responsible journalism to create a striking impression of a stuggling nation at a crossroads in its history. Note also how the artwork and photographs contribute to the overall vivid impression of the piece.
Captain Cheetah slashed his gleaming long-knife through dim rays of moonlight and stepped part way up a small hill, in a clearing, some 15 miles from the African city of Nairobi. He stared down to where I stood between two black-skinned warriors in monkey-hide robes, Then a movement spread among the several dozen Kikuyu tribesman gathered behind me. I turned and saw the beginning of the ritual. Bare-breasted women, whose ebony skins glistened with sweat and oil, passed among the warriors handing out small balls of “meat made from human brains.”
Captain Cheetah watched in silence. He was the leader, and his nickname had been contrived to keep his identity secret--like that of most other leaders in the Mau Mau organization. Behind him, near the crest of the hill and in sight of all who participated in the vile ritual, selected men and young women made slow, deliberate erotic movements with their naked bodies. And then a hush fell over the crowd as Captain Cheetah raised his knife. He peered into the darkness and asked his followers to repeat after him the fateful words of the first oath: “We vow to cut, kill, mutilate and destroy all white settlers in our land--and all Africans who oppose us in our struggle for uhuru !"
All voices spoke as one, with special emphasis on the last word, which is Swahili for “independence.” Now they were members of the secret and deadly society know as the Mau Mau !
Captain Cheetah came down the hill directly towards me, and in the moonlight I could see his white teeth shining in a smile.
He spoke to me in crisp English, “You see how it was done.”
“It’s frightening,” I said.
“This was nothing.” he said. “When I myself took the first oath, there were 10,000 Kikuyu, and up there. . .” he pointed to the top of the hill. . . “those who pretend--on that night, they did not pretend.”
“Ugh! I can picture what it must have been like.” And even now, as I gazed across the wide, moonlit clearing, I could almost feel the presence of thousands of murder-mad savages swearing to tear apart everyone who stood in their way of independence. I was relieved to see the tribesmen leaving for their nearby village.
“Thank you,” I said, “for the demonstration.”
“It was something to do,” Captain Cheetah said. Then into his eyes there came a look of--well, almost nostalgia.
Captain Cheetah had been a so-called “gang leader” when the Mau Mau terrorized Kenya, and because he did not want to be identified, he refused to tell me his real name. The “Captain Cheetah” referred to the cheetah-skin cape he wore during his guerrilla campaigns under “General Leopard.” He was educated, however, and he agreed to cooperate with me in preparing my story, especially when he learned that I had interviewed the leader of the Kikuyus, Jomo Kenyatta. I had been introduced to Cheetah by a tribesman named Peter Koinga, who had served under him, but who now works in a petrol station in Nairobi.
That is one of the ironies of Africa. One day a Kikuyu may work side-by-side with the British, speaking in English, servicing modern motor vehicles, learning the ways of civilization. Then suddenly, the very next day, he may revert to savagery and dash through the bush to attack a plantation, shouting in Swahili and brutally hacking a white man’s family to pieces with an ugly, flashing blade.
As Captain Cheetah left us, Koinga opened his palm and glanced at the small stone that had been passed to him during the mock ritual to represent the “brain meat.” He let it drop into the grass and said, “We go now?”
I nodded. “We go now, Peter.” And we walked toward the Jeep.
It was at midnight on December 8, 1949, that 10,000 primitive natives had first gathered in the African countryside to take the frenzied oath that would admit them into the Mau Mau. At that time, the role played from me by Captain Cheetah had been performed by a man in his late twenties, widely known among the Kikuyus as Dedan Kimathi. He was the man who carved his niche in history as a sadistic mass-murderer under the nick-name of “General Leopard.”
Kimathi was the fighting leader of the Mau Maus, which constituted about 70 percent of the Kikuyu tribe--and he therefore controlled over a million people. When the British government finally cracked down on this secret organization, Kimathi and at least 15,000 faithful followers fled into the great forests of the Aberdare Mountains near Mount Kenya, and for over four years defied the combined forces of the British.
To better understand the unusual and barbaric nature of the Mau Mau, I had interviewed the political leader of the Kikuyu tribe, Jomo Kenyatta. Kenyatta is currently serving as Kenya’s Minister of State for Constitutional Affairs, and once Kenya achieves its independence next year, he is likely to become the Prime Minister, or possibly even the President. [Jane was exactly right; in 1963 he became Prime Minister and in 1964, President.]
I had met him at a political meeting where he had addressed a crowd of 10,000 Kikuyus and warned them many times during his speech to stop taking oaths and to allow the white settlers to live in peace. He himself had served nine years in prison for organizing the Mau Mau, though he had been arrested long before the Mau Mau terrorism had reached its gory apex.
Kenyatta invited me to his office in Nairobi after the rally, where he offered to answer any of my questions. As he sat behind his desk, dressed in an expensive silk suit, gold watch, large stone rings on each hand, and a gleaming white, stiffly starched shirt, I found it hard to picture him as a man once associated with the deadly, loin-clothed jungle fighters. He stared at me through penetrating eyes, his broad nostrils widening as he inhaled. “While I believe Africa is for the Africans,” he said, “my people, the Kikuyus, are willing to cooperate with all foreigners who choose to remain in Kenya and live under our native African government, once we have uhuru.”
I asked him to explain, briefly, those tribal customs which are considered unusual. Among other things, he explained that the “Kikuyu law of marriage provides that a man may have as many wives as he can support,” and the larger one’s family, the better. In order to avoid prostitution, all women must be married in their teens.
To protect young women from having premarital relations, the tribal custom is to circumcise all female offspring in a special ritual steeped in ceremony. This lessens young women’s sexual excitement, although it removes none of their basic passions. As a result, there are few cases of illegitimacy, nor are the Kikuyus plagued by juvenile delinquency, extra-marital relations, or any other “sins of the flesh.”
Kenyatta referred me to his now famous book, published last year, titled “Facing Mount Kenya.” [This book was actually published in 1938. Jane may have been looking at a new edition.] In this, he pointed out some of the tribe’s strange sexual customs--how love acts may be conducted only in natural, normal fashion; and how, in contrast, young boys are “groomed” for future sexual activities through instruction and contests in self gratification.
“There are other rituals performed among the Kikuyus,” Kenyatta added, “which are considered strange by other races. For instance, that of Ngweko, which allows young boys to sleep with girls in an unclothed condition, but which prohibits them from any sexual act.”
Listening to Kenyatta’s concise description of his people, I realized that the Kikuyus are not as wild and uncontrollable as one would judge from Mau Mau examples. They live under strict moral codes and customs--codes which, however, are different and rather shocking compared to civilized societies. It was unfortunate that while Kenyatta was imprisoned, control of the Kikuyus was assumed by despicable characters who believed in blood and violence. Among them were gang leaders like Stanley Mathenge, Gitonga Gachingo, and Elijah Kihara. But the most clever, cruel and beastly of the lot was--of course--the top man, Dedan Kimathi, alias “General Leopard.” He was personally responsible for thousands of deaths, not only among white settlers, but among his own tribesmen as well.
* * *
The British Criminal Investigation Department in Kenya had, for years, been aware of the Mau Mau and its spectacular growth, and had taken steps to break up the ever-growing band of butchers. Their first move occurred in October, 1952, shortly after the murder of Kikuyu Chief Waruhiu, who was ambushed and shot while riding in a car seven miles from Nairobi. The Chief was given an impressive gangland send-off. His funeral was attended by thousands of Kikuyus, many of them Mau Mau, and Jomo Kenyatta. Waruhiu had been a chief for 30 years and sternly condemned Mau Mau. His murder triggered off renewed acts of violence against Africans opposed to the secret organization. Wisely, the British authorities proclaimed a state of emergency and flew in a battalion of Lancashire Fusiliers to support troops already in Kenya. Over a hundred prominent Africans were arrested--among them, Jomo Kenyatta, President of the Kenya African National Union.
At the time of Kenyatta’s arrest, Dedan Kimathi also fell into the police net. He was handcuffed and taken to the detention camp at Ihururu. Fortunately for Kimathi, one African guard was a Mau Mau supporter, and in exchange for Kimathi’s bicycle, he unlocked the cell door. Kimathi left immediately for the Aberdares, the great Rain Forest near Mount Kenya.
At the time of his escape, Kimathi was 32 years old and his qualities of leadership were untested. In his youth, however, he had been trained in a mission school to read and write English. He was also an avid reader of paperback cowboy thrillers. He had read the Bible many times and was able to quote it verbatim on various occasions. Kimathi was an illegitimate child born October 31, 1920 in a mud and wattle hut on the out skirts of Nyeri, the most northerly of all Kikuyu districts and the one lying closest to the Aberdare Forest.
* * *
When Limathi fled into the vast Aberdare Forest, thousands of Mau Maus, ready for action and bloodshed, followed him. Kenya police officials estimate that 12,000 of his followers were there, at one time or another, in the bamboo forest, although Mau Maus said it was closer to 30,000.
As recruits poured into the woods, Kimathi assigned them to gangs and appointed leaders. Frequently, he re-grouped his forces into military companies and regiments and gave his leaders military titles among the lines of British army regulations.
During the first few months, the Mau Maus in the woods had an easy life. Each day, trucks loaded with food, guns, and ammunition rolled out of Nairobi for secret destinations along the edges of the Aberdare Forest. Nightly forays were made, and herds of stolen cattle were brought back for food.
Then Royal Air Force planes were called in. They swooped low over the trees and peppered the area with bombs. Hundreds of May Mau fell under the rain of explosions, but the bombing did not limit deaths to tribesmen. The bursts had also wounded and killed thousands of animals, from antelopes to elephants. The bombings had to be called off, but--partly because of the bombings and partly because it was convenient to Kimathi’s plans--raids against white settlers increased, and in February, 1953, the first mass mutilation-murders began.
One settler told me how he was awakened in the night by a scream. He leaped out of bed, grabbing his Weatherby rifle, and threw open the door. One of his plantation workers, a member of the Luo tribe, was running toward the house. He never made it. As a knife thunked into his back, he pitched headlong into the doorstep. The settler stood entranced by the sight of his worker laying at his feet, the blood gushing around the edges of the blade. A volley of bullets splintering into the door awakened his senses, and he dropped to the floor and put his rifle into action. He saw only dark shadows moving in the fields, but he poured round after round in their direction. From the natives’ quarters, he heard more cries of anguish as the Mau Mau made mincemeat of his helpers. His wife and his young son were crawling on the floor behind him, choked in fear.
Then a thumping of feet along the side of the house told him that a Mau Mau was attacking on his left. He scrambled to his knees and backed into the house, shutting the door just as a dark hand brought a blade into view. He fired a quick succession of shots into the closed door and heard a groan and thump as the warrior crumpled on the step.
His wife had hugged him around the waist, and his son was crying when he ordered them under the bed. Windows were shattering from bullets, and walls were absorbing shots with small explosions of wood.
Then, as suddenly as the fighting had begun, it stopped. Silence. Then a few moans from outside. He crawled up to the door and opened it a crack, peering out into the darkness. The shapes were moving away.
Others were not quite so lucky. There were plantations completely destroyed by the terrorists, men and children shot and dismembered, women raped and mutilated, stock killed, buildings burned.
The British government began an all-out campaign against the Mau Mau to be directed particularly against Kimathi, the mass executioner who was, at this time, considered by his followers an invincible god. The C.I.D., in 1953, devised a plan to break the power of the Mau Mau. Troops were sent into the area, but achieved little success. Meanwhile, raids continued, and the death toll mounted.
Kimathi had become imbued with an insatiable lust to kill. For every settler murdered during this period, a hundred of his own men were wantonly slaughtered if they disagreed with him or failed to back his movement. Young Kikuyu girls were captured in their villages and brought back for his pleasure. At one time, he had a harem of over 100 women, but during the four years he remained in hiding, he strangled all except one: Wanjiru, a 20-year-old, sloe-eyed, dusky beauty who adapted herself easily to a jungle existence.
It was at this point that “Operation Anvil” was put into effect by the British Constabulary. Late one night in August, 1954, an army of police surrounded Nairobi, and over 80,000 Kikuyus were arrested, taken out of the city, and detained in isolated areas for five years. This mass arrest had an immediate effect upon Kimathi and his followers. Now that he had lost contact with his sympathizers, supplies were cut off, and the Mau Mau were forced to depend on the jungle for sustenance. Their tattered clothes were discarded, and they began wearing skins of wild animals. Kimathi gave his top leaders forest names such a “General Lion,” “Colonel Cheetah,” “Captain Zebra,” and so on. Kimathi, himself, wore a garment of leopard skin and became known as “General Leopard.” With cordons of troops surrounding the area, food raids were halted, and because fires would reveal their location, they ate the raw flesh of beasts. Their hair grew long and matted and was plaited to facilitate the catching of lice and other vermin with which they became infested. To conserve ammunition, they depended on their pangas, long knives, as weapons of attack.
It was not long before the weak surrendered to the British. They were quickly taken to Nairobi, where they were rehabilitated and sent back into the forest as “pseudo gangs” for the purpose of killing or capturing Mau Mau.
The “pseudo gang” movement caught fire and brought consternation into the hearts of Kimathi’s followers. It quickly reached the point where those hiding in the woods never knew whether or not their companions were Mau Mau or paid agents of the British. Kimathi was infuriated that his once-faithful, oath-taking subjects had surrendered--and then had returned to hunt him down. He soon hated and suspected everyone.
Kimathi’s end was inevitable. On October 21, 1956, while raiding a nearby plantation for food, he was trapped by the Constabulary and severely wounded. He was quickly tried, found guilty, and hanged.
Kimathi was dead! And with him died the immediate threat of the Mau Mau. The thousands of prisoners were released and returned to their villages.
Strangely, while the Mau Mau lost the battle of the bamboo forest, the organization won the war for independence. During the past few months, Jomo Kenyatta received British assurances that Kenya would gain its freedom within the next year.
But what about the Mau Mau? Has this dreaded organization ceased to exist? Or will it be revitalized once Kenya becomes free? The many problems of an independent Kenya--such as resettlement plans, government organization, the varied peoples who live here with nothing in common, the question of who will run the government--may all be settled in blood, like another Congo. Perhaps, as Kenyatta promises, the Africans may work side-by-side with the Europeans and Asians of Kenya. Or maybe the vast coffee plantations and farms, developed by settlers, will be confiscated and given to Africans.
There are several clues to what may happen. Recently, the British released a long-held prisoner. His name is Warihiu Itote, but he is better known as one of the Mau Mau’s top military strategists, “General China.” He had once been sentenced to death, but was spared for writing letters to other Mau Mau leaders begging them to surrender. General China was next to the last of 77,000 Africans to be released. (Still in captivity is Karioki Chotara, credited with 17 murders).
Back in his home district, General China was given a hero’s welcome by 2000 dancing and singing Kikuyus. There, he made a statement: “This is no time to go back in the bush. This is the time to fight against illiteracy, to fight against poverty, to get good wages and employment. We want our land back. We can do all this is we are united under. . .Kanyatta.”
Still--in the forests north of Nairobi, where 60,000 Kikuyus are unemployed and landless, there is a new secret society called Kiama Kia Hunyu--“The Poor Ones.” They are taking oaths. About 200 members are drilling with home-made rifles.
I visited many Kikuyu villages, ate with the poor people in their small, circular mud-and-straw huts, and talked with them about the future of their country. All of them had one thing on their minds: uhuru-- and that word was repeated a thousand times.
With the scent of blood lingering in the air, hundreds of beautiful plantations are up for sale, with no takers--at any price.
Today, many believe that all Kikuyus look to Jomo Kenyatta for guidance and leadership, and they say that he holds the future of Kenya in the palm of his hand. They say that, for as long as Kenyatta wishes, the Mau Mau will remain only a bad memory of a not-so-distant past.
On the other hand, there are those who believe Kenyatta is merely an imposing figurehead without the power of resolving even the fierce conflicts within his own political party--the Kenya African National Union--KANU--much less those of all Kenya. More and more, it is becoming clear that the rift is deepening between KANU and the ex-Mau Mau terrorists who belong to the “Land Freedom Army” or the KANU Young Wing, which hold kangaroo courts and murders and tortures fellow Africans for revenge or extortion.
In other words, anything can happen. I, for one, am glad I left.
From Modern Man, November 1962, pp. 8-10, 54-57.
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