The Obamas Page 16

  In Nyanza province, the more politicized Luo convened a secret meeting to decide how they should protest against direct governance. The main protagonists were the young “mission boys”—the first generation of Luo boys who had been educated by the missionaries. The mission boys decided to organize a strike and a boycott of classes at Maseno school—the top mission school outside of Kisumu (and later the alma mater of President Obama’s father). The missionaries at Maseno were generally sympathetic to the principles of the boycott, having also lost some of their autonomy under the new colonial regulations. Next, Luo leaders organized a public meeting to call for the Kenya protectorate to become a colony. Nine thousand people attended the meeting on December 23, 1921, at Luanda in Gem (northwest of Kisumu)—a remarkable number at a time when the ordinary African had no access to the telegraph, telephones, or any mechanized transport. The main demand of the meeting was local autonomy for the Luo under an elected president—a ker. Following the lead of Harry Thuku, the people also voted to form a new association. The Young Kavirondo Association was the first attempt to mobilize the people of Nyanza into a militant political force. It was not particularly long lived: in 1923, in order to avoid being banned by the British, the Young Kavirondo Association rewrote its constitution and changed its name to the Kavirondo Taxpayers’ Welfare Association. Nevertheless, the Young Kavirondo Association was one of the first African-led political movements in Kenya, and not only did it challenge British colonial rule, but it also laid the foundation for Luo tribal politics in an independent Kenya more than forty years later.

  Hussein Onyango, however, was not really interested in politics. By the mid-1920s he was an accomplished and successful cook, working for the British in Nairobi and the Rift Valley. Onyango had come to admire the British, especially their discipline and organization. In this respect, Onyango was not alone among the Luo. The Kikuyu had lost huge areas of their land to the white farmers and been forced onto tribal reserves with poor farming land, but the Luo were spared such draconian measures. It suited the British to “divide and rule” the different Kenyan tribes, and many Luo found well-paid jobs working for white families or for the colonial administration. Recognizing that the Luo had a reputation for intelligence (something the Luo put down to their high-protein diet of fish and meat), the British had encouraged the education of the young mission boys, hoping they would form the foundation of an Africanized administration in East Africa.

  By African standards, Onyango prospered; the good money he was earning in Nairobi allowed him to acquire more cattle back in Kendu Bay, and his hut was always spotlessly clean. But his family and neighbors in Kendu Bay still thought he was odd, for Onyango lived like a white man, even when he was home in Luoland. He ate at a wooden table with a knife and fork, and he wore European clothes, which were always scrupulously neat and tidy. He insisted that people take off their shoes and wash their feet before entering. Inevitably, Onyango became the focus of village gossip, especially as he had still not married. According to President Obama’s memoir, Onyango married three women. However, several elders in Kendu Bay indicated that the reality was much more complicated than that. Charles Oluoch had his own theory about his uncle’s complex relationships with women:

  Onyango was his own man, and he knew how to find women. He had so many friends, and if they liked him, they would say, “I have a sister here.…” He used to travel a lot—Onyango had the spirit of adventure. [And] it took him time to settle, to have his own family, whilst his other brothers overtook him [with a family] when they were younger.

  One of his brothers-in-law, Abdo Omar Okech, also knew all about Onyango’s reputation as a ladies’ man, and he explained why he thought Onyango was so successful with women:

  Onyango was a medicine man and he knew a lot about herbs which could cure people. Because of this, many women liked him.

  Most of these ladies were not married, but when they looked at him, I think because of his build, they just loved him. They just fell for him. He must have been a very attractive man because of all these women. A woman would come and stay with him for a month or two, then he would kick them out and take another one.

  John Ndalo, who lived close to Onyango’s compound in Kendu Bay, recalled the women he finally married:

  There was a lady from Kawango in Mumias [in central Nyanza], and he even took cattle to Mumias and paid a bride price. Then there was Halima, and then Sofia Odera from Karungu, beyond Homa Bay in South Nyanza. Then Habiba Akumu, then Sarah.

  Onyango was already up to his Islamic limit of five wives, and they were only the ones he had actually married, but John Ndalo tried to clarify the situation:

  In Africa, if you don’t have a child with your wife, it is very easy to marry another one. In our culture, we only recognize somebody as your wife if you take the cattle. But we cannot rule out if there were some who were “good friends,” because you can stay with them for one or two years, but we do not recognize them [as a wife], because you have not taken the cattle.

  Nobody can remember the name of Onyango’s first wife from Kawango, but they do remember that he paid her family twenty head of cattle as a bride-price. When she did not produce a child, Onyango divorced her, but out of pride he never went back for his cows, which was unusual for a Luo.

  Onyango had very high standards of cleanliness and behavior, and he also had a violent temper. Even by the harsh standards of Luo husbands in those days, Onyango was cruel toward his women. John Ndalo said, “Onyango loved to welcome visitors. If his women did not behave well in front of them, then he would beat them there, right in front of the visitors. He would not wait.”

  By the late 1920s, Onyango found a respectful and gentle woman who tolerated his outbursts and beatings. Halima came from Ugenya, a region in central Nyanza, north of Siaya, and he met her when he was working for a white man in the area. Onyango was now in his early thirties, and like any Luo husband in that situation, he looked forward to his new wife producing a son and heir quickly. Unfortunately, their union was not blessed with children. Clearly Onyango was not infertile, as he went on to father eight children with his later wives, but a married man without children soon becomes a subject of gossip in Kenya.

  Sarah Obama tells the story of Onyango visiting a Nairobi dance hall one night, whereupon he was confronted by a drunk: “Onyango, you are already an older man [he was in his mid-thirties at the time]. You have cattle, and you have a wife, and yet you have no children. Tell me, is something the matter between your legs?”21 Onyango was furious, but the cruel words found their mark, and he returned home to Kendu Bay determined to find another wife who could give him children.

  So Onyango married again, this time a young girl called Sofia Odera from Homa Bay, a fishing village about twelve miles west of Kendu Bay. John Ndalo recalls that Onyango paid fifteen head of cattle this time as the bride-price, but when Sofia and Onyango parted company, childless, Onyango again was too proud to reclaim his cows.

  Onyango’s father, Obama, died around 1930. Although they had been estranged when Onyango was young, father and son had since reconciled and Obama had contributed cattle to Onyango’s bride-prices. A successful, traditional Luo tribesman, Obama left five widows—Nyaoke (the mother of Onyango and great-grandmother to the president), Auma, Mwanda, Odera, and Augo. Between them they bore him eight sons and several daughters. However after his death, Obama’s hut was not destroyed in the Luo tradition; instead, his wives continued to live there, although they were inherited by other men.

  In the small village of Kanyadhiang I met a close relative of Onyango called Laban Opiyo. His father’s sister was Nyaoke, Obama’s first wife, making Laban a first cousin to Onyango and great-uncle to President Obama. A small, thin, frail man who has spent his whole life working in the sun, Laban looked every one of his eighty-seven years. Born in 1922, Laban was only about eight when Onyango’s father died, but he still remembers the event clearly:

  I knew him very well. Obama was a tall man, a hu
ge man, and well built. He married three girls just from our village here. There was Nyaoke and Mwanda, and then Auma, all from the same clan. But Nyaoke and Auma were real sisters. He kept working until he was very old—he loved farming. He didn’t go to school. When he was an old man, he went to his simba, his hut, to attend to his garden, and he sat there on a small stool, gardening. I know he was very, very old when he died.

  Onyango was in Nairobi [at the time]. He brought a gun—a rifle. He said that by 9 p.m., everyone had to be at his father’s home. When he reached the compound, he fired into the air. At the first gunshot, everybody ran into the houses because they had never heard anything like this before. I counted six gunshots.… I kept asking him, “What is this that is sending fire into heaven?” And we were very much afraid, because we had never heard a gun before, never. That is one thing that I can really remember about Hussein Onyango. He used that gun to send off his father in a dignified way.

  Obama had a traditional burial. Before he died, he slaughtered his biggest bull and its skin was used as his shroud. He was buried the next day—his body could not be preserved like today. He was probably in his seventies when he died. When they buried him, they had a ceremony called tero buru—it is “taking the dust”—to scare away the dead spirits. They used to run here and there, sing songs and had mock fights. They also slaughtered a big cockerel.

  By 1926, twenty-two thousand Africans in the protectorate were working in domestic service—about one in every seven gainfully employed men.22 In an attempt to monitor this sector, the colonial authorities introduced a system of worker registration after the Great War, issuing to Onyango and others like him a small red book. On its cover was the title DOMESTIC SERVANT’S POCKET REGISTER, followed in smaller type by: ISSUED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE REGISTRATION OF DOMESTIC SERVANT’S ORDINANCE, 1928, COLONY AND PROTECTORATE OF KENYA. During his first visit to Kenya in 1987, Barack Obama junior’s half sister Auma showed him Onyango’s registration document, which Sarah keeps in her hut in K’ogelo.23 Onyango’s booklet is faded now and the spine is broken, but the contents provide a fascinating glimpse of Onyango’s life at the time.

  Inside the cover are Onyango’s two thumbprints—a standard identification mark at the time, even though Onyango could sign his own name as well as read and write English proficiently. The introduction inside the document explains its purpose:

  The object of this Ordinance is to provide every person employed in a domestic capacity with a record of such employment, and to safeguard his or her interests as well as to protect employers against the employment of persons who have rendered themselves unsuitable for such work.

  The term servant was defined as “cook, house servant, waiter, butler, nurse, valet, bar boy, footman, or chauffeur, or washermen.”

  The British took their official documents very seriously, and anyone found defacing the booklet was “liable to a fine not exceeding one hundred shillings or imprisonment not exceeding six months or both.” The fine was more than a month’s earnings for a Kenyan house servant.

  Further into the book are Onyango’s full registration details:

  Name Hussein Onyango

  Native Registration Ordnance No. RWL A NBI 0976717

  Race or Tribe Ja’Luo

  Usual Place of Residence When Not Employed Kisumu

  Sex M

  Age 35

  Height and Build 6′0″ Medium

  Complexion Dark

  Nose Flat

  Mouth Large

  Hair Curly

  Teeth Six Missing

  Scars, Tribal Marks, or Other Peculiarities None

  The back of the book is reserved for notes, mainly references from previous employers, which explains why the authorities took any defacement or alteration of the booklet so seriously. From the citations, Onyango was clearly highly respected by most of his white employers; Captain C. Harford, who gives his address as Government House in Nairobi, wrote that Onyango “performed his duties as personal boy with admirable diligence.” Mr. A. G. Dickson noted that “he can read and write English and follows any recipes … apart from other things his pastries are excellent.” Dr. H. H. Sherry was equally flattering and commented that Onyango “is a capable cook but the job is not big enough for him.”

  However, Onyango was not always the model employee, and a certain Mr. Arthur Cole of the East Africa Survey Group noted that after a week on the job, Onyango was “found to be unsuitable and certainly not worth 60 shillings per month.” (Introduced in 1921, the East African shilling was equivalent to one shilling sterling; Onyango’s monthly wage would now be worth about $220, much the same as what a Kenyan would earn in a similar position today.) The registration book also documents the tenuous nature and short term of Onyango’s employment during this period. Mr. Dickson no longer required Onyango’s services because, he wrote: “I am no longer on Safari.” Nor is it likely that Onyango would have stayed with Arthur Cole for much longer either, after such a poor evaluation.

  By 1933, Onyango was a wealthy man by Luo standards, but still he had no children. That year he was back in Kendu Bay on one of his regular visits when he saw a beautiful young girl walking along the road to market. She would eventually become the paternal grandmother of the president of the United States of America, and the circumstances surrounding their meeting and elopement were extraordinary.

  Akumu was from the village of Simbi Kolonde, just a short distance outside Kendu Bay. She was tall, young, and striking, and Onyango was instantly smitten. Akumu’s youngest daughter, Auma (aunt to President Obama), explained how they met: “My mother was taking fish into the market and she was carrying one of the traditional baskets [on her head]. And when my father saw my mother, she was very beautiful. My father forced my mother to leave the fish and then grabbed her and put her into the car and sped off.”

  Akumu’s family claim that she was abducted in broad daylight. Nobody knew where Onyango had hidden the young girl, and her family was distraught by his foolish and impulsive action. Auma continued the story:

  My father had taken my mother forcefully, and he was cautioned by the local leadership … he was questioned and they arrested him.

  Now this is what my father said: “I can’t leave this woman because I love her and I did not rape her. I want her and I love her and I will pay everything that the people want.” My father went and untied thirty-five cattle just to come and pay for this girl … because he loved her so much.

  Having paid this, the authorities allowed him to take Akumu back to Nairobi. At first, my mother did not like my father, because she had not known him at all. This was a forceful marriage. But now, having taken her, he showed her a lot of respect and love, then she loved him and she agreed to stay with Onyango.

  Onyango was nearly forty and Akumu was only sixteen or seventeen years old, but such an age difference was not unusual in African marriages at the time. (When Onyango married for the fifth time several years later, Sarah too was in her teens.) Akumu came from a Christian family—indeed, she was the only Christian woman Onyango ever married—but Hussein Onyango insisted that she convert to Islam, and she took the Muslim name Habiba. Their union quickly brought the long-desired result of a child for Onyango, and Sarah Nyaoke was born in 1934, followed by Barack senior (father to the president) two years later. Their third child, Hawa Auma, was born in 1942, and a fourth child, Rashidi, was born in 1944; Rashidi died from a fever when he was about ten. All of Hussein Onyango’s children were raised as Muslims.

  In a pattern of married life that is still common in Kenya even today, Onyango continued to work in Nairobi as a cook while Akumu and her young children lived more than two hundred miles away in Kendu Bay. But after several years of married life, passion began to wane and Akumu and Onyango began having heated arguments. By all accounts the president’s grandmother was a strong and determined woman, and she was not prepared to tolerate what she saw as Onyango’s unrealistic expectations of discipline and cleanliness around the compound.r />
  As the marriage began to fade, Onyango took a fifth wife. Sarah Ogwel was born into a Muslim family in Kendu Bay in 1922, and she told me that she married in 1941, when Onyango was forty-six. Her youngest brother, Abdo Omar Okech, is seventy-six and he still lives in the Muslim quarter of Kendu Bay, a stone’s throw from where he was born. He explained that his father, Omar Okech, had been a good friend of Onyango’s for years:

  At that time I was only a small kid, but I overheard that my sister Sarah was to be given to Hussein. They were very good friends and my father said, “Will you marry my daughter?” According to our African customs, Sarah could not go against my father’s will.

  It is possible that she would even have been given freely, but because Onyango loved my father, Hussein gave many cows to my family for her bride price.

  Sarah remained married to Onyango for more years than all his other wives combined, and her brother explained Sarah’s secret:

  The difference between Mama Sarah and these other women was that Sarah would not talk back to him. He loved Sarah because whatever he said, Sarah complied.

  Sarah and Onyango married after Onyango returned from a brief spell of service in the King’s African Rifles during the Second World War, and they spent their first years of married life living together in Nairobi, while Akumu tended the farm back in Kendu Bay and brought up her young children.