Conflating home, office recipe for public trauma

The picture of the former second lady emerging from Karen Hospital supporting her husband and egging him to avoid addressing the press will remain etched in people’s minds for a while. It was a sad scene of an emotionally tortured family led by the patriarch displaying to the public probably one of their lowest moments.

Since the constitution of the Kenya Kwanza administration, Dorcas Gachagua, popularised to the public by her husband as simply Pastor Dorcas has been the face of the fight for boys. Often dressed in her multicoloured flowing African fabric, her lay preacher credentials have been on display as she went about her business.

Twenty-four months ago, the pastor and the first lady cut the image of the nation’s powerful leading intercessors by ratcheting up public rallies and prayer sessions designed to lead to national repentance, healing and transformation. They even shipped in an expert preacher from the US to help with the mission.

Before they came to the office, their husbands had, in public rallies across the country, made passionate pleas asking the then regime not to harm their families. The impeached former Deputy President returned to this plea recently, now directed at his erstwhile partner and the government he served as the second-in-command for two years.

However, in the immediate post-election season, with victory fever sweeping the land, their patriarchs thrust the first families – wives and children – into the limelight. Some of the children have been leading high-profile lives, their lifestyles playing out in public. They have been pursuing causes and investments that have been noticeable.

In the days gone by, this nation hardly knew who the families of their leaders were. Most are too young to remember the first President and whether the inaugural first lady was a constant face in public. President Daniel Arap Moi led this nation with his presence everywhere for nearly a quarter of a century, but one would have hardly picked his family in public. The story of the separated family is now well told.

The Moi children lived mainly in private: one raced in cars, the other farmed and even joined politics. They emerged into public space as adult players. The third President’s spouse was widely known, but her children, primarily adults, remained private, only being sought out by the media. Ditto the fourth President.

The fourth first lady popularised the Beyond Zero campaign but often appeared like a reluctant public space actor. In public, she looked happiest running the marathon and finding her husband at the finishing line to give her an embrace. While the media actively sought out their children, the children themselves seemed to actively keep their lives private.

Public office should not automatically thrust one’s family into the limelight, depriving them of their privacy, whether in joy or pain. As a nation, we decided to make at least the first lady public by creating that office complete with funds to run it. One would hope that the country would avoid the temptation to create the office of the first children or grandchildren if the holder of the first office were old enough to have grandchildren.

The notion of a vindictive political environment has been with us even if there is no long history of political opponents deliberately targeting children during political duels. The Moi regime has been accused of subjecting the family of Raila Odinga, then and still a gadfly political operator, to some hostility.

During the early days of the current regime, there were reports of the former President’s son being exposed to what was framed as a potential break of the law. Families do not run for office; individuals do. Politicians should be mature enough to understand that and separate the two.

Ordinarily, family members must separate the office from home and not see it as an extension of home. While the officeholder is a public servant, the family members are not, and the public and the individual should separate the two. It is a lack of political hygiene to conflate the two. That will save the family face and public trauma.
— The writer is the Dean of Daystar
University’s School of Communication