Historically I think we are back to 1988 after Queue voting.
During that election Moi symbolically got rid of the bothersome opposition which he called dissidents sympathizers. The real dissidents were rotting in jail. It was a blood bath where winners were declared losers and losers winners.
The GSU were poured across the country and beat the hell out of anybody who questioned "Returning Officers" ( District Commissioners). Kibaki escaped being rigged out at the last second when he called Moi directly from his car (
they had started a funny mobile network reserved for the big cats- huge things the size of Francis Polisi Lotodo's 1 million dollar South African made coffin).
The Returning Officer - I repeat DC - came to listen to the President (there goes a free election) and saluted the air then went to read the new results of the mlolongo. Everybody had lined up behind Kibaki in all the centres. He got the largest number of votes outside Embakasi. But that did not look "good". So the DC reduced the number upped those of the non visible "opponent" and speaking to VOK, the DC - Keholo Muhalule - congratulated Kibaki for scraping through with a whisker. It was a tough fight he said. He denied - Nakanusha - categorically - (which VOK translated as katakata) - that the government rigged in Kibaki. He kanushad those madais
I was a young ambitious man learning multiple languages. I thought perhaps I had missed the english version.
The so called sympathisers now went to real work. On a sponsored foreign trip (my first having won something in school) we received a leading dissident. Someone in the group leaked the information and I had my first instance of being interviewed by the Special Branch. They trusted my opinion. Needless to say a dozen parents had camped at our home coaching me on what to say.
I recall saying something like the man came on us unexpectedly and everybody ran away once they knew who he was. I went through the story again the last time for a tape which I guess serenaded his excellency to sleep one evening. I must have said something like President Daniel Arap Moi personally paid for our trip. How can we betray him. I record that as one of my earliest auto-dissembling moments.
By 1990 I think Moi was searching the width and breadth of the country for an enemy but found none. He continued to cannibalize his own people. I heard when chicken can't get food from outside the cage, they turn on the asses of each other finally cornering one and eating out the insides. The poor thing is usually condemned. Whether rescued, or left to be finished off by the other hens, it will still die. Ouko went. It was more like I mentioned with chicken: The owner picks out one to slaughter. Read Machiavelli. Some lecturer used to explain this very well. Was it Mukaru Ng'ang'a? He went in to exile.
By 1991, the coca cola bottle had been shaken a minute too long. The soda started escaping.
Like all dictatorships, they respond with maximum force. The closest one gets to a nuclear bomb being used against a sick scorpion! Moi brought out his shining armor. And it was indeed shining. He had gone shopping and bought proper riot gear. You see the killings like those in Kisumu cannot be sustained by any government - even Uthamaki. Trust me - I know. Those greedy friends from the West who Moji discovered a long time ago receive BRIBES - they hate photos of a him and dictator who is killing people. They hate them because their media and opponents love them. Bokassa's photo with Valery Giscard d'estaing won Mitterrand a 14 year stint at Champs Elysee!
Just like Giscard, they like to arrange for the problem to go away. Most of the time they are too late.
Moi soon found out that. Even Bush would not meet him. Thatcher had left office and Major still wanted more time at Number 10. The world had become weary of Moi. The IMF cut him lose and sent a To-Do List.
By December 1991 He had thrown in the towel and allowed not just the dissident sympathizers but the dissidents freedom to associate.