From Jomo to Uhuru, Rao’s Nine Lives
Like Joe Wanjui and Manu Chandaria, about whom I have written recently, I got to know Sharad Rao through Rotary. But having recently read his autobiography, From Jomo to Uhuru, Rao’s Nine Lives – Reminiscences of the Power, Courage and Intrigues that Shaped Kenya’s Post-Colonial History, I now know him very much better.
Being with Rao one appreciates his integrity and frankness, calling a spade a spade, plus his calmness and clarity of thinking, his wonderful memory and his gentle humour – such powerful contributors to his extraordinary legal career. All this is so clearly reflected in his memoir, a follow up to his earlier book, Indian Dukawallas – Their Contribution to the Political and Economic Development of Kenya, which was published in 2016.
His autobiography was launched in June of this year, and in it Rao takes us from his origins through his education and his legal life to the community projects that now occupy his time in his late eighties. Two themes within the book stood out for me: the racism of the colonialists vis-à-vis both Asians and Africans, and what it takes for judges to perform honourably.
Let me start with the racism, and I can’t resist sharing with you this awful quote in the book from Charles Eliot, the colonial administrator who initiated the policy of white supremacy here: “The average Englishman tolerates a black man who admits his inferiority, and even those who show a good fight and give in, but he cannot tolerate dark colour combined with an intelligence in any way equal to his own.”
Rao also quotes Colonel Grogan as having proclaimed “We Europeans have to go on ruling this country and rule it with iron discipline.” Don’t mention Grogan in my house, as my wife Evelyn Mungai’s great grandmother Wanjiru had her land where the Norfolk Hotel now stands grabbed by this awful fellow.
Prejudice against Asians continued after Kenya became decolonised, and he tells us numerous stories of how he and others became victims of such exclusion.
Let me now turn to the second theme that struck me. In a chapter on his chairmanship of the Judges and Magistrates Vetting Board in 2011 we learn so much about what it takes to be a high performing judge. For as he and his colleagues sat in judgement on the extent to which the behaviour of the judges was consistent with the recently passed 2010 Constitution, they had to reflect deeply on who should qualify to continue serving on the bench and who should step down.
Their purpose, he writes, was “to remove the taint of the judiciary as being corrupt, unduly favourable to those in power, obsessed with technicalities, incapable of dealing with cases with requisite promptness, and generally unable or unwilling to administer justice in an appropriate manner.” He writes about what good and bad behaviour entails, and it occurred to me that the best way of summing it all up would be to say they must be highly emotionally intelligent.
Among Rao’s many wonderfully narrated stories, I want to pick out the one in 1974 where President Kenyatta announced that from then on Presidents of all societies, associations and clubs should be called Chairman and not President – as Kenya had only one President, himself. This happened shortly before Rao was due to visit China, and he told then Attorney General Charles Njonjo that Chairman Mao would take offence if he also called himself Chairman. He was given exemption, so for the two weeks he was in China Kenya had two Presidents. A good example of Rao’s easy humour.
For many years thereafter the edict was adhered to, till one day at a Rotary Conference where Kijana Wamalwa was the Guest of Honour and I was giving the vote of thanks I asked him whether Rotary Chairmen could now again be allowed to be called Presidents, as they were everywhere else in the world. “What’s in a name?” he mumbled, and I said I took it this was an assent. From then on the title “President” was again no longer restricted to State House.
I read that in 1957, while studying law in London, Rao lived in Hampstead – which is where I grew up. What stage was I at in 1957? I had just entered my high school years. Oh well, now we are both in our third age, with so many ups and downs in our lives to look back on. I have yet to do so in the form of a book, but so good that Rao has.
