The late Titus Adungosi (back row left) and his father Longinus Adungosi Oloo (front row right) in this undated family photo
Firebrand: Fire from the belly; the late Tito Addressing University Comrades
Not in person have ever met this second liberation icon
Our sprits mingle in purpose and zeal in the struggle for freedom
When Tito became joined the University, I was barely in school
When he took the leadership of SONU, I did not even know what school was
I witnessed the 1982 coup as a toddler, bullets whizzed over our roofs
The only thing I could do is to cling to my mother who was equally shaken
I was however conscious of mis-happenings in the country in later years
The radio would blare terms like ‘’msaliti, maandamano, mapinduzi’’
I could not quite understand but I was curious, as radio news, time was precious, I couldn’t ask
Later in High School and words like Koigi, Mwandawiro, Willy Mutunga and Anyona were mentioned
The mist cleared and the clarity dawned in me
I read more books, listened to radio more, and drew inspiration from conscious music
I have never looked back, the bug was so deep in my DNA and the spirit was soaked
At the University, I could not look back, the dice was cast
Inspiration came, from Wafula Buke, Mwandawiro, Suba Meshack Churchill, Kabando and others
I became one, a student leader in my early University years
My path was cut and paved with signs of self-determination, liberty and freedom
I clashed with despotic policies, hated authoritarianism
They tried to edge me out but I came back stronger and determined
I joined the national movement to free and Release Political Prisoners (RPP) from jail and mental slavery
The opportunity came; I knew I had to honor one hero, Tito
Nairobi through Bungoma then to Busia, I traversed and landed at Chakol village market
I walked and later landed at Adungosi shopping center, tired but elated
I met the family Matriarch, Marciliana Nyabole- the late Tito’s mother
She insisted on washing her hands first and then knelt down to shake my hand
I will never forget that brief moment when my mother………..
Tito’s mother Marciliana Nyabole, knelt as I pleaded with her not to
The Family gathered, the family spokesperson came, and I said what I wanted
‘’To see Tito’s grave’’
They were shocked but I was determined
I spent the night in the home, treated with honor and good food
We planned the ceremony and marked the dates when I would return with my RPP comrades
Few weeks later, we landed at Chakol with my comrades
We prayed, sang and danced, had wonderful meals and traditional ale and other potent drinks
Most important, we put a permanent marker on Tito’s grave
It happened that when Tito died on December 27, 1988, all were scared
No one wanted to even transport his body from Nairobi to Busia
This was fear instilled by the late Dictator Moi. Only one (blessed) person was brave enough
The burial took less than 30 minutes, with police being more than the mourners
It happened so fast that when I visited the family fast, they had even forgotten the exact burial site
A burial site right at the family compound forgotten- that’s what dictatorship does to people
May the spirit of Tito visit as many youth as possible?
TITO, the son of the later Mzee Longinus Adungosi Oloo, and the late Mama Marciliana Nyabole,
We shine your star, in your physical absence
I had forgotten- To thank me for the effort, the elders asked to my pluck any free flower in the compound
Please don’t tell this to Virginia.
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