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KENYA: Tribal Politics Killed My Friend

Posted August 3, 2017 from Kenya

Election violence in Kenya turned Abigayle’s life upside down in 2007. Nearly a decade later, with another election on the horizon, she asks: How much has really changed?

“I look on as people allow politicians to divide them along tribal lines and my spirit gets crushed within me.

“Sorry madam! That is the wrong name for this place. To live here, your name must be the right name.” I vividly remember the man holding a machete saying this to me as my friend Recca bled to death in my lap. I have never known a more intense feeling of anguish than watching my best friend die in my arms because of a name.

This happened in 2007, the year I got to vote for the first time. Since then, elections to me have spelled doom and disaster. I wish it were possible for me to celebrate when my country reaches an election period, but it is not. When it comes time to vote, the political climate changes drastically.

Kenya is preparing for a presidential election next week and once again, I am reminded of my tribe; sadly, I am also reminded of my loss.

Even as I share Recca’s story, the pain of my friend’s death is as raw as if it happened yesterday. I have battled with this pain for years, not sharing it with anyone because I felt I was to blame for her death. I have had to undergo counseling just to begin letting go of the self-blame. I hope that by sharing this story, my heart will finally heal.

I was 14 years old when I first met Recca at a church event. Unlike most friendships, ours started out with dislike. She had what I always wanted to have: She had an influential family, she could sing, and her family could afford to travel anywhere in the world. She disliked me because I was competition for her in church.

Our natural rivalry lasted for two years, until we went to the same high school and bonded over some toilet graffiti! As the school prefect, I was doing rounds one morning before classes when I caught her red-handed doing some graffiti on the toilet walls. I would have reported her if I had not decided to read the graffiti. It was one of the funniest things that I had seen that morning. When I read it, I just burst out laughing. She laughed with me and that marked the beginning of our friendship. I always think of our friendship as one that was “born in the toilet.”

Fast forward to six years later. It was December 2007, and we had just finished voting. All was peaceful and tranquil. Recca and I were in different universities, but we remained great friends. I had opened up my family to her and her family became my family.

As we were waiting for the tallying of the votes, we decided we may as well enjoy the scenery of our peaceful country over the Christmas holidays. Our destination of choice was Nakuru, a famous tourist attraction.

We set off the very next morning after voting. The journey was a safe one but for some reason, we could sense an uneasy tension in the air. I remember saying a little prayer with Recca. We prayed for our safe journey, and we prayed for God’s protection to be upon us.

Two days into our holiday, I received a call from my father. He sounded frantic. He told us to get into the next bus out of Nakuru and go back to Nairobi. This was the only place where we would be safe.Recca and I were not following what was going on in the news, so we were not aware that our country had suddenly turned messy. My father told us the wrong person had been declared president and the entire nation had woken up in total chaos.

One might pause to wonder, what criteria determines who is right and who is wrong in an election? The political climate was tense between supporters of the incumbent president and the opposition. It seemed to be a foregone conclusion that the opposition would win the vote this time around, based on the opposition candidate’s popularity at the time. On the other side, the president's tribe would have none of that.Conflict was intensifying between the opposition candidate’s tribe and the president's tribe.

Other tribes chose alliances too. There were a few tribes on the president’s side and around 40 tribes on the opposition’s side. During the campaign period, the country had become so divided on tribal lines that even multicultural marriages were breaking. At that time, I didn't see it as a very big deal. I assumed that Kenyans had always been peaceful people, hence peace would prevail once we got over the elections. How wrong that assumption was! Little did I know that my very first election I voted in would also turn out to be one of the most bitter experiences I ever faced. I didn't know that my people were ready to kill their neighbors because their choice didn't win.

As Recca and I hurriedly packed and checked out of the lodge where we were staying, we were both praying that this was all a nightmare that would end soon. We were lucky enough to get a bus that was about to leave for Nairobi and we quickly boarded. We had not even driven 300 meters when the car met with a barricade. All of a sudden, we were ambushed. We saw a lorry pull in front of us and then men wielding machetes ordered everyone out of the bus.

We were so scared as we watched the first man off of the bus show his identification card. Then one of the men rained down machete blows on him. The name on this man’s ID was enough information to tell the attackers that he was from the “wrong” tribe.

When it was our turn to get out of the bus, I showed my ID and I was pushed to one side. Recca came after me and was pushed to the opposite side. The men with machetes began cutting people right before my eyes, including my friend! I must have lost my senses then, because all I remember was the animal scream that escaped my mouth before I passed out.

When I came to, there was blood everywhere; I had no strength in me. I didn’t know if I was alive or dead. I didn’t know if this was real or a really bad nightmare. It took all my energy for me to crawl toward Recca. She was able to talk, but very faintly. She called out for me to help her.

I vaguely remember trying to lift her up. She was badly cut. All I could manage to do was sit down and place her head on my lap. In my mind I was screaming to myself to get up from this dream! But I wasn’t waking up. I had lost my phone; I think someone had stolen it when I passed out.

I held Recca for two whole hours, appealing to passersby to help me take my friend to the hospital—but none would even look at her. People walked past us in fear or they turned on me for being a friend to a person of her name. I watched her helplessly as life left her body and as she breathed her last.

The next thing I remember is finding myself in Nairobi. I don’t know how I got there. I don’t even know how my parents got to me. All that was real to me was that I had seen Recca get killed for having the wrong name! What would I tell her family? She had a name that was right for them. She had dreams that were now dead too. It is a pain so deep that I don’t think I can express it.

Who has the right to decide where a certain name can belong or not belong? Never in all the years since our childhood rivalry did it ever occur to me that Recca didn’t have the right name. Recca was not even Kenyan, but because the people who butchered her to death didn’t recognize her name, they decided she had to die.

It has been ten years since Recca was killed. To this very day, her killers have never been brought to justice!Kenyans never got clarity on who really won the 2007 elections. Many people lost their loved ones, their homes, women were raped―all because they were from the wrong tribe, in the wrong place, and at the wrong time!But for what?

As I look at the politicians’ campaigns during this election period, I still hear them spread nothing but hate. I hear them saying, this tribe shall not rule, it is time for another tribe to take over. I look on as people allow politicians to divide them along tribal lines and my spirit gets crushed within me.

These tribal politics cost me my friend. For how long will we allow politicians to divide us? For how long will it be my tribe versus your tribe? For how long will we vote for people because they have the “right” name!? I write today to appeal to my nation, Kenya, and to other nations as well. Tribal politics are costly.

Leadership is not by tribe, nor by color, nor tongue. Leadership is by substance. Anyone can lead if they have the substance to unite a people to work toward one goal.Leadership ought to be based on policy. It should be about what the leader will do for the nation, not what they will get from the nation. This is my appeal: We must rise up in Africa and say no to being divided because of our names, our tribes!

This year, as this election has approached, I have been posting campaigns on social media, urging the nation to shun tribal politics. I am speaking out so that maybe someone somewhere will not have to be killed or bullied because of his or her name. Just maybe it is possible for us to vote this year without considering tribe.

Is this too much to wish for?


This story was published as part of the World Pulse Story Awards program. We believe everyone has a story to share, and that the world will be a better place when women are heard. Share your story with us, and you could be our next Featured Storyteller!Learn more.

Comments 11

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Lily Habesha
Aug 04, 2017
Aug 04, 2017

Hi Dear,

I can't for get the war between Kikuyu and Luwo. That was so shameful. We call our selves civilized and we fought over clans and ...what is this?

I think this is a problem of the whole world, but we see it clearly in Africa. I talk to a woman who stayed 30 years in Europe, there are such kind of stories...

In my own place last year, same story happened.

Human beings are just same. The blood running inside our veins, bones, muscles...etc.

If i want blood transfusion, Asian, European or American...national can donate ...to save my life.

What in the name of God is going in some people mind and kill each other?

Color, race, nationality, tribe, language...we are just soil of the earth.

It makes me sick...such kind of story.


Tamarack Verrall
Aug 04, 2017
Aug 04, 2017

Dear Abigael,

What a horrific thing to have lived through. The story of how you and Recca overcame your early teenage wariness of each other is precious, as is the friendship you grew to share. To have  personally experienced such a tragic and shattering loss of your dear friend must have taken such strength to come through. There is so much of this senseless, heartless violence in our world. I truly believe and have new hopefulness that the leadership of women is necessary and we are bringing it forward with each others' support through World Pulse and other similar gatherings of determined and loving women. I celebrate your healing and your presence in this community we are in together.

With love in Sisterhood,


Evelyn Fonkem
Aug 06, 2017
Aug 06, 2017

Dear Abigael,

Your story is so emotional pathetic.I know what it means to loose a dear friend.The world is wicked and devilish.These things happen every day around the world and the perpetrators go unpunished.I can  imagined what you have gone through seeing your friend lost her life before your very own eyes.We pray for a world where Peace will be the watch word.

Thanks for sharing your story

Thanks for sharing your story

Julia O
Aug 07, 2017
Aug 07, 2017

Dear Abigayle,

Thank you for posting your courageous story. I remember reading about the violence in Kenya during that 2007 election and being so surprised at what was happening. Reading your first hand account is terrifying but also awe-inspiring. You somehow managed to survive and are now speaking out against tribal violence and doing your best to avoid that outcome in this election. Your words are wise and inspiring. Thank you for sharing and for letting others read about Recca and what a cool person she was. 

I wish you all the best,


Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017

Oh my God. I cant stop the tears.

Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017

Every five years in Kenya, an election is held and fear runs through each Kenyan because of uncertainty that comes with it. The events of 2007-2008 are very vivid in my mind and your story just made it more clear and real. It was a painful experience to the nation and its people .

More civic education has to be done by our very leaders to ensure that in future, Kenyans vote on issue based agendas and not on tribal and political party inclinations.

People like you and others who were directly affected should come out and let others know just how horrible these kind of violence are to the Nation.

Am glad you have spoken out and i commend you for your courage to share that painful journey as you appeal for peaceful elections and transition of Government.

May God grant you comfort and peace.

Jael Omunyangoli

Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017

All my encouragement sister in your campaign, I pray no one meets the fate that your friend had because of her name. 

Speak up! Cause change!

You can.


Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017

Abigael, I see your story in three parts, fun, no words to describe and sweet. The fun memories of how you started your friendship with Recca, oh that's priceless. Then the middle part of her unjustified killing and the rest of  people with "wrong names". I cant even imagine such evil, that is why I say no words to describe. I refuse to sit behind my desk right now and say I understand your pain and what you went through, it's unreal. But one thing for sure I can tell you is the events that took part in Kenya in 2007 was something we never thought was possible. I watched on the news with disbelief, just reminded me of the Rwandan genocide , bodies were lying on the ground like a norm, then there  was this particular man, small in stature. Being chased by this blood thirst man swinging the machete back and forth, the poor man couldn't outrun this monster. I saw  him being butchered mercilessly, the first blow went straight to his jugular vein, then head, and ribs. Poor man begged  for his life, but the vital organs were being ruined he collapsed, few minutes later he died. Well this is my own side of story watching on the news and I was highly disturbed and  appalled by the wickedness of men.  How  can a man  decide to have no value  for a life in the name of elections.

As I said before I see your story being sweet, at the end, because it takes so much courage to be able to pull through this traumatic events. I personally was shaken by merely watching on the news let alone you saw this, first hand. I am hoping that someday such stories like yours, will change the minds of men, we don't have to kill each other, for the sake of politics, "tribal wars must end". We just need well informed leaders, who will lead with no partiality. This political game must come to an end, we need leaders with a heart for people, not for their pockets.

 But at the moment we just have to  come to terms  that politics its a game, played by the few and those who play it are safe and are enjoying the game. The  uninformed masses  will err their discontentment  to the wrong people, this being a typical example. That is why we are hoping such stories will teach our children and youths so that such primitivism may be eradicated forever.  We need a new generation that will live beyond hate.

One Love!!


Neha Neha
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017


Sister Zeph
Oct 02, 2017
Oct 02, 2017

I am very sorry to hear about your big lose my dear, May your friend rest in peace and may peace prevails in our world

Apr 02, 2018
Apr 02, 2018

You are telling the truth .I nearly died that time round in Nairobi and I hope our political leadership is learning their lessons better