An enthusiastic debater who loved to show his face in the August House, Aden Duale skipped Bunge this week. Going by his near-perfect attendance record, his loud absence wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.
Pundits have pegged is truancy on the sense that he might still be nursing a jarred heart following his sacking almost a fortnight ago. Moving on is no joke. From his exit speech, he didn’t look like one to sob over losses and his plea for consideration in future House debate hinted that Parliament hadn’t heard the last of his hoarse voice.But as the Swahili say, “mazoea yana taabu.”
He had grown used to life on the high-table and accepting a new reality is harder than most may care to admit. He now has no place at any table, having lost all his committee slots when the axe fell on him, freeing him from the trappings of power.
Not even this past as ‘bellicose-in-chief’ for the ruling party could spare him an ounce of mercy. And not the intense last-minute lobbying that saw him marshal politicos from his North Eastern backyard.
For his troubles, he earned a trip back to the backbench. Even the man whose self-esteem he had once tried to clip with the infamous quip, “hii pesa si ya mama yako,” now enjoys more favour than he does.As he will soon learn, much has changed in the backbench since he was last there. It’s a cold and lonely place.
The cramped benches of old were replaced with colossal seats which put an end to huddling and with it the cosy warmth of company. It’s lonelier with the social-distancing guidelines in place.
Power had become like his shadow and for money , he felt it would always keep him company. So no one would begrudge for mourning. Anyone in his place would have played ‘dictator’ too.
Imagine losing a seat you have warmed for close to a decade and worse, losing it to Amos Kimunya, a man Minority Whip Junet Mohamed thinks should be in retirement. Perhaps the Garissa Township lawmaker thought about this prospect, and he must have winced at the ghastly sight of oldie Kimunya stealing his spotlight.