05/11/2025
Kisilu Mutua and Pio Gama Pinto
When Kisilu Mutua was finally buried in September 2023, the country did not even blink. Just a coffin, dry soil, and a few tired faces .
To understand Kisilu’s tragedy, you must go back to 1965 there lived Pio Gama Pinto, a fearless socialist who believed that freedom without food was a fraud and independence without equality was a colourful lie.
He had stood with Oginga Odinga when it was dangerous to do so, helped Mau Mau fighters when it was suicidal, and wrote too much. To Washington and London, Pinto was a red flag; to local politicians, he was a ticking bomb; and to State House, he was simply too clever for comfort.
On February 24, 1965 morning the truth was gunned down in Nairobi’s Lower Kabete. Pinto left home to drop his wife and daughter, came back, and parked at the driveway. His house help, Margaret Kabicho, heard someone greet him “Jambo bwana.” Three shots followed and Pinto slumped dead.
Within hours, detectives already had their man Kisilu Mutua, a mkokoteni pusher and vegetable vendor. The perfect fall guy. Cheap, voiceless, and dispensable.
Kisilu said he had been asked by a man called Sammy to “scare a certain Asian.” The police never found Sammy, the blue Fiat that carried the killers, or the motive behind the hit. The judge, frustrated, asked why the investigation stopped at the lowest level. You know truth usually travels on foot while lies arrive in choppers
Before the murder, the CIA had already written a secret report titled “Leftist Activity in Kenya.” It named Odinga as a Soviet sympathiser and Pinto as his “close associate.” The Americans feared Kenya was sliding left. The British feared losing influence. And some in government feared Pinto knew too much.
Even the U.S. ambassador, William Atwood, described Pinto as “Odinga’s number one braintruster… principal liaison with Communist embassies.” According to Atwood, Pinto’s death left Odinga confused, vulnerable, and surrounded by opportunists. “He missed Pinto’s counsel and blundered again and again.”
Some historians whispered Pinto had discovered a plot to overthrow Kenyatta. Others believed he was simply too powerful for comfort. Either way, somebody decided Kenya would be quieter without him.
During the trial, one of Pinto’s employees, Waweru Nganga, told the court that his boss had warned him days earlier to watch a man called Njenga someone he suspected had been paid to kill him, Kaggia, and Paul Ngei. Whether this Njenga was the same man who later assassinated Tom Mboya in 1969 remains one of history’s cruel coincidences.
But to understand Pinto’s courage, you must go even further back to the 1950s... Again.. He had been detained at Fort Jesus, then exiled to the lonely island of Takwa on Manda. Later, he was restricted in Kabarnet, where his wife Emma joined him. Their first daughter, Linda, was born in captivity; their second, Malusha, came after his release in 1959.
From a small office at Desai Memorial Hall, Pinto became the conscience of a young nation , writing petitions, raising funds for detainees, and daring to demand Kenyatta’s release. Alongside Makhan Singh, he built the foundation of Kenya’s leftist movement
So when Pinto was shot, Kenya didn’t just lose a man. It lost a mind . His death silenced the radical voice that questioned greed, corruption, and Western puppetry. And Kisilu Mutua became the sacrificial lamb that made it all look tidy.
He rotted in Kamiti and Naivasha for 36 years. Presidents came and went. Governments changed names. Nobody cared. When Justice John Mativo finally awarded him Sh2.5 million in compensation in 2017, the government appealed .
Kisilu died a bitter man. The killers were never found. The truth was never told. And the country moved on, just as it always does
But history remembers that one morning in 1965, a man who loved Kenya too much was shot dead, and another man who knew nothing about it was jailed for life.
Sometime innocence needs a lawyer, a helmet, and a little luck.
