On leaving Canada:
“ I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and examined myself carefully. The man that stared back at me wasn’t the same person who had arrived in Toronto as a frightened young political refugee from Africa almost 20 years earlier, on June 25, 1988."
On Raila's betrayal:
“The sealed suspension letter, marked ‘top secret’ was delivered to me 28 hours after the media started reporting its contents. Media reports alleged that I had been suspended for “misconduct”. Yet I have never been given any particulars of this supposed “misconduct”.
In other words, I had been accused, disgraced, judged and hanged without due process. And by Odinga, a man who had served eight years of detention without trial under Moi’s repressive regime. Odinga has always billed himself as an ‘agent of change’ and as a ‘progressive leader’ who believes in the rule of law and constitutionalism. Yet here he was publicly humiliating his most senior personal adviser and friend. A friend who had supported his ambitions to become president of Kenya, stood by him loyally at his darkest hour in December 2007 after President Kibaki had stolen his presidential victory and had worked tirelessly for" him ever since. Why had he treated me this way? What had I done? But even more importantly, had Odinga exposed himself as a man who couldn’t be trusted with power? Was Odinga a true democrat and ‘reformer’ as he had for decades claimed?"
On his arrest as a student leader, which led to him fleeing into exile:
“What followed can only be characterised as frenzied violence. As if thirsty for my blood, seven torturers jumped on me, kicking, punching and hollering. Some reached for my testicles and tried to squeeze and pull them as hard as they could while I writhed in pain. They mocked me, saying that a true revolutionary did not have to cry. “Remember Che! Eh? Remember Che?” one kept yelling.”
On the !night of the disputed 2007 general election results:
“Things had deteriorated to a point where sections of the media (both local and foreign), observers (both local and international), politicians from all sides, and ODM and PNU youth were baying at each other; ready for a grand finale. “Kibaki and his PNU thieves will not intimidate us with his heavily armed security forces!” I shouted, as I approached the front of the hall.
“Mr. Miguna; you will not intimidate me. I know you...I know you are huge, but I’m not scared of you!” responded the ECK Chairman, Samuel Kivuitu. The response was completely gratuitous, since I was not trying to intimidate anybody; all I was trying to do was demand - very strongly - for the results to start being announced.”
On Odinga and Kibaki's relationship:
“Eeeeh...eehhhh..eiiii...Please save me from Kibaki! Eeeeeh..eiiiii...Please don’t let me go back to that man...I don’t want to go back to Kibaki! Eeeeh...eiii...Please save me from Kibaki!” Raila broke down and cried, torrents of tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He was shaking uncontrollably.
It was about 3:30pm on April 6, 2008. Everyone in the room was stunned. They had never seen Raila cry before. We looked at each other, unable to move. No one was prepared for this heart-wrenching scene. I guess we had assumed that Raila was ‘superhuman’. He had a larger-than-life image in the consciousness of Kenyans...But there he was, someone we all held in awe, wailing uncontrollably in front of everyone...Raila had just returned from a face-to-face meeting with Kibaki over the formation of the grand coalition government following the signing of the national accord and reconciliation agreement on February 28, 2008. By then he had attended numerous meetings and most had ended in stalemate or Raila’s capitulation. Raila’s debriefs...had become "a routine in itself, with him repeating “Kibaki can’t accept this” or “Kibaki is insisting on that”." Raila was not only crying; he was also sweating profusely.”
