‘I beg you my sister, don’t dare to get involved in politics’

Daniel Nelson

For many Brits, Mau Mau conjures up images of horrifyingly brutal Black men swearing frighteningly bloodthirsty oaths before committing unspeakable atrocities against White people.

Our Land, Our Freedom focuses on the uprising against land-grabbing British colonial rule from a Kenyan viewpoint, with former Mau Mau fighters talking about their experience of incarceration in British concentration camps, which included castration as punishment. The heart of darkness suddenly looks British.

The film is also important because it takes up the case of the now elderly fighters and other families who were stripped of their land and have never succeeded in reclaiming it. Mau Mau was banned as a result of an agreement by the departing Brits and the incoming independence administration, and the new government was not interested in disturbing the status quo by allowing the landless to oust those who had replaced them.

Eight years in the making, the documentary focuses on Wanjugu, daughter of Dedan Kimathi, the leader of the Mau Mau – the Kenya Land & Freedom Army. He was hanged by the colonial government in 1957 and buried secretly. The family has been searching for his remains for years “so we can bury him and free the nation”.

Wanjugu is not your flashy, charismatic leader. She’s a grafter, rather stolid, a tireless worker who keeps up the search and, brick by brick, builds a movement for the elderly impoverished landless.

There are some lovely personal touches, particularly between Wanjugu and her mother, Mukami, venerated by the elderly ex-fighters. Her mother’s face is frozen in what appears to be a “Parkinson’s mask”, but the family can force a smile: and when a mike is thrust in front of her she can rouse her voice to address a crowd, echoing down the decades.

One of the most telling moments in the film – familiar to rights campaigners around the world – is the ambiguous phone call from a security official, who threatens without threats: “Just go slow on this matter.

“The Government already has a plan in place,” he cautions without cautioning. “That’s why I am advising you, my sister. This is a very delicate matter that needs a lot of wisdom.”

She is frightened, with reason: “I’m not feeling safe at all. My fear is What if I’m killed or eliminated before I finish what I’m doing about settling the freedom fighters? That’s my biggest fear.”

Why the veiled threats? Later in the film she is advised that the government is worried because she has mobilised so many people: “For politicians, it’s very dangerous. You know, you have a big reputation in Kenya. No-one has ever mobilised more than 10,000 people: the people they [the Government] can mobilise cannot be more than 1,000, and those who come must be given money.”

In other words, politicians want to be part of her project as it gains momentum by trying to buy land for resettlement.

“The best thing for you, I beg you my sister, don’t dare to get involved in politics,” advises the drawling security official. 

Wanjugu, however, is determined: “There is no going back … I’m going to continue the fight that my parents began. I’m not backoff until I settle the Mau May freedom fighters and other landless Kenyans.”

* Our Land, Our Freedom is showing at the Sheffield DocFest on 13 and 15 June, both with Q&A with directors Meena Nanji and Zippy Kimundu.

DIRECTORS' STATEMENT 

We were both born in Kenya. For several years, we had each been working on  issues around British colonialism before we met. Both our families were involved  in the 1950's freedom movement, albeit in different ways.  

Our motivation stems from the belief that Kenyans should author their own  history. At school, we were taught a British history, that is still taught in schools  today. This history largely omits the Kenyan perspective, and instead, glorifies  British rule as benevolent, the violence against Kenyans whitewashed.  

We think it is essential to challenge British accounts of this era, and to tell of the  Independence struggle from the perspective of those who fought it. And we  believe that it is time for the atrocities committed by the colonial regime, and by  the white settlers alike, to be exposed, these secrets unearthed, and to examine  how the colonial legacy endures today.  

As filmmakers, we are uniquely positioned to make this film as we both have a  broad network of support and contacts, both in Kenya and internationally,  including academics, lawyers, archivists, and human rights advocates, who are  all lending their support and expertise to the film. We have also built personal  connections with the elders who have entrusted us with their stories. We have  strong support within the communities of ex-camp detainees who comprise a  broad cross-section of the population.  

Our film is unique in being intentionally from the Kenyan perspective where the  Kenyan experience is centered. We do not have western narrators or ‘experts'  providing context; the British voice is represented by official British documents  and newsreel footage. We assign Kenyan voices authority and credibility,  underpinned by hard evidence: a clear departure from other documentaries  about this subject.  

- Meena Nanji & Zippy Kimundu