Freedom Fighter: The Forests of Resistance

The Night the Forest Went Quiet

The forest never truly sleeps but that night, it held its breath.

It was around two o’clock in the morning when men arrived at our mbuci (hideout), their footsteps hurried, their voices low but shaking. They brought news that landed like a gunshot in the dark: General Nubi had been killed. Shot dead the previous evening just before sunset.

In the aftermath, his force had shattered. Some fighters, led by his second-in-command Arap Chuma, fled toward Muguga Forest. Others came our way, carrying grief, fear and the heavy silence that follows loss in war. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then something hardened us.

From that night on, we swore an oath among ourselves: even if we were left with only two bullets, we would never let the enemy pass without consequence.

Bombs Over Muguga

Four days later, the sky answered our fears. Muguga Forest was bombed not once but relentlessly. We sent scouts to the Reserve to learn what had become of those who had gone with Arap Chuma. When they returned, their report was grim: everyone had been captured.

Miraculously, none had been killed but capture was its own kind of death.

The proverb guided us then, as it had guided our elders: shielding oneself is not cowardice. Survival meant moving again.

Survival in Shifting Forests

Now under the command of General Nkayak Ole Gathatwa, a fierce warrior from Masailand, we turned toward Kamahia Forest, hoping to find General Waruingi and his force.

Each forest carried its own character and danger:

• Kamahia was bitterly cold, thick with colobus and other monkeys and alive with snakes near water valleys.
• Giceru Forest, by contrast, was home to baboons, zebras, giraffes and hyenas.
• Rare and Ngubi Forests became temporary refuges as we searched for General Gicinga’s force.

We searched Kamahia all day but failed to locate Waruingi’s mbuci (hideout). Instead, we met long-time forest survivors — komerera (fighters in hiding) — among them a man called Kimungunya, who told us Waruingi had already moved on.

After two weeks, we left Kamahia for Rare, then followed Gicinga to Ngubi Forest, where we were finally welcomed with celebration and meagre vegetable food.

Hunger and Disagreement

Hunger soon surfaced. That night, as we sat around the fire to warm ourselves, murmurs spread. The men wanted meat. Spoke of strength lost to leaves and roots. Gicinga’s fighters resisted the idea of a cattle raid. The ground in Ngubi, they explained, was soft. Cattle would leave clear tracks, exposing the mbuci (hideout) to colonial patrols. Worse still, Keinokwe, the white officer leading the Lari Home Guards was active nearby.

Eventually, a compromise was reached. The raid would wait until the ground dried. When the rains eased, eight men, including two from Gicinga’s force moved on Lari Village. The raid was effortless. Four fat cattle were separated and driven away, slaughtered immediately and the meat hidden far from camp.

For a brief moment, hunger gave way to satisfaction.

Clash with Keinokwe

The following afternoon, at about three o’clock, the forest shifted again. Our sentries lay near a glade that turned into a small lake during heavy rains. From the far side, seven camouflaged figures emerged, creeping cautiously across the clearing. One was white. The rest were black.

It was Keinokwe.

Warnings reached us in quick succession. Then Kibubi kniwn in the forest as Ole Emlute — arrived himself, breathless, shotgun dragging behind him. Keinokwe had found thetrail.etrail.

General Nkayak did not panic, he acted instantly. The elderly and young women were ordered away. The rest of us took positions, covering ourselves with brush. No one was to fire until he did. His target was Keinokwe and the machine gun he carried.

Keinokwe, however, was cautious. Though he had led the trail, he let his men enter the mbuci (hideout) first, whispering loudly as they searched.

“They slaughtered cattle here,” one said.

“Yes — the terrorists were here recently. They must have fled,” another replied.

Keinokwe himself lingered behind a munderendu bush. When General Nkayak saw the danger, our positions close to being uncovered, he fired. The bullet missed. But that was enough.

Keinokwe ran — fast, undignified, abandoning his men. When we opened fire, panic took over. Though armed to the teeth, none of them fired back. They fled, wailing into the forest.

We did not know if any were wounded. None were killed.

Moving Forward

By nightfall, we knew Ngubi was no longer safe. Fearing Keinokwe would return with reinforcements, we abandoned the mbuci, moved through gum-tree clearings, and eventually reached Karunga, arriving at Kibendera, a mbuci occupied by the force of General Aga Khan.

It was another retreat and another renewal.