Gikuyu Converts

The first African converts to appear in Meru regions were Gikuyu, often barely of warrior age. Having been baptized in their own region, they were sent on to Meru to preach the new religion until white missionaries arrived. For Gikuyu to proselytize in Meru regions in the first years after British conquest must have required an unusual combination of religious zeal and private courage. It was a time, remember, when the Meru considered the Gikuyu their mortal enemies. Nor were they overawed by blacks who dressed and spoke like whites, dismissing them as Kamuchunku, or "little whites." In that era a Gikuyu in Meru had reason to be fearful.

The first European missionary order to rely entirely on Gikuyu converts within Meru was the Church of Scotland Presbyterian Mission (CSM), subsequently known as the Presbyterian Church of East Africa. The CSM first entered Kenya in 1891, initially settling at Kibwezi, an isolated plateau one hundred miles inland from the coast. At that time the plateau was barely inhabited, and the few Kamba tribespeople with whom the early missionaries came in contact took no interest in the Christian message.

The CSM was delighted, therefore, at the chance to acquire land in the cooler, healthier, and more densely populated Gikuyu highlands. The extension of the railway into those areas, however, triggered a frantic competition for new sites among the missionary orders. In 1902 the

British Church Missionary Society and the Church of Scotland Mission effectively divided the entire highlands, with the British acquiring the western side as its exclusive sphere and the Scots receiving the eastern. Both areas were far too vast for either order to occupy effectively. Notwithstanding, in 1903 the CSM established an initial mission station among the southern Gikuyu (Kikuyu Mission), and in 1908 a second, among the northern Gikuyu (Tumutumu Mission).

By 1912–1913 the British Church Missionary Society had become uncomfortably aware of the sheer magnitude of the region it had claimed, which comprised thousands of square miles and tens of thousands of people. In a burst of generosity it transferred "two sections of the Kikuyu tribes," known as Chuka (now Cuka) and Mwimbi, to the Church of Scotland Mission, asking only that they be occupied immediately by missionaries. The challenge was accepted within weeks. In October 1913, Rev. John W. Arthur, an evangelical and medical missionary from Glasgow, and head of the Church of Scotland mission at Tumutumu, left his Gikuyu region to inspect Cuka-Mwimbi and select a mission station site.^[2]

Accompanied by W. O. Tait, the mission carpenter at Tumutumu, Arthur trekked around Mount Kenya's southern slope, entering Cuka-Mwimbi from the Embu region. On arrival he noted the "first sign of British civilization," the systematic destruction of the great forest barricade that had protected the Cuka from their enemies. The entire structure had been ordered cut down by Orde-Browne in one of his first acts as assistant district commissioner to remind every African that peace was now maintained by England.

Orde-Browne had also established a thriving government station along the Naka River, in the heart of Cuka. By 1913, Fort Naka, as it was called, consisted of a "stone house, log-cabin office, neat compound of twenty clean huts for native soldiers, a couple of broad roads, and an Indian shop."^[3] Orde-Browne proved exceptionally knowledgeable about both the Cuka and Mwimbi peoples, whom he estimated at fifteen thousand and twenty-five thousand, respectively. He then provided Arthur with detailed routes and an expert guide. Over the next few days Arthur visited the villages of Kabandango, Kiambati, Gaitungi, and Mbogore M'Mwendo, whom he described as "paramount chiefs," of Cuka and lower, central, and upper Mwimbi, respectively.^[4] On reflection Arthur selected sites near each of the first three as points on which to launch his mission.

In October 1914 a second CSM expedition entered Cuka-Mwimbi, essentially following the same route as the first.^[5] A tentative decision was made to construct the first station at "Gaitungi's," actually the village of Mwiria ya Mburia in lower Mwimbi. The individual selected to pioneer the effect was Rev. Stanley E. Jones, a medical missionary with several years' experience in Gikuyu. In their isolation, however, the CSM had failed to reckon with the impact of World War I, which had erupted in Europe in August 1914. Within months the conflict had reached East Africa, diverting the energies of every white in Kenya colony. As a result all missionary expansion stopped, as it proved impossible to send even one European to occupy the Cuka-Mwimbi area.

The CSM then shifted strategies, reasoning that a beginning, at least, could be made of carrying on the projected expansion with the aid of Gikuyu converts. At the very least the presence of a staff of "experienced native Christians" would be sufficient to meet government requirements that the missionaries occupy their promised lands.

In October 1915, therefore, a procession of six Gikuyu Christian converts marched bravely out of the Church of Scotland's southern mission, trekking northwest to Cuka-Mwimbi. They were led by Daudi Makumi, then perhaps eighteen years old. Before the conquest he would have been a very junior warrior. Now, his spear had been replaced by a Bible. He was accompanied by Samsoni Maingi, perhaps sixteen years old. Samsoni had been trained in Tumutumu as a medical dresser and was instructed to establish a "hospital" at the new site. Daudi was also accompanied by his wife, Priscilla, her sister, and two other recent converts.^[6] Two "pagan" Gikuyu served as porters to them all, in sharp contrast to the thirty to three hundred that had accompanied their European predecessors.

The trek took seven days, and it is still remembered by those who took part in it as a time of dread. No member of the group was gichiaro (allied) to any Cuka-Mwimbi clan, and each one feared they would be seen as enemies. On arrival, however, they were directed to Mbogore M'Mwendo. The chief informed them that they were now "under his cloak" and thus could proceed to the preselected village of Gaitungi's (Mwiria ya Mburia) and build what they wished.

The "cloak of Mborgore," however, provided them with nothing but protection. They were given just enough land to build three huts. "Not a handful was given to let women hoe their men a garden."^[7] Rather the "little whites" were expected to buy daily food from local Mwimbi,

paying for every bite with the money that was assumed all "whites" would have in endless quantities.

The huts were built—for cash—by Mwimbi labor. In addition Samsoni set up an English tent as a medical dispensary. That done, Daudi set out to preach the word of God. Given the insecurity of his position, Daudi's tactics were quite practical. Rather than either wandering among the villages or trying to lure people into his huts, as had his English and Italian predecessors to the north, he began each day by walking purposefully to the hut of a chief.

On arrival he asked for "readers" and expected each chief to supply them. His best reception came from Mbogore. The chief, as decisive as Daudi, initially welcomed Christianity. Always convinced that European innovations would enhance Mwimbi power, he was quick to honor the convert's request. Mbogore's first response, therefore, was to provide a wooden table, sufficient children to sit around it, and the command that they remain until they all could read. His second reaction was to compel each headman within his Mwimbi region to do the same.

Other chiefs, whether impressed or cowed by Mbogore's decisions, fell hesitantly into line, providing chairs, children, and an occasional older listener. In addition Daudi himself made special efforts to preach among those who came to Samsoni's dispensary for medicine, believing that only the afflicted would consider appeals to a new god.

Daudi's cheerful persistence produced results. He preached only in Gikuyu, a language incomprehensible to the children who had composed his earlier audiences. The language was familiar, however, to those warriors who had worked for whites within Gikuyu-speaking regions. Often, hearing him speak the language, they would stop and listen to his preaching and then return to learn more.

Several of the Ndinguri (elder boys) were also fascinated. To them, Gikuyu was the language of adventure, the door to experiences beyond the tribe. Their goal was to imitate their older brothers, who now earned praise and glory by learning how to work for the whites. "Those who came, of course, were not so much attracted to the new faith as the new learning," but for Daudi it was sufficient that they stayed.^[8] As a Gikuyu, non-European, and relatively young man, he made several adaptations in preaching strategies that might have shocked his dour Scottish sponsors. One change was a decision to restrict his preaching solely to men, perhaps through fear that Mwimbi males might misunderstand his efforts with their women. His message also changed. Assuming—

perhaps unconsciously—the legitimacy and reality of African religious traditions in a way a European of that era would have found impossible, he tried constantly to recast Christian concepts into terms his listeners would understand. As his wife subsequently recalled: " 'What is the difference,' my man [Daudi] would cry, 'between the blood of Ikristo [Christ] and the blood of ndurume [a ram]? As the blood of a dying [sacrificial] ram serves to remove Mugiro [curse, condition of impurity], so does the blood of this white son of God serve to remove sin.'"^[9]

The converts also differed from Western missionaries in their willingness to assume traditional roles within the African community in addition to their labors as the messengers of Christ. Samsoni Maingi, for example, held no illusion about his ability to preach. A quiet man, he refused to march through the villages, preferring to remain near his hospital tent and treat anyone who appeared. Nor would he evangelize as he healed, believing that his work alone would spread the Christian message. Instead, it spread his reputation as a "wonder worker and quick healer," especially after he displayed his skill in minor surgery.^[10] As a result he gradually took on the duties of a circumciser, performing the traditional operation with increasing confidence and thus acquiring a traditional role within the tribe.

Daudi also assumed a traditional role. On occasion he would pass Mwimbi elders meeting in Kiama to resolve a local conflict. More rarely, spokesmen from several localities would assemble to form a council-of-councils. At such times Daudi simply joined the assembly, squatting on the fringes of the gathering with others of his age-set. There he would remain, silently listening to what the elders had to say, as both Gikuyu and Mwimbi tradition required from Meru his age. Many elders found this behavior worthy of their praise, and several chiefs, among them Mbogore, commended him as one who had not yet forgotten that wisdom only comes from listening to elders.

Daudi and Samsoni left Mwimbi after two years, in October 1917, in obedience to CSM policy that required converts to move on regularly. After their departure the demands of war kept the CSM from naming their replacements, and the mission compound was thus unoccupied for two full years. In October 1919, however, Ismaili Wangu, a second CSM convert from Gikuyu, appeared in Mwimbi to take up the work.

Wangu served in upper Mwimbi from 1919 to 1921. He found that Daudi's work had fallen into ruins. The "Wasomaji [readers] had lost their skills, those who listened to Samsoni [preach] had returned to

pagan rituals and even the huts had begun to collapse due to insects and rain."^[11] Nor did the local warriors intend to welcome a new Gikuyu convert. When asked to rebuild the collapsing huts into a Western-style mission compound, they demanded so much money that Wangu felt bound to refuse.

Initially, Wangu was in despair. In November 1919 the rains poured so heavily through what remained of the mission rooftops that his wife and baby "had to live under an umbrella" to survive. For the next few weeks he cajoled and threatened, always to no avail. Finally, he returned to CSM's Gikuyu station in apparent surrender, only to reappear days later with a letter—written by Arthur—for the assistant district commissioner at Cuka. Wangu recalled later: "When I showed this letter to the [assistant] District Commissioner, he read it and looked at me angrily. Then he sent for M'Muga, the oxen-beater, a blanket-policeman known for beating people like oxen. At first I thought I should be beaten, but the District Commissioner told the oxen-beater he should be sleeping in my home [mission compound] until the roofs were secure."^[12] Wangu then returned with the policeman to the mission compound: "On the next day I blew the trumpet—for I had no [church] bell. When the people came, I called out to the warriors, and told them, 'You asked me to give you posho [porridge, slang for money]? Your posho is this policeman.' "^[13] The rebuilding of the mission compound proceeded without further incident.

Enforced completion of the buildings, however, did not ensure they would be filled. For weeks, when Wangu blew his trumpet, no one came. Nor did visits to surrounding villages at first produce results. Wangu soon learned, for example, "never to report in advance to which place [village] I was coming, since whenever I did so, I would arrive to find nobody there."^[14] He found, however, that unannounced appearances transformed him, in local eyes, from alien to guest, and thereby one deserving of traditional courtesies. His welcome was also enhanced by descriptions of his intended work. Perhaps unconsciously, he emphasized that he had come to teach young men to read. Only incidentally did he mention a second aim, which was to teach all men the word of God.

Such statements did make Wangu friends. Over time a tiny group (ten to thirty people) began to respond to his trumpet calls, straggling to the mission for chanted prayers, a little sermon, and, for those who stayed, the chance to read. As in European missions to the Meru north, Wangu's listeners were mostly younger children with a sprinkling of elder boys.

Surprisingly, Wangu also drew several girls, a development that was less a reflection of their desire to become readers than of the unsettled times in which they lived. The years 1919–1921 brought drought and famine, when the harvest of sufficient grain meant life or death. In consequence chiefs throughout Mwimbi sought more girls than ever to labor in their farmlands, a practice also imitated by their personal retainers and one that increasingly required the girls' attendance overnight. Wangu responded by offering overnight shelter from such obligations to those few girls who came to him as readers. If the girls' fathers objected in their turn and seized his pupils, Wangu went after them by force.

The test of Wangu's power to protect his pupils came in 1921. A chief from lower Mwimbi, M'Kiambati, became incensed at what he perceived as the "flight" of several youngsters working on his farmland to the safety of the CSM in upper Mwimbi. With the support of several other chiefs he lodged charges against Wangu, accusing him of shielding youths of both sexes from government-required labor and advising them not to pay their hut tax. The charges were backed by Kithamba Kirume, a lower Mwimbi government servant. If proved, they were intended to provoke Wangu's dismissal and the closing of the CSM station.

Wangu, a man capable both of great anger and considerable eloquence, argues his case with skill, carefully presenting arguments phrased in a way he believed the district commissioner would understand. His opponent based his counterarguments on Meru tradition, citing precedents in Meru oral law that the district commissioner failed entirely to comprehend. Finally, the district commissioner settled the issue.

He stood and asked each chief in turn, if they had children in [Wangu's] school. Each assured they did not. He then asked if men could join a cow-case [a case in which the ownership of a cow came into dispute] if they themselves owned no cow. Each answered they could not. If no man joins a cow-case without a cow, then no man joins a school case without a child in school.^[15]

Chief M'Kiambati was fined the then staggering sum of sixty shillings and a goat. Thereafter no chief dared raise his voice against the mission.

Despite winning such battles, however, the converts never won their war. Over time both Daudi and Wangu became part of the colonial structure. Unwelcome among the population at large, they were able to operate only through protection of the chiefs, and ultimately the colonial administration. Politically, their initial acceptance came from

feelings held not only by Mbogore but also several of his comrades that the Mwimbi were being left behind by other regions, notably Embu and Imenti, because of their high number of white officials. These Mwimbi were at least partially convinced that whites of their own were required to restore the balance. They were thus understandably distressed at the decision of both Catholic and Methodist missions to expand to the north rather than into their area. To counter this trend, they sought a mission of their own and were happy to accept Gikuyu converts as long as whites would eventually appear.

In religious terms, however, the impact of these Gikuyu converts was almost nonexistent. Too few responded to their message. Though several youths learned to sing and pray, and a few began to read, no one converted. Nor were even the most avid forced to change the rhythm of their lives in ways disruptive to the community. No one intimidated the few who came to read; no one cursed, ostracized, beat, taunted, or obstructed them in any way. The Mwimbi's basic reaction to the Gikuyu converts was one of apathy. Between 1915 and 1921 they proved almost wholly indifferent to both the new faith and the new knowledge that seemed so little relevant to their communal lives.