In 2014, Belgian documentary artist Max Pinckers was invited to the Archive of Modern Conflict in London, where he came across a collection of British propaganda material relating to the 1950s “Mau Mau Emergency Crisis” in Kenya. Since then he has been working with various Mau Mau War Veterans Associations in Kenya, with a particular focus on using photography to (re-)visualize the fight for independence from their personal perspectives. This includes mass graves, former detention camp buildings, locations of former mobile gallows, cave hideouts, oral witness testimonies, portraits and demonstrations of personal experiences.

This ongoing documentary project titled Unhistories departs from the Hanslope Disclosure in which British colonial archives were destroyed, hidden and manipulated. Known as Operation Legacy in the 1950s, the British colonial administration in Kenya destroyed much of the documentation relating to the Emergency prior to their departure in 1963. Unhistories is a collaboration with Mau Mau veterans, Kenyans who survived the colonial violence, historians, artists, activists, writers, archives, universities and museumsto fill in the missing gaps of the archives.

This third part of the Unhistories series covers some of the figures who shaped the fight on both sides among Kenyans and the British, and introduces members from the Mau Mau War Veterans Association and their stories.

Field Marshal Muthoni wa Kirima

Muthoni wa Kirima (b.1930) attained the rank of Field Marshal. She entered the Aberdare Forest in 1952 and was never caught, although she still has a bullet lodged in her hand. She was nicknamed “Nina wa Thonjo” (weaver bird) by Dedan Kimathi because of her ability to weave brilliant war strategies. She was one of the last Mau Mau who laid down their arms at the flag of free Kenya at Ruringu stadium in 1963, where she met Jomo Kenyatta.

She still has the same dreadlocks she had when fighting in the forest, which she calls “the history of Kenya.” They are a symbol of her dissatisfaction with the new governments and she vows only to cut them when the deserved compensation is given to the Mau Mau veterans.

“I emerged from the forest after eleven years but was never given even an inch of land. I have nothing to show for those eleven years, not even a needle. It was only the sons of the supporters of the white men who benefited from the blood and sweat of our battered bodies.”

“I am still in the forest,” she says. She wants the “protruding bones of fallen heroes in shallow graves in Mt Kenya forests” collected and buried honorably. “The bones of my fellow freedom fighters are, like me, crying in the forests. We ventured into the forests to free the country from the grip of the white settlers. We thought that those we left behind schooling would fight for us, but things turned out differently.” The erasure of Muthoni and others like her from Kenya’s history books depresses her as she sites how unfortunate it is that “only white people” visit her inquiring about her story.

Peter Irungu Njuguna

In the whole of Central Province the British installed a villagization program for women and children. The villages were surrounded by a fence, a trench with spikes, and Home Guards in watchtowers. You’d leave early in the morning to go for forced labor, either digging roads, digging trenches; just out of spite so that you are continuously engaged.

At 5 pm you had one hour to leave the compound and search for food. One hour to go and look for food to feed your family. If you were late in coming back, you were arrested and taken to detention at the inner post, because it was alleged that you were helping the Mau Mau on the outside. When in detention you were beaten, whipped and you would sleep outside. In the morning you would be forced to carry a basin full of sand on your head for 12 hours, with your hands up, without putting it down.

— Peter Irungu Njuguna, Murang’a, 2019

Geoffrey Nderitu

This is my home, this land was our father’s and he left it to us when he died. There is a mass grave here. The ground I walk on is over people’s graves, but I found this one and I am taking care of it for the sake of tomorrow and the years to come.

This row is filled with young men, Mau Mau soldiers. They died between 1952 and 1955. They were murdered by Europeans while fighting for this soil. They are buried in deep and wide holes. In one hole there could be up to 30 people buried, based on how fast the bodies were coming in.

Here is a skull. This is an arm bone, these are leg bones, the skull, the jaw. I take care of this a lot. I take care of their bones because I don’t want to lose them. These are the people who gave us freedom. The warriors of independence have been buried here, and banana trees planted over them. Let’s preserve them here in remembrance of our freedom fighters. They don’t disturb me, they are my friends. They are my brothers.

— Geoffrey Nderitu, Tetu, Gititu, Nyeri County, 2019

Dedan Kimathi Waciuri

Widely regarded as the military and spiritual leader of the anti colonial movement, Kimathi fought against the British in the 1950s. When the colonial administration declared the state of emergency, Kimathi took to the forests close to Mount Kenya. He is credited with creating formal military structures and convening a war council along with his fellow Field Marshals. Kimathi was charged with possession of illegal firearms and sentenced to hang. He was executed on February 18, 1957 at Kamiti Maximum Prison. After his execution, his body was buried in an unmarked grave and has not been found to this day. He is now a celebrated national hero.

The spot where Dedan Kimathi was shot in the leg and arrested by Home Guard Ndirangu Mau. It is believed that the blood that soaked into the soil created an infertile patch of land where no tea has grown since. Kahigaini, Tetu, Nyeri County, Kenya, 2015.

More from the Unhistories series

In 2014, Belgian documentary artist Max Pinckers was invited to the Archive of Modern Conflict in London, where he came across a collection of British propaganda material relating to the 1950s “Mau Mau Emergency Crisis” in Kenya. Since then he has been working with various Mau Mau War Veterans Associations in Kenya, with a particular focus on using photography to (re-)visualize the fight for independence from their personal perspectives. This includes mass graves, former detention camp buildings, locations of former mobile gallows, cave hideouts, oral witness testimonies, portraits and demonstrations of personal experiences.

This ongoing documentary project titled Unhistories departs from the Hanslope Disclosure in which British colonial archives were destroyed, hidden and manipulated. Known as Operation Legacy in the 1950s, the British colonial administration in Kenya destroyed much of the documentation relating to the Emergency prior to their departure in 1963. Unhistories is a collaboration with Mau Mau veterans, Kenyans who survived the colonial violence, historians, artists, activists, writers, archives, universities and museums.

Part I of this series covers a walk through archival material, vaults and the burning of incriminating materials by the British government, as well as interviews and demonstrations by Mau Mau veterans.

Mũgo wa Kĩbirũ’s Prophecy

Here stood one of the largest Mũgumo trees in the country, with a diameter of about four and a half meters. The Kikuyu sage Mũgo (Chêgê wa Kĩbirũ) prophesied that the fall of this giant fig tree would mark the end of British colonial rule in Kenya. In 1946, while it was a place of worship for the Kikuyu community, the British assigned 24-hour security around the tree and decided to fortify with metal bars and a circular iron ring filled with soil to prevent it from falling.

Shortly before Kenya became independent in 1963, the tree was struck by lightning, split into two parts and withered away. The circular reinforcement still remains today, with a new tree now growing out of it.

The Hanslope Disclosure

In 2011, during the negotiations for compensation of Kenyan victims of abuse, the unrelenting efforts of lawyers and expert witnesses led to the discovery and release of thousands of secret files held by the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) at the a highly-secured government facility Hanslope Park. The FCO was forced to reveal the existence of some 1,500 government files secretly removed from Kenya on the eve of independence, a process known as “Operation Legacy.” They provided many unseen documents which described in detail the systemic torture of detainees during the emergency, and the knowledge of those abuses by British Government officials in London and Nairobi. These “Migrated Archives” are just a small part of a much larger collection of documents that were either destroyed or have disappeared. The FCO subsequently announced that it held files from all 37 former colonies, a collection of about 20,000 items.

“(a) Might embarrass H.M.G. [Her Majesty’s Government] or other Governments;
(b) Might embarrass members of the police, military forces, public servants or others (such as police agents or informers);
(c) Might compromise sources of intelligence;
(d) Might be used unethically by Ministers in the successor Government.”

— Protection and Disposal of Classified and Accountable Documents and Records Generally, TNA FCO 141/6970, 1961-63

“It is permissible, as an alternative to destruction by fire, for documents to be packed in weighted crates and dumped in very deep and current-free water at maximum practicable distance from the coast.”
— Disposal of Classified Records and Acceptable Documents, TNA FCO 141-6957, 1961

Paul Mwangi Mwenja

When the British came here they treated us like animals. They abused us saying that we Africans are domesticated gibbons and mannequins, that we have all the characteristics of human beings but suffer from academic inferiority. They expelled us from our shambas, our lands, and they settled.

They said we have no capacity of carrying our documents. So they made boxes, they called them “identity box” (kipande), which they told us to hang by our neck. They said we have no pockets or money, so they made coins with holes in them, with a string through them, to tie around our necks. They did the same with dogs. Dogs had their identity tied to their necks. And we Africans, we had our identity tied to our necks. The British were overpowering, pressing and dictating, and ruling very rudely. They took our lands by force, our property, our houses, they took everything and they ruled us very dictatorially until we said that enough is enough. Then we fought for our independence. We didn’t get the reward or compensation to wipe our tears for the land we are fighting for, we still haven’t gotten any.

Our government forgot about us freedom fighters. That is why you see us very thin and poor, living a life that does not fit people like us. I don’t know what we can do for this to reach our president. But I hope that he may remember us before we die.

— Paul Mwangi Mwenja (MMWVA Murang’a Branch Secretary), Murang’a, 2019