Kibaki, Raila and all Kenyans stand accused.
Mr Kibaki, I indict you.
You stole the election that I stood for six hours to participate in. By your actions, my life irrevocably changed. History will now forget the great achievement and legacy that you were poised to make and it shall remember that for your self-righteousness, people lost lives, property, and most of all, hope. On the blood of my people, I indict you.
Mr Odinga, my chosen president, on the blood and tears of my people, I indict you.
Because of your bitterness, justified though it is, my life irrevocably changes. My greatest achievements, my family, died in your name. My son, my heir, named after my great ancestors, went up in smoke before he could say my name, or his great name. Koitalet.
My twin daughters, Wanjiru and Sanaipei, were found by my burnt house in Eldoret, having bled out of their wounds. My wife was not spared from the death either. This happened in your name, Sir. Because you have to get justice. Because my wife was from the wrong community. Because you must get what is yours.
You will read this and feel nothing. You will rationalize it as accepted collateral damage. Some must die in the pursuit of justice, isn’t it?
Kenyans, on the blood of my children, I indict you all. You lost the ball. You forgot that our ethnicity is something we joke about, as we go about our business.
You forgot that we do not fight, we mediate. You forgot that we are a great people, built on the back of great people. You forgot that it’s just elections.
On the blood of my children, on the tears of my dead wife, on the tears of our mothers, on the tears in the sheets of those people who are sleeping in the rain, I indict you.