On the morning of October 31, 1920, something remarkable happened. This is exactly 100 years, 11 months and 29 days ago, a leap year. A white-haired Pope Benedict XV was then at the helm of the Catholic Church.
On this day, a small infant was born into the world, shrieking and kicking - Field Marshal Dedan Kimathi.
Kimathi was born in a thatched, mud-walled hut somewhere in Nyeri. Archive files speak of the hut 'so smoky that the infant's eyes were bloodshot for almost a week'. He was named Kimathi wa Waciuri, after his father.
He'd rise through the ranks to lead the Mau Mau Uprising, also acting as a spiritual leader.
He's recognized as a revolutionary leader who ably led the armed military struggle against the British colonial regime in Kenya in the 1950's. Dedan Kimathi was one of the only three Field Marshals in the Mau Mau Uprising. The others were Musa Mwariama and Muthoni Kirima - the only woman to achieve the military rank.
Field Marshal Kimathi is known for his war exploits in Mt. Kenya and Aberdare forests, little is known of his zeal and dedication as a father and dotting husband - or his close relationship with his wife, Mukami.
There's stranger than fiction stories of an intimidating fighter. Sometimes, erratic and impulsive. He'd often stare leopards out of their caves. He'd plan and execute tactical missions on British camps. While fellow fighters would be searching the forest for their commander, he'd stagger back into their forest hide out at dawn.
Sometimes, he'd bring a captive along - an hapless home guard - heavily laden with food and ammunition. The home guards were a despised lot, and taken as traitors.
For all the Macho bravery, the hulky fighter with a menacing stare would become a mouse in the presence of his wife - Mukami. He'd calmly listen when she spoke, and follow her suggestions. She'd juggle her roles as wife, mother - she'd beget him 2 sons and 8 daughters - and, fighter.
However, it's largely unknown that Mukami was instrumental in all the three stages of the Mau Mau Uprising.
In the first stage - recruitment and induction - Mukami was key in the successful planning of tribal dances, targeting young men and women. At this time, most men had taken refuge in the forest, or in detention camps. It's only women that were allowed free movement.
Mukami's dances would have a love theme, but would turn political or patriotic - in a bid to prepare people for a major war in the offing.
The second stage was the secretive binding oaths. Again, Mukami was a key strategist.
The third stage was the repositioning of the rebels in terms of forest fighters, the combatants - the guerillas for which Mukami's husband Kimathi was a member. This stage had Mukami organizing a daring band of women.
She ran the show with the women, when it came to positioning spies, oath administrators, resource mobilisers, and food suppliers to fighters in the forest.
As the war progressed and Kimathi rose through the ranks, Mukami would increasingly become his grounding critic. She lived in the village, making frequent forays into the forest to deliver news, intel or critical supplies.
It's said that she'd walk in, unannounced, into tense, volatile meetings held by her husband - in which, she'd be a thorn in his backside. She'd be the only one bold enough to criticise him. He'd be seething with anger, eyes flashing - but, he'd pause long enough to listen to her.
The fighters adored her, and called her 'The Wasp'. Small, fast and quick to sting. Field Marshal Kimathi adored her - and, would confess to 'hate and love this little woman'. Mukami wasn't petite by regular standards, but Kimathi's towering figure easily dwarfed her.
Kimathi was captured in 1956.
On a chilly, early morning of February 18, 1957, Field Marshall Dedan Kimathi's date with the hang man dawned. He was executed by hanging, at Kamiti Maximum Security Prison gallows.
Customarily, condemned prisoners are granted a last wish before they die. Kimathi's wish was a meeting with his wife, Mukami. She drove to the prison two hours to his execution. They had a long private meeting.
While details are scarce about what they discussed, Mukami delivered her husband's final message to the people still in the cause, and defined his legacy.
He said: "I have no doubt in my mind that the British are determined to execute me. I have committed no crime. My only crime is that I am a Kenyan revolutionary who led a liberation army... Now If I must leave you and my family, I have nothing to regret about..."
