Sudan: Escape from Voi

By Ted Walde

A story narrated by Dr Haridi; a genius genetic engineer. He discovers a protein that will protect the last surviving northern white rhinos from poaching. His paper on the Stoneman syndrome leads a secessionist sect to take him captive. He tells the story of how he was kidnapped and forced to work for some mysterious men in a human test lab.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716826887

Book preview

(1973-2018)

Prologue

It was the year 2008 when the Pwani Republican Council resurfaced. Over a decade before, the group was formed to combat discrimination against what they termed as unfair treatment by the government of Kenya. After the war, which saw the British Colonial Army flushed out of the country, the subsequent government often overlooked the region's politics and economics. Historical injustices needed to be settled. Rebels from six coastal counties ignored threats by the government and registered themselves as a political party. The news did not sit well with the then Minister of Internal Security, Mr. Saitoti. He declared the council a criminal sect and led the charge for their dissolution.

A bitter court battle ensued in the latter half of 2008. The judge’s ruling stated that the council operated as a crime syndicate and should be deregistered with immediate effect. That decision dealt them a major blow, but they refused to concede defeat. Leaders of the council used the court verdict as grounds to pursue secession from the State and form what would become known as the Pwani Republic. At first, they operated silently, but soon the dream lost momentum following the court case. The council slowly weakened, dropping to less than 20 members by the beginning of 2010.

Secession seemed to be a lost cause when only five members remained. The original leaders had all retired from the group one by one, fearing Mr. Saitoti would make good on his threat to convict them of treason. The remaining few, however, never abandoned the dream. True to their mission, they switched tactics and reignited the revolution. The strategy was to develop a solid game plan which would provide sound leadership and propel them towards their new republic.

The group started by holding small meetings with disgruntled farmers in the coast who were forcefully evicted from their prime pieces of land. They passionately communicated their vision and promised to recapture the land for the people. Excitement grew among the farmers as many agreed to join the movement. The interesting thing about the plan was its self-fulfilling nature. They did not need to take the message to everyone, just a chosen few. Throughout the coastal region, word travelled like wildfire. Day after day, they appealed to hundreds more and by mid-2011, their numbers rose to more than 5,000 people.

The leaders of the movement became known as the ‘Wahenga Clan’ in reference to their profound wisdom and courage. One thing the farmers were oblivious to, though, was the string of illegal activities that were being perpetuated. They portrayed a benevolent front while relating with the people, but behind their passionate speeches and promises of a peaceful utopia stood a gang of criminals, who were out for power and wealth. Nevertheless, as days went by, they recruited more supporters who wholeheartedly followed them. Moreso when they decided to form the Pwani Republican Army (PRA) in 2012.

The army consisted of coastal farmers, local gang members and the unemployed youth. They had a simple aim; drive out anyone from Bara, i.e. anyone who didn’t hail from the coast. And as the unwelcome aliens left, more people joined the movement. That year, hundreds of families fled to the mainland. The PRA embarked on a mission to pillage and set fire to their houses. Thousands of innocent people abandoned their family homes, but the police could do little to help: the army had grown too powerful. The situation worsened to the point where if the police arrested a group of six in one day, the next morning sixty gangsters would return to burn down the police station and free their comrades.

In the months leading to the 2013 general elections, the Wahenga Clan vied for political positions. It was inevitable following their increasing popularity. Their plan to restore land to their rightful owners earned them a cult like status in the newly formed Pwani Republican Movement. Yet it wasn’t their main motivation: it was only a ruse. Their ambition was driven far more by self-interest than the welfare of the people. Through a series of campaigns, all five members of the clan rallied support from thousands of their followers. Unbeknownst to the public, the PRA worked side by side with them to threaten and eliminate influential opponents. In the eyes of the nation, they were just a group of strong-willed individuals with the determination and a drive to bring development to their counties. They were clueless about the murders and thefts they committed.

After the election in May, the clan members clinched gubernatorial positions in Taita-Taveta, Lamu, Kilifi, Kwale, and Tana River counties. Their failure to nominate a popular candidate to run for the Mombasa seat spelled their only defeat. These wins were instrumental to the advancements of their cause and once again, the movement openly pursued secession, although this time they had the pockets of the treasury at their disposal. As expected, the national government resisted through every possible avenue. The rebranded Pwani Republican Movement was once again involved in major lawsuits. In 2014, they fought on two fronts: court battles with the national government, and gun wars with the police. As the chaos drew longer, their government sponsored war chest was frozen after the governors failed to justify the need for such exorbitant cash distributions to their counties. Something had to be done before they ran completely bankrupt.

In a meeting held in Kwale in 2015, all five governors settled on the idea of calling for a secession referendum through their goons in parliament. It was important for them to stay away from the limelight to avoid public scrutiny. The only way to pass a referendum motion was to get a unanimous vote in the senate and a two-third majority vote in parliament. Senate proceedings moved along smoothly at first. The only problem was that the Mombasa senator opposed the idea of forming a new nation. Her vote was the sole barrier to the referendum.

For two years, various secession motions were read and dismissed at the lower house. At one point they even thought of leaving without Mombasa, but it meant conceding a major port. So Wahenga resorted to Plan B: A plan so secret, only a handful of people knew it in its entirety. It demanded that the PRA be divided into different cells spread among the five counties for a clandestine mission. To a commoner it appeared to be small-scale terrorism, but the story of the PRA uprising is more than meets the eye. Outsiders could not see the connection between the Wahenga clan and the illegal activities of the PRA.

Fast forward to 2017, the General Elections are approaching. All the talks of secession have calmed. The people of the coast want to move past violence and start afresh. A glance at the opinion polls gives none of the governors any hope of re-election. Millions of Shillings have been looted and now the Clan members, through the PRA, are organizing for one final attempt at forming the long-awaited Pwani Republic. Only this time, no one sees it coming and no one knows the nature or magnitude of what lies ahead.

Somewhere in the crosshairs of the final secession battle emerges a biologist who stumbles upon the PRA’s masterplan and uncovers its main perpetrators. The details of the plan were so meticulously laid out, no one suspected anything. The government of Kenya mistook silence for weakness. But one man figures out that the PRA needs to be stopped and it requires more than an army to do it. He sets out to report to the National Intelligence Service (NIS), but first, he has to convince one man of his findings. The following is the account of Dr Haridi on the events that preceded the bloodiest crisis in the history of Kenya in a letter to the Director of Public Prosecutions.

Chapter 1: The Kidnapping

June 12, 2017

Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions,

Nairobi,

Kenya.

Dear Sir,

I regret the circumstances that have led me to write to you. The blood of our people is being auctioned in our own backyard. And without your intervention, we will be forced to dig our own graves and those of our children in just a matter of months. Somehow, I feel partly to blame for the impending catastrophe. So, for what it’s worth, I will tell you everything I know.

My name is Tawa Haridi, an independent researcher in the field of Biomedical engineering. Five months ago, I was contracted by Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Laikipia. They were forming a task force with the aim of saving the endangered Northern White Rhinoceros species from total extinction. My job was to create an internal system that protected the rhinos from poaching. There were only five left in the world. The wildlife service created a sanctuary for them around the Aberdare Ranges and upon retiring from various zoos in Europe and the Americas, the two males were shipped back to Kenya. They joined three younger females at the conservancy.

By now you must be wondering what the hell rhinos have to do with a potential massacre. This is where the story starts. It is an important part in understanding the danger ahead. I was specifically assigned to the older male, Sudan, to find a system that would protect it in the wild. This research led me to learn about the rare connective tissue disease, Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva, simply known as Stoneman Disease. It is a condition where human flesh gradually hardens into bone. In fact, it is so rare that only about 500 people in the world have it, including eight Kenyans as we speak. All eight of them are men who reside along the Kano plains next to Lake Victoria. The disease stems from a genetic mutation, meaning the children of an infected person stand a 50% chance of developing it. As the patients grow, their flesh hardens and joints fuse to create a literal human statue! Back in 2006, a group of brilliant scientists discovered the gene responsible for this horrible disease — ACVR1. It then became the perfect candidate for my attempts to protect Sudan.

As ridiculous as it may sound, my plan was to infect the rhinoceros with Stoneman Disease. Simple as that, although not exactly. I wanted to engineer a weakened version of the ACVR1 gene in a lab and expose it to gamma rays. The resulting potion would then be injected into Sudan along with a serum that stops the joints from fusing. If it worked, the rhinoceros’ flesh would be impenetrable to bullets, it would shield its joints from fusion, and Sudan would be free to roam the grasslands of Laikipia unsupervised.

Within forty-eight hours of administering the mutated protein, his flesh began solidifying. First the hump, then it spread to the limbs, and by sunrise the next day it hardened the whole body. And much to my excitement, his limbs still functioned properly.

The whole conservation team at Ol Pejeta was thrilled. Several colleagues urged me to make the discovery public. Within weeks of publishing the research, I received nominations for the Worldwide Nature Fund award and the Tusk Conservation Award. These two organizations propelled my discovery into such an unimaginable level of popularity within the wildlife community. However, nothing compared to the Nobel committee reviewing my work for a Chemistry Prize nomination. It allowed the story to make its way into mainstream media. For that I ended up taking home both the Nature Fund and Tusk awards and crossed my fingers for a possible Nobel Prize nomination.

Publishing that paper was my first mistake.

At 6:30 a.m., one Friday in April, an awful surprise awaited me. My consultancy at the conservancy had ended, and I took another job in Nairobi. The organization placed me in a single bedroom house in a little neighborhood called Jamhuri. As I sat on my bed that morning, a wave of anxiety hit my body. I felt uneasy for reasons I could not explain. My heart pounded rapidly, but I