🚨 Here is the full 42 minutes of my crew and I exposing Minnesota fraud, this might be my most important work yet. We uncovered over $110,000,000 in ONE day. Like it and share it around like wildfire! Its time to hold these corrupt politicians and fraudsters accountable
We ALL work way too hard and pay too much in taxes for this to be happening, the fraud must be stopped.
Curious to learn more about CECOT?
Hear Juan, Andry, and Wilmer share firsthand how the Trump administration branded them as gang members without evidence and deported them to the brutal El Salvadoran prison. https://t.co/M0axYtHxYm
Ten years after Africa Uncensored first told this story, we return to ask, what happens when justice is delayed, when poison lingers, and when the state looks away? Watch #UpInSmoke now on Africa Uncensored’s YouTube channel: https://t.co/Ap7BW2ST8I
This documentary lives rent free in my head. I’ve heard inhuman stories but this, this one was something else!
Eyes of the Devil by Patryk Vega
https://t.co/5pm5sNcLAd
You all remember the events of May 2005, when First Lady Lucy Kibaki walked into the newsroom and slapped Clifford Derrick, then working at KTN?
Long before it was fashionable to stand up to the First Family, Clifford Derrick walked to the Central Police Station filed a formal complaint with the police, charging Lucy Kibaki with assault and calling for her arrest.
It marked a watershed moment for the CNN Journalist of the Year, who has today written a critical think piece responding to Gitobu Imanyara's article on Saba Saba Day.
It will save your life.
_________________________
SABA SABA, MEMORY, AND THE GHOSTS WE MUST NAME: A RESPONSE TO GITOBU IMANYARA
BY CLIFFORD DERRICK
Gitobu Imanyara’s response to Raila Odinga’s Saba Saba statement deserves engagement — not because it is fully correct, but because it reflects a persistent failure to confront the deeper ghosts haunting Kenya’s body politic.
Imanyara claims to speak on behalf of “the thousands who bled and still bleed for freedom.” Yet, ironically, his rejoinder misreads the very nature of struggle he helped wage: as if injustice collapses in a single act, as if those who negotiated change yesterday owe us silence today, and — most tellingly — as if the historical architecture of exclusion and plunder can be erased merely by invoking the 2010 Constitution.
At the heart of Imanyara’s argument — and many others like it — lies an unspoken assumption: that the real battle today is procedural, not structural; that we only need to enforce existing laws, not to interrogate the foundations of our state. But this assumption collapses under even modest scrutiny of Kenya’s history.
From independence, the Kenyan state was captured by a small elite concentrated in the Mount Kenya region, particularly the so-called Kiambu mafia. This group not only sought to prevent Jaramogi Oginga Odinga and the Luo community from ever ascending to the presidency, but also marginalized other communities — including Imanyara’s own Meru — in favor of a tight circle of Kikuyu power brokers.
During Jomo Kenyatta’s 15 years in office, massive land grabbing, political assassinations, secret oathings against the Odingas and Luos, and the systematic diversion of public resources to the Mount Kenya region became entrenched. Even ministries like Finance and the Central Bank, critical to economic life, became fiefdoms of this elite. There was no mass protest then — because power and plunder served the interests of those in control.
When Moi succeeded Kenyatta, he tried to wrest these privileges back to the center. In response, a coup attempt was staged in 1982 — and when it failed, Moi became more authoritarian, largely under pressure from Mount Kenya elites who could not imagine being shut out of the spoils. This is the same pattern we see today: a coordinated campaign to destabilize William Ruto barely two years into his term — just as they did to Moi — because he canceled entrenched contracts and brought in Raila Odinga, the man they once swore to keep from power.
Indeed, it is no accident that Raila’s inclusion in national politics — and his community’s long-denied access to critical ministries like Treasury — has provoked this hostility. Dialogue threatens to unmask the skewed resource allocation, the land injustices, the political betrayals, and the hidden wealth amassed through decades of exclusionary governance.
When Moi faced opposition in the early 1990s, it was Raila whom these same elites called upon to connect them back to Jaramogi, and together they pushed for multi-partyism through Ford. But again, they betrayed him, split the party, and denied him leadership. Later, Raila worked with Kibaki to unseat Moi in 2002 — and again found himself sidelined. Kibaki and Uhuru Kenyatta then ruled uninterrupted for another 20 years — and yet not once did the Mount Kenya elite stage the kind of protests we see them fuelling now against Ruto.
Why? Because their interests were secure.
Now that Ruto has disrupted their hold and invited Raila — the son of the man they swore to block — to the table, they are furious. That is why Imanyara opposes dialogue. Because dialogue, if honest, would expose this entire architecture of exclusion, plunder, and betrayal.
Imanyara asks why Raila wants dialogue when “young people don’t eat referenda.” But young people also don’t eat bullets, and yet they march for dignity. Politics is not reducible to bread alone. In South Africa — a country where even the world’s most admired constitution could not alone heal the past — President Cyril Ramaphosa is currently crafting a framework for national dialogue to deal with some structural unresolved problems. This suggests that dialogue is not weakness but wisdom.
Frantz Fanon reminds us that the postcolonial bourgeoisie often prefers to inherit the colonial structure rather than dismantle it. That is what we are witnessing: a class that fears accountability, clinging to its inherited privilege, using prominent legal experts like Imanyara to sanitize their resistance to reckoning.
So yes — let us prosecute the killers, let us pay reparations, let us enforce the law. But let us also confront the original sins of this republic. If we only scratch the surface, the ghosts will remain — and the house will burn again.
Imanyara warns Raila that “history will judge his autumn choices.” True. But history will also judge those who, whether out of bitterness or complicity, help to erase the story of Kenya’s real betrayals while pretending to speak for the victims.
Raila Odinga has never claimed perfection. But neither has he abandoned his post. He still stands where he has always stood: on the side of those whom the state brutalizes, and against the elite bargains that demand silence in exchange for scraps.
This is not merely about him. It is about whether Kenya can finally look itself in the mirror.
We can only heal if we are brave enough to name the ghosts. Dialogue is the first step in exorcising them.
And That’s the Inside Story
Clifford Derrick is a columnist, political commentator, investigative journalist, strategic commentator and documentary filmmaker whose work examines truth, power, history, and the struggle for justice. He writes at the intersection of politics, knowledge, philosophy, and human rights.