Betrayed by Friends: The Political Assassination of George Thuo

George Thuo’s rise to prominence began quietly amidst the gritty chaos of Nairobi’s early mornings… Long before political intrigue stained his legacy, he was a simple but ambitious man, starting each dawn among the diesel fumes and throaty roars of engines at Nairobi’s bustling bus terminals… As manager of City Hopper, his days were spent in the clamor of touts shouting destinations… Nairobi to Nakuru, Thika to Eldoret… hawkers weaving through idle buses with trays of mandazi, samosas, and steaming chai… conductors exchanging swift, sharp banter… Yet beneath this noisy symphony, Thuo was calmly orchestrating his ascent, his mind always calculating, his heart set on greater horizons… Known for his meticulous attention to schedules, he ensured buses ran like clockwork, earning him quiet admiration in a city where punctuality was rare…

Soon, the ambitious manager became the proud owner, turning City Hopper into one of Nairobi’s most reliable bus lines… The city knew Thuo by his signature style… well-cut suits tailored to perfection, sharp eyes always sizing up opportunities, and a booming laugh that resonated across the terminal, disarming even the gruffest of drivers… Those who knew him saw a man born for leadership, one who commanded loyalty from his staff… drivers spoke of his fairness, ensuring timely wages and bonuses for long routes… as much as respect from his rivals… His ability to mediate disputes with a single, authoritative word made him a local legend, a man who turned chaos into order…

It wasn’t long before his reputation drew him to politics… In 2007, he confidently contested the Juja parliamentary seat, taking on entrenched political giants in a Kenya roiled by pre-election tensions… His charisma was infectious, his campaign energized by grassroots support… market women chanting his name in Gikomba, youth plastering posters across Juja’s dusty streets… and galvanized by sheer determination… Against all odds, he triumphed, securing a position that catapulted him into the corridors of power, where the air was thick with ambition, whispered deals, and the weight of a nation grappling with post-election violence scars…

Inside Parliament, Thuo flourished… As Chief Parliamentary Whip, he navigated turbulent political waters with the deftness of a seasoned sailor… His speeches were fiery, laced with wit and conviction, often quoting Swahili proverbs to connect with the masses… yet he remained affable, maintaining friendships across the political spectrum… Colleagues recalled his ability to defuse tense debates with a well-timed joke, his deep voice cutting through the chamber’s din… But power bred envy, and beneath the polished smiles of parliamentary comrades lurked hidden resentment, like shadows creeping at dusk, fueled by Juja’s lucrative development projects he championed…

November 17, 2013, began with deceptive normality… The afternoon sun dipped low as Thuo, comfortably ensconced in his plush Juja home… its walls adorned with family photos, mementos of his victories, and a framed map of Juja’s planned infrastructure… casually called his close friend Paul Wainaina Boiyo, proprietor of Porkies Club in Thika… Thuo’s voice was light and jovial, mentioning plans to watch the evening’s Formula One race, a shared passion that often brought them together over cold beers… Boiyo’s hearty laughter echoed through the receiver, warmly confirming the night’s rendezvous, promising a cold Tusker and their usual banter about Ferrari’s chances…

Nightfall brought Thuo to Porkies Club… a lively haven that pulsed rhythmically beneath neon lights… The scent of roasted pork mingled enticingly with cigarettes and alcohol, while laughter rang out from patrons clustered around tables, their voices rising above the hum of Thika’s nightlife… Boiyo greeted Thuo with a broad smile and a warm handshake, guiding him through the smoky haze to their usual corner table, where the leather seats bore the faint wear of countless nights, a testament to their long friendship…

Joining them was Thuo’s trusted aide, Christopher Lumbasio Andika, his expression relaxed but eyes alert, scanning the room like a hawk, ever mindful of his boss’s safety in a politically charged climate… DJs Andrew Karanja Wainaina and Samuel Kuria Ngugi, known affectionately as Visi, kept the energy high, their beats… Afrobeats blending seamlessly with classic Benga… vibrating through the very bones of patrons… Waitress Esther Ndinda Mulinge, slender and graceful, weaved expertly through the crowd, balancing trays with practiced ease, her smile a fixture of the club’s warmth, her quick wit a favorite among regulars…

Into this carefully crafted scene of camaraderie entered Ruth Vanessa Irungu, known as Atlanta… a frequent patron, captivating in her charm, her presence like a spark in the dim light, her reputation as a socialite whispering through Thika’s rumor mill… Approaching Thuo with a smile that held secrets, she greeted him warmly, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace later described chillingly by prosecutors as a “Judas kiss,” a betrayal cloaked in affection, calculated to disarm…

“A drink for my favorite MP,” she purred softly, setting a chilled Tusker Lite before him, its condensation sliding slowly down the glass, catching the neon glow… Thuo raised it, sipping casually, oblivious to the lethal secrets swirling silently within, the liquid glinting with malice, laced with a poison undetectable to the untrained eye…

Minutes later, Thuo’s demeanor changed abruptly… His face glistened with sweat, discomfort flickering across his usually confident features, his hand clutching the table’s edge, his breathing labored… “I’m feeling strangely hot,” he murmured to Boiyo, his voice strained, a faint tremble betraying his confusion… Concern shadowed Boiyo’s face as he ushered his friend discreetly toward his private office, stripping off Thuo’s vest to cool him, fanning him with a folded newspaper, desperation creeping into his movements…

But beneath Thuo’s composed exterior, the poison… Cyhalothrine, a lethal pesticide used on farms, not humans… was already ravaging his system, mercilessly corroding his internal organs… The unseen assassin worked swiftly, its lethal purpose unmistakable, each heartbeat spreading the toxin further, attacking his liver and kidneys with ruthless precision… Collapsing, Thuo’s breath grew shallow, the world around him blurring into a terrifying haze, his vision dimming as voices faded into a distant echo…

An urgent rush to Thika Nursing Home ensued, panic rippling through the club… Patrons exchanged whispers and fearful glances, sensing tragedy, their drinks forgotten, the music now jarring… The doctors at Aga Khan Hospital solemnly pronounced him dead on arrival… a victim of a calculated murder, his life snuffed out in a matter of hours, his body revealing the brutal signature of poisoning during autopsy…

Investigations unveiled a sinister conspiracy shrouded in friendship… Six individuals… Boiyo, Lumbasio, DJs Karanja and Ngugi, waitress Esther, and Atlanta… stood accused… The trial stretched painfully over eleven long years, every detail meticulously examined, from bar receipts and CCTV footage to phone records and forensic reports, each piece a thread in a tangled web of deceit… Testimonies revealed Atlanta’s frequent visits to the club, her flirtations with Thuo, and whispers of a financial dispute tied to Juja’s land deals…

Justice Roslyn Korir, in a packed Milimani court, delivered her verdict: guilty… Her voice echoed sharply, piercing the heavy silence, “Poison is a chemical weapon, invisible but devastating…” The circumstantial evidence was overwhelming… the proximity, the opportunities, the silence of the accused, and forensic traces of Cyhalothrine in the glass… all converging towards guilt, a mosaic of betrayal painted in court, with motives linked to political rivalries and personal grudges…

Each of the six convicts faced 15 years behind bars… The courtroom erupted in whispers and gasps as reality set in… Some wept, others stared blankly, haunted by the magnitude of betrayal they had orchestrated, their lives now bound by the cold steel of prison bars, their names forever tied to a scandal that shook Juja…

In the aftermath, the wife to former Juja MP and joint government chief whip George Thuo is managing her late husband’s estate… Judy Wamaitha and her son… Ian Gichuhi… obtained letters of grant based on an application that indicated Thuo’s estate was only worth Sh200 million… An inventory attached to the application indicates that Thuo, the founder of City Hopper Bus Company and a man who was in the forefront presidential campaigns for former President Mwai Kibaki, only invested in real estate and shares in some local companies… None of the big cars Thuo drove when he was a chief whip or going round during political campaigns or bank accounts where he may have kept his money is in the list of his estate… Judy and Gichuhi were given powers in February 2017 by High Court Judge Aggrey Muchelule to manage the estate for the beneficiaries who include Thuo’s two daughters, Njeri and Ciru… who are still minors…

Thuo collapsed at Porkies Club in Thika before he was rushed to a nursing home then transferred to the Aga Khan Hospital in Nairobi where he was pronounced dead on November 18, 2013… Under the Law of Succession Act, Judy can still go back to court to include her late husband’s properties in the full and accurate inventory assets and liabilities of the deceased under Section 76, if she discovers other properties that belonged to her husband but were not included in the initial inventory… In the application for letters of grant filed through Njoroge Regeru and Company Advocates, Judy and her son attached an inventory that comprised parcels of land and shares in local companies but did not indicate if the former MP had any bank accounts, cars or other properties…

According to Judy, her late husband had mainly invested in Nairobi, Thika, Kiambu and Machakos… The man who loved white shirts had a piece of land in Kiambu municipality, Athi River, half an acre of land in Phase 2 Naivasha Garden and an apartment in Nairobi… He had also poured his money in shares such as 9,500 in Redline Limited, 950 Mikwika Investment Limited, Stalton 50 and Fanaka Merchants Limited 4…

George Thuo’s murder left behind a legacy marred by intrigue and betrayal… a tragic end to a life of ambition, achievement, and promise… His story became a chilling reminder of how friendship can mask treachery, and how the darkest threats often lurk closest to the heart, hidden in plain sight, in the clink of a glass or the warmth of an embrace…

And this… was another haunting chapter in the unfolding story of

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