When I took over KENDA- the Kenya National Democratic Alliance, it was a moribund party, only remembered by those who stayed up late to watch the 1992 election results, with the late Mukaru Ng'ang'a at the bottom of every page, finishing with a grand total of 8,500 votes. He was a good man, a man for the poor, so was Koigi Wamwere who briefly sojourned with KENDA in the 1997 election. It is this tradition of the politics of the poor that attracted me to this party, and I have resolved to do all I can with my wealth and wigour to lift up Kenya's poor.

But today is a sad day; the saddest day in my life. I sat there as my application was rejected. I cried for the first time in many years, not since my conversion have I been so emotional. Reality sets in; they are trying to talk to me now. Trying to explain that all they want is a process that ensures my papers are in order. I overhear some of the MPs claiming that I would not win too many votes out of Nairobi, or out of Parklands; and then suddenly they change their minds. I think I know what it is, they want that million shillings for the Secretariat. A million shillings to finance the two people's salaries for the next six months maybe. There's seven of us, so that will be seven million. I am a business man, and it makes no sense. But I am not one to argue, not today so I write the cheque, Wanjiku will understand. To fight the forces of evil, one must join up with them, fight them from within.

courage under fire

It is hard operating in these confines. My skin itches with the changes. I got used to buying everything I wanted. If I met anyone in my way, I would buy him, or else buy someone who could take care of the problem, but I am a changed man now. I will not bend, nor falter. I do not think I have anything to be ashamed of for being Asian. I am not even a Hindu anymore. They say it will be hard to sell me in their constituencies because I am uncircumcised, but I know that that is only an excuse. As the man I am named for would say, the only cut that matters is the cut in the heart, and when I bleed I am Kenya damu.

I have taught my children that we are all Kenyan; that color and race do not matter. I have taught them to respect the people of all faiths, and to work for the progress of all Kenyans. We have never discriminated in our assistance to the poor, we have given just as freely and with joy to anyone who has come to the numerous charity events we have sponsored and organized. As the records will show, even when I ran into my billions, I gave freely, including to such worthy causes as the National Committee of the Red Cross. I have suffered greatly for this country. The courts have hounded me for the past 15 years, even after they were unable to find anything against my good name. Frail and sick, I was chained to my hospital bed and housed in a dangerous prison with Kenya's worst criminals. All through that my faith in the Kenyan people has been steadfast, and it is to them that I now appeal. Let us move forward as one, neglecting the advice and the backward ways of the Council of Elders.

I stand before you asking for your vote, accused of being a foreigner, but every bit united in spirit with you.