RUTO/ SANG/ MUTHAURA/ UHURU.
kenya.
My very dear wife n children,
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pressure—and it may be one of severe conflict and despicable sentence to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should land in the Hague for crimes I am accused of, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly Kenyan Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering in the post election violence. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain a sober Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with Ocampo’s will.
Swry, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet Ocampo comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the Hague.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little son—that I shall return to my loved ones unshamed and free. If I do not, my dear wife, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me in the Hague, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O swry! If the victims of trial can come back and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the brightest day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Swry, do not mourn me for being on trial; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys n gals, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Swry, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O swry, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Loving hubby.,
RUTO/ SANG/ MUTHAURA/ UHURU.
