Guns, politics and the law have always been the best known loves of John Harun Mwau – until he added a fourth last month: linguistics.

Whatever Mwau chooses to put his mind on, however, it is always done with fanfare, aplomb and ceremony.

Eight months after his third attempt to enter Parliament failed, the former police marksman has become a publisher, and his first offering? The first Kamba-English Dictionary, printed by Guardian Printers. Of course, the bill ended up on the tycoon's desk at the KTDA Plaza in Nairobi.

Mwau has not been in the news much since last year's election – except once when he relinquished his Kanu national vice-chairmanship. He explains his absence from the public eye thus: "I have been busy trying to complete the Kamba-English dictionary. It was a tedious job that took up much of my time."

"I had to take a deserved rest after last year's political experience. In life you never call it quits until it is over." On his desk, there are sheets of plain paper on which he occasionally scribbles to emphasise a point: "There is always something that one can do to keep himself going," says Mwau.

Released in July, the 422-page Kamba-English dictionary presents a wide range of Kamba vocabulary and popular proverbs.

"The compilation of indigenous language dictionaries has for a long time been the preserve of Western scholars and missionaries. But in most of these aspects, the true meanings have been distorted or misrepresented," Mwau argued. 

He says: "We know that languages are dynamic, gradually changing over time. The rapid increase in knowledge opens up new avenues of thought, hence creating new words and fresh meanings." 

"Our languages are a matrix within which we can forge our indigenous economic and political standpoints in the present day and age." 

The dictionary has indicated sources of 'borrowed' words, and has also highlighted those that may have more than one meaning and cross-references provided.

Tobias Mutua, a book buyer, says the story of the African has yet to be written, "hence in the preparation of a work like this, one factor comes to the fore, that the people’s oral testimony is a writer’s greatest resource".

"I see it as a vital resource in the preservation of Kamba culture that will form a platform for further intellectual exploits," says Mutua.

For a while now, Mwau has been obsessed with shoring up the fortunes of his Kamba tribesmen. Three years ago, he spent a substantial amount of money organising political seminars for the Kamba. The seminars were held in sessions, and every calibre of Kamba – from matatu touts and the watchmen to top politicians – attended. And each one went away with some pocket allowance.

At some point, Mwau advertised jobs whose purpose was to identify and solve problems in the area inhabited by the Kamba.

Then he ventured into an ambitious project to provide water to Kambas. He visited several constituencies sinking boreholes and rehabilitating ‘dead’ ones while spending huge amount of money. 

Lawyer Peter Musembi argues, however, that the dictionary is likely to benefit non-Kambas more since the indigenous speakers of the primary language have yet to know English. Mwau says the book is meant to help people eager to learn Kikamba but who have not had the chance to do so.

He says he has been encouraged by the enthusiasm and warmth of spirit of the people as he worked on the book. He went deep into the villages to seek the assistance of old men well-versed in local idiom, vocabulary and dialect, among them Mzee Kimwele Johnson, Peter Kasuva, Kala wa Nthuku, David Mutunga Waita, Nzyoka Maele, Onesmus Musyoka Wambua, Beatrice Mutu, Rael Kaveke, Joel Munyasia Kiamba and Peter Nthunga.

Mwau is at home with detail. Renowned for his legal hairsplitting, he once went to court in 1992 to demand the nullification of President Moi's election because he did not present his nomination on foolscap.

He lost the case, but it did not dim his fascination with the law. Inside Mwau's office, dozens of law books line the shelves. And conversation with the politician and businessman is never short of legal phrases, authorities and citations.

His interest in the law notwithstanding, Mwau is no lawyer. His says his personal training in life has helped to bring him to par with lawyers and successful business people in Kenya.

"To be a success story in life, one has to think, grow and get rich," Mwau says, echoing the slogan that brought his Party of Independent Candidates of Kenya when he ran for the presidency in 1992. Mwau says that he lives the philosophy of that slogan.

It is his way of explaining how he rose from a miserable childhood of extreme poverty to a man of means and influence.

Mwau is clearly uncomfortable discussing his past, and the kind of family he comes from.

"My parents were poor; so poor that affording a meal was a rarity," he says. Their house was a shack. "I had no room to sleep in, I remember I used to sleep in a cattleshed with the animals. I was so used to the animals that when they were not with me I always felt cold," he adds.

With this tale of sadness, it is unlikely that Mwau’s academic dreams were ever fulfilled. Sometime in 1968, Mwau got wind of a recruitment exercise by the Kenya police and left his village in Kilungu in search of employment. His recruitment as a recruit marked the turning point of his life.

During his training at Kiganjo Police Training College, Mwau easily distinguished himself as sharp shooter. Ali Said was an inspector when Mwau undertook his training in Kiganjo, and recalls: "He was sharp and fast in grasping lessons. It was no wonder that, within a few months of training he had distinguished himself as one of the best on-target sharpshooters that Kiganjo had ever produced." 

Said, now retired, talks of a dedicated young man who did not want to leave anything to chance. 

After his graduation as a police constable, Mwau joined the force’s shooting team and within a short time had earned his place as Kenya’s number one sharp shooter.

That same year, Mwau became the first black man to take part in a shooting competition at the Olympics in Mexico.

Mwau is a bomb disposal expert and a member of the International Association of Bombers Technicians and Investigators. That membership, he explains, means he can be called upon to detonate bombs planted anywhere.

"For instance, when inside an aeroplane and there is a bomb, the first question always asked is whether there is a member of IABT on board."

In the 2000-2001 edition of the IABT Directory, Mwau’s name appears on page 239 – listed as one of the three IABT members in Africa. The others come from South Africa and Uganda.

His shooting exploits saw him brush shoulders with the rich and mighty. Today, he himself can be counted among the country's wealthiest individuals.

How he got his riches has for long been a subject of debate. The questions raised about Mwau's wealth have not escaped his attention:

"I am aware of people saying that my riches came from selling drugs. Others attribute my success to corruption. But one thing that I like telling Kenyans is that Mwau’s name is pure clean. Never will you catch me in dirty dealings. Time will prove me right or wrong," he says.

But that is as far as Mwau will go in discussing the origin of his wealth. What is left is sheer conjecture. It has been claimed that Mwau ran errands for former head of the criminal investigations department, Ignatius Nderi, during the 1970s when coffee was being smuggled from Uganda into Kenya. In those days, police escorts used to come in handy in the illegal border trade.

These speculations receive no more than a dismissive bellyful of laughter when mentioned to Mwau. He says he worked for every cent he has.

His day starts at 4 am. "This has been the trend for so many years. I wake up early, looking for opportunities and opening up avenues that can assist me to stay afloat in this competitive world," he says.

But making money is not an end in itself for Mwau. Flashing it around completes the picture.

He is also a heavy spender, and during his tenure as the first head of the Kenya Anti-Corruption Authority, Mwau used his personal resources to set up offices.

The 2001 Kilome parliamentary by-election, Mwau staged his campaigns for his Pick candidate using satellite phones, powerful radios and vehicles that aroused a lot of jealousy among his opponents.

Mwau has no qualms about being a bully if helps him to achieve his goals. "When you are given an opportunity to excel don’t take chances, always show your competitor that there is always a surprise up your sleeve," he says. 

Despite expending great resources on his political ambition and failing repeatedly, Mwau is not bitter about his losses.

"Life has taught me a lot," he says, stroking his great white beard. "One of the greatest lessons is that winning and losing is part of reality. You lose and still come to fight another day. There is time for everything. Life is full of surprises."

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