I do not apologise for who I am

Orie Rogo-Manduli is known to speak her mind without fear or favour. For that reason, she has clashed with even the mightiest in Kenya, and her courage is visible in the way she is not easily cowed. She takes on the world with sheer force and style, attributes that define her personality. She spoke to SHIRLEY GENGA.I’m rebellious, capable and different, and I know it. I have never wanted to be anything else but Orie Rogo-Manduli. I’m bold and speak my mind without fear. I’m fastidious and never boring. I do not apologise for who I am — you just have to learn to live with me. I have always been an outspoken person who is never afraid to be different.
My father was ahead of his time and, apart from drilling into us the importance of education, he encouraged my outspoken nature by seeking my opinion on issues. I’m the first born of eight children (four girls and four boys) so you can imagine my life (laughs), so for me being first in everything I do has always been second nature.

Orie Rogo-Manduli

My background was very humble; I grew up in the slums of Kisumu (Kaloleni to be exact), but my mum turned the house into our home, a place where we always felt safe and wanted. She kept it beautiful and clean. She baked, cooked, cleaned and even sewed our clothes and dad’s shirts and socks. She was a super mum.
My mother made our home so welcoming that, despite being eight children, there were always people visiting and sleeping over — from relatives to young girls and boys who my parents ‘adopted’ in order to take to school. Back then, some parents did not understand the importance of educating their children, leave alone girls. You educate a woman and you educate a whole nation, so whenever my parents would identify a bright girl or boy who wanted to finish school, they would adopt them. Our home was like a hotel where no one paid (laughs).
My parents were both teachers and they were very strict with me. They always told me that as the first-born, I was the family’s mirror and thus if I succeeded, then my siblings would succeed too, so I worked hard to always be top in school.
Growing up, I was the ultimate daddy’s girl. My father made me feel like I was not only the most brilliant and beautiful girl in the world, but that I could do anything if only I dreamt it and worked hard. He taught me from the time I was a little girl that both girls and boys were equal, that none was better than the other.
Waste of lifeHe was my greatest influence. In our home, no one was more superior to the other — we were all equal. He taught me many lessons but the one that I still preach even today is that education is for life; that a woman should own property and not just dream of owning by association to a male. Young girls today only aspire to be successful by association. I wonder, why don’t you have your own success? Why do you want to piggyback on someone else’s success?
Some people are content to just leech on the successes of others. To me, that is a waste of life. Get your own act; that is my policy. Stop this tag-along type of success. Don’t claim success by association; don’t live off the successes of others.
No matter what was going on in my life, I always knew dad and mum would support me. When dad died in 1977 due to high blood pressure, my life literally came to a standstill. For a while I had no focus because he had been my focus; he had been so wise. Whenever I think of him I still have tears in my eyes; he was truly a great man.
I first got married when I was 16 years old and it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. During my wedding, I remember watching my parents cry but they were not tears of joy. I now know that sometimes as a parent, you can only watch what your children are doing and pray things will work out. My marriage ended up being very chaotic. I gave birth to my eldest daughter when I was barely 17 and the next two followed in quick succession.
Because I was very young, all my births were through Caesarean section. I only had girls and that made my husband become abusive. He made me and my babies feel inferior and unloved. He would constantly tell me he had no child; that having three daughters was a curse and that people were laughing at him. He was both physically and emotionally abusive, but as he was much older, he was manipulative and I stayed with him because society expected me to. I suffered in silence.
The day the abuse moved from me to my children, something in me snapped. It was the final straw. I remember thinking, ‘you can mistreat me but not my babies’. I told him, "Did you say I can’t have a son? Then go get your son because my three babies are all I have."
I took my children and walked out, not knowing where to go. I was a young mother with three babies on her back and no financial assistance from my ex-husband. I had to toil day and night to take care of my children, juggling between a strenuous full-time job and a couple of part-time jobs.
My parents did not have much but they supported me emotionally, psychologically and socially. Sometimes this is all a woman needs to move on and rise.
I had already acquired the reputation of being rebellious and I wanted to prove to everybody that I could take care of my children on my own. Before my divorce, I had watched one of my aunts go through a painful divorce. She sunk into depression and self-pity and I did not want that to happen to me because I knew such emotions had a way of spilling on to the children.

Orie Rogo-Manduli

My aunt struggled financially and socially. I decided to hold my head up and worked three jobs to put my daughters through the best schools. During the day I was worked as the marketing and public relations manager at Metal Box Company, and in the evening I worked for KBC as an anchor for Mambo Leo, a current affairs programme.
It was a crazy time. I would carry a change of clothes for my job at KBC because, as the show’s hostess, I was expected to look pretty and sophisticated as the job often involved interviewing VIPs and other special guests.
I worked hard, and it was all worth it. My eldest daughter Elizabeth is an oil and gas engineer; my second daughter Alison owns a human resource organisation, while my third daughter Janice works for Kenya Pipeline in the communications department. My last born son Katyana is a computer engineer and linguistic expert in Japan.
Very flamboyantAfter my first marriage, I told my parents I would never get married again but they encouraged me to try again. In 1980, while filming a documentary for BBC in Lusaka on the late Joshua Nkomo, I met Misheck Norman Manduli, a descendant of the Lunda dynasty — one of Zambia’s royal families. He was 30 years older than me but he was more dapper. He was a great traveller and dresser. He was an extrovert and very flamboyant.
When we met it was fireworks. We were perfect for each other. Because he was older, he was more mature and confident. He understood me and encouraged me to be me. His first wife, Mary, had died and he had gotten married a second time but the marriage did not work out. Then he met me.
We got married in 1980 and instantly created a large family — I had three children and he had seven. Interestingly, I was only a couple of years older than his first daughter and we hit it off and became the best of friends. Our home was wonderful and loving, full of warmth and laughter. Our children mingled beautifully. We were blessed with a son (Katyana) in 1983. My first husband had always said I would never bear a son yet here I was, with a baby boy.
The Zambians have a wonderful culture of respect, where both the husband and the wife are attentive to each other and the family. My husband passed on in March 2, 2003. I have remained single ever since. Replacing Norman is not easy — he was a great husband, father, friend, business partner and fellow dreamer.