Former Vihiga Deputy Governor now hawks firewood to survive

Deep in Luanda town, Vihiga County, one trader draws quiet stares, not because of the goods he sells, but because of the life he once led.

Known in his prime for cruising in high-end, fuel-guzzling vehicles and being flanked by a retinue of bodyguards, Caleb Amaswache was once the second most powerful man in Vihiga County. Today, the county’s inaugural Deputy Governor ekes out a living as a firewood vendor.

For the past few years, residents passing by his modest roadside stall have whispered in disbelief. Their hushed tones and subtle pointing often carry the same refrain: “That man was once the Deputy Governor of this county.”

Between 2013 and 2017, Amaswache served under then-Governor Moses Akaranga.

At the time, he moved with flashing lights, chase cars, and a full security detail. Residents marvelled at his rise and would queue outside his imposing office, clutching hope and eager to receive handouts or favours.

Those same residents, once required to book appointments and wait in corridors for an audience, are now his firewood customers.

Outside a weather-beaten wooden shed, a heap of firewood lies ready for sale. Here, Amaswache quietly serves customers, some of whom he once gifted Sh50 or Sh100 notes when political tokenism was the norm.

He hawks firewood to survive, spending most of his days in Luanda, where, on a good day, he makes approximately Sh200.

Now 59, Amaswache says the humble trade gives him a reason to rise each morning.

“It’s not much, but it pays one or two bills here and there,” he says.

Amaswache describes the firewood business as unpredictable.

“The firewood market has seasons. Right now, it’s dry, so women go to the forest to fetch firewood, which makes business slow,” he explains.

“It’s better when you’re supplying to a big company like Mudete Tea Factory. But when selling locally, I can only make about Sh200 a day,” he adds.

Fall from grace

His fall from grace began in 2017, when Governor Akaranga dropped him as running mate and opted for the late Dr Joseph Imbunya, a Botswana-based medic from Hamisi. Akaranga went on to lose the gubernatorial race to ODM’s Dr Wilber Ottichilo.

For Amaswache, life after office has been humbling.

“I admit it’s been a tough journey. I can’t afford to pay bills or school fees for my children. Nothing has really picked up for me since I left office,” he says.

He points to his daughter, a former student at Pangani Girls who scored an A- in her Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE). She has been placed at a university that he says is far too expensive. “I have to do this job because my daughter needs to go to university. I need over Sh200,000 to get her admitted,” Amaswache says.

He laments the current university funding model, which he says is not favourable for his daughter. “I once sold many of our household items and even sold my Toyota Kluger to pay for my other daughter’s tuition at the Kenya School of Law,” he adds.

So how did a former powerful deputy governor fall to such a state?

Amaswache was born in Chekalini, Kakamega County, in 1966. He began his education at Koromaiti Primary School, then moved to Lumakanda and later Kolanya Boys High School.

In 1987, he joined the National Youth Service before enrolling at the University of Nairobi, where he pursued a degree in Political Science and History.

He began his career as a teacher at Ekwanda Secondary School before securing a position as a junior administrative assistant at Maseno University. He rose through the ranks to become a senior administrator before leaving in 2000.

That same year, he joined the Kenya Constitution Review Commission as a technical expert under Prof. Yash Pal Ghai, where he served until June 2006.

He later worked as a Constituency Office Manager for then-Emuhaya MP Kenneth Marende.

When Dr Wilber Ottichilo succeeded Marende, Amaswache was dismissed.

“It’s then that I met Akaranga. We became good friends, and eventually, he appointed me as his running mate in 2013,” Amaswache recalls.

He admits that some of his decisions, and the comfort that came with the job, may have contributed to his current situation. “As deputy governor, life was good, allowances, security, foreign trips. But that was then. Now, it’s about survival,” he said.

Defence and denial

Amaswache strongly denies accusations that his downfall was due to a lavish, party-filled lifestyle.

He insists he was never corrupt. “I never stole anything when I was deputy governor. That’s why you’ve never seen me investigated after leaving office,” he says.

On claims of extravagance, he maintains he simply used his salary to support others. “Those saying I loved partying aren’t entirely wrong, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying life, but I also used some of my resources to support those in need,” he adds.

All he has left from his time in power are portraits of him with top government officials, now hanging on the walls of his firewood stall, serving as reminders of both glory and loss.

Amaswache is a father of four, two sons and two daughters, who are still trying to find their footing in the job market. He says he received a gratuity upon leaving office, but most of it went toward paying off loans.

He believes leaders who serve even one term deserve a pension. “No one wants to employ former leaders. Only the President can help,” he laments.

His attempts to return to public service have been unsuccessful.“No one is willing to employ me, only the President can. Former leaders are suffering out here after serving in government because no one wants to hire them,” he laments.

A message for leaders

He warns current leaders to stay humble: “Today you’re in power; tomorrow you may be out, and people won’t answer your calls.” In 2015, he faced impeachment over alleged intoxication on an official trip to Singapore. Though he denied deportation, sources claimed he was blacklisted.

Former colleagues recall him as a man of the people who lived large during early devolution.

However, some attribute his financial troubles to mismanaging salary and loans, with rumours he earned a nil salary due to overdrafts.

Friends are appealing for support. Trader Elvis Ambani describes him as “a man on a mission to right his wrongs,” adding, “He wakes up early to sell firewood. He knows where it went wrong and wants to fix it.”