The Chuka massacre, in which British and King’s African Rifles (KAR) soldiers brutally murdered 21 villagers, remains one of the most neglected atrocities committed during the Mau Mau period.
On June 13, 1953, B Company of the 5th KAR was dispatched to Chuka with orders to flush out Mau Mau insurgents hiding in the surrounding forests. Major Griffiths, the platoon commander, established a base camp from which he directed operations. The mission involved two platoons sweeping through the forest, while local Home Guards patrolled the forest boundaries and made arrests.
At the outset of the operation, two captured Mau Mau suspects were handed over to Major Griffiths by local police. These prisoners were intended to serve as guides to help identify their comrades. However, one of the captives refused to cooperate. In response, Griffiths ordered that a bayonet be used to pierce the man’s ear, after which a string was threaded through the wound, acting as a form of restraint for the next four days. The second captive suffered an even worse fate: Griffiths ordered his ear to be amputated, and shortly thereafter, the man was executed. Griffiths later claimed the prisoner was shot while trying to escape, although this justification remains highly questionable.
Over the next two days, the soldiers continued their mission, making significant arrests with the help of the Home Guards. However, on June 17, the operation took a gruesome turn. As a KAR patrol emerged from the forest and entered local farmlands, they encountered 12 men from Chief Petro’s location near the settlement of M’Withika. Following a dispute, the soldiers detained the men, sending two to fetch food from nearby homesteads while ordering the remaining ten to lie face down. The ten villagers were severely beaten before being escorted into the forest. By 4 p.m., the group had reached the KAR’s temporary camp. At sunset, all ten villagers were executed, one after the other. The victims were M’Baruthi Mugira, M’Bioki Mugira, Benjamin Mutegi, M’Baini M’Thara, Daniel Gaiounge, M’Renjeu M’Chanji, Nkanata M’Rambu, Alfred M’Ruaria Mutethia, M’Rithaa Kimaku, and M’Bauni Mburugu.
The following day, on June 18, the patrol encountered another group of villagers who had gathered to build a hut for a neighbor. The soldiers seized food from the group, and when the villagers protested, one man, Bore Kibiro, was shot dead near his home. The soldiers arrested ten more villagers, including a young boy, and led them into the forest. Between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m., all ten captives were killed, some by gunfire and others by bayoneting. The dead were Njeru Nyamu, Njagi Kibata, Borana Nderi, Mbuba Muthitu, Mbuba Kigundu, Muchiri Mucheke, Nkiria Kathumbe, M’Reri M’Riria, M’Bioki Murage, and Kange Mutegi.
On June 19, the original Mau Mau “guide,” who had been tethered by his ear for four days, was executed. The official report claimed he was shot while attempting to escape. With their grisly work completed, the soldiers returned to Nyeri.
In total, 21 villagers—mostly loyalists—along with two Mau Mau “guides” from Central Kenya, had been murdered. The incident was reported to local authorities, and autopsies were conducted by Dr. Irvine. Public outrage followed, and the matter reached Nairobi, prompting General Erskine, the newly appointed Commander-in-Chief, to call for a military inquiry on June 22. However, the findings of this inquiry were never made public. In a token gesture, the families of the 21 victims were each compensated with Ksh 2,000—a sum that, while significant at the time, was grossly inadequate for the scale of loss they endured.
General Erskine subsequently wrote to local chiefs in an attempt to mend relations with the affected communities. The letter, which is now available in the National Archives in Nairobi, did not offer an apology. Instead, it contained vague reassurances: “Investigations have satisfied me that whoever is to blame, it is not any of the persons killed.”
Major Griffiths was court-martialed for the massacre but was acquitted after KAR soldiers refused to testify against him. However, with new evidence uncovered through the McLean inquiry, Erskine ordered a second court martial, this time specifically for the murder of the first Mau Mau guide. During this trial, the soldiers under Griffiths’ command testified against him. On March 11, 1954, Griffiths was found guilty and sentenced to seven years in prison. Nonetheless, the two British junior officers who led the patrols, Innes-Walker and Howard, were never prosecuted for their roles in the massacre.
The Chuka massacre underscores several troubling contradictions in Kenya’s post-colonial history. Firstly, there has been little scholarly research on what truly transpired. The most reliable account of the events comes from David Anderson, an Oxford research fellow, who has described the massacre as “a very British massacre,” highlighting the fact that the story has been largely shaped by the victors. Secondly, the massacre is conspicuously absent from Kenyan history books, its memory relegated to dusty archives in Nairobi and the UK. Finally, there has been no meaningful attempt to commemorate the victims or reckon with the consequences of these atrocities.
As the 70th anniversary of the Chuka massacre approaches, it is imperative that progressive Kenyans take up the mantle of remembrance, reintroducing this chapter into the broader narrative of the nation’s history. Such efforts would ensure that the real stories of Kenya’s struggle for independence are given the prominence they deserve in our national consciousness.