One day in 1981, President Daniel arap Moi found himself at the center of an unexpected crisis thousands of kilometres away from home after his famous fimbo ya Nyayo suddenly broke during an overseas trip.

Moi had just addressed the United Nations General Assembly in New York and was heading to the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in Melbourne, Australia, when the incident happened during a stopover in Los Angeles.

As the president descended a staircase, the ivory baton slipped and snapped into two pieces.

To outsiders, it may have appeared like a minor accident.

But within Moi’s inner circle, the broken rungu triggered panic.

The fimbo ya Nyayo was more than a walking stick. It had become Moi’s signature symbol of authority and power, the one item closely associated with his presidency wherever he travelled.

Appearing before world leaders without it was not an option.

According to longtime presidential aide Lee Njiru, Moi immediately asked whether the broken baton could be repaired. The answer was no.

The ivory could not be patched without exposing the damage.

Calls were immediately placed to State House Nairobi.

Moi’s personal assistant Peter Rotich was urgently instructed to locate spare batons and leave Kenya immediately. State House officials reportedly confirmed that two spare ivory rungus were safely kept in Nairobi.

Rotich collected them and began a frantic journey across continents as Moi’s delegation delayed parts of its travel schedule to buy him time.

The operation quickly became a race against the clock.

As Moi’s plane approached Australia, fears grew within the delegation that the president could land without the famous symbol that had become part of his public identity.

But moments before Moi disembarked in Sydney, Rotich arrived carrying the replacement rungu flown all the way from Nairobi.

The baton was handed to Moi inside the aircraft.

When the president finally stepped out to greet dignitaries and crowds, he confidently waved the replacement fimbo ya Nyayo as though nothing unusual had happened.

Nobody outside the presidential circle knew that behind the scenes, State House had spent nearly two days coordinating an international operation to replace a broken baton.

Years later, Lee Njiru would describe the incident as one of the moments that revealed to him the true nature of power around the presidency.

He said those close to a president must never confuse proximity to power with ownership of it because presidential authority is temporary and borrowed.

One year later in 1982, there was attempted coup.