The Benevolent Tyrant: How Ruto Is Graciously Saving Kenya From The Perils Of Freedom
KEY POINTS
But who are we to complain? Surely, it's better to be governed by a visionary who knows what's best for us. We may not understand the intricacies of finance, healthcare, transport, housing, or climate policy, but Ruto does.
KEY TAKEAWAYS
In the end, the danger is clear. The country is slipping into a toxic environment where one man’s interests supersede those of 50 million Kenyans. And as Ruto tightens his grip on every industry, sector, and institution, the nation risks becoming little more than a personal fiefdom, where dissent is silenced, laws are ignored, and democracy is but a memory.
Ah, William Ruto, Kenya’s savior. With the zeal of a saint, he has taken it upon himself to rescue the nation from the destructive claws of autonomy, decentralization, and—God forbid—economic independence. In an act of unprecedented generosity, he has decided that Kenyans don’t really need control over their own food, transport, or healthcare. No, it’s far better if the benevolent presidency handles these trivial matters, saving the nation from the exhausting responsibility of self-governance. Why grow your own food when the state can graciously decide who gets to eat and at what price?
It would be utterly naïve to think that the Constitution of Kenya—yes, that dusty old document—guarantees freedom from exploitation. How dare anyone accuse Ruto of breaking laws when he is clearly just bending them to fit his noble agenda? The Public Officer Ethics Act, which so rudely forbids state officials from engaging in businesses that create conflicts of interest, was obviously written by people who didn’t have Ruto’s divine foresight. After all, can you really expect a leader to elevate the country without owning a slice of every pie? Transport? Let him dabble. Healthcare? Let him dictate. Housing? Well, who else should decide where you live but the man at the top?
It’s almost laughable how critics accuse him of violating Chapter Six of the Constitution on Leadership and Integrity. Don’t they know that integrity is a fluid concept? One day it’s about transparency, and the next, it’s about consolidating power in the name of efficiency. Who could blame him for wanting a hand in every industry? It’s much easier to control an entire nation’s economy if you control the food they eat, the roads they drive on, the hospitals they go to, and the houses they live in. This, dear Kenyans, is called streamlining governance.
Then there’s the little matter of state capture. You see, Ruto has quite magnanimously taken it upon himself to show Kenyans what state capture really looks like. It’s an educational experience, really. The Horticultural Crop Authority Bill 2024? Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s about exploiting smallholder farmers; it’s about guiding them into the warm embrace of centralized control. Why let over 3 million farmers determine their own fates when they can be micro-managed by the state for the greater good?
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The danger, of course, lies in the potential to create a system where the president’s interests directly conflict with those of the public. But come on, conflict of interest is such an outdated term, isn’t it? When the president profits from both public policy and private ventures, it’s not a conflict—it’s synergy. Like a well-oiled machine, Ruto’s administration ensures that his personal businesses benefit from laws designed to assist the public. How else would you describe the transfer of public assets into private hands, if not as a brilliant exercise in efficiency?
Take the ongoing overhaul of the healthcare system, for instance. The Social Health Insurance Fund (SHIF) is, without a doubt, a stroke of genius. By forcing every Kenyan to contribute to a system they barely understand, Ruto is ensuring that health is no longer a human right but a privilege to be sold back to them at a premium. The fact that he stands to benefit from this isn’t corruption; it’s just good business. After all, shouldn’t a president know what’s best for the people by personally investing in every sector?
It’s truly a pity that the judiciary doesn’t fully appreciate his visionary approach. That pesky thing called the rule of law keeps getting in the way of his grand plans. Laws like the Competition Act, which aims to prevent the creation of monopolies and cartels, are clearly just minor roadblocks for a leader of his caliber. How else can Kenya achieve progress if not through monopolizing food, transport, healthcare, and housing? After all, competition is overrated.
Now, some may argue that controlling everything from insurance to banking is a bit too much. But what do they know? These alarmists fail to see the bigger picture. The Kenyan people need a president who can steer the economy by the reins, without interference from democratic institutions like Parliament or the judiciary. In fact, it’s rather inconvenient that these bodies still exist at all. The sooner they’re dissolved or made irrelevant, the better.
Let’s not forget the sheer brilliance of Ruto’s housing agenda. Critics will say it’s a poorly disguised land grab, but who are we to question his grand vision? Affordable housing, they call it, but in reality, it’s a masterclass in the redistribution of wealth—from the poor to the connected elites, of course. What’s a few hectares of prime land here or there, slipping into the hands of well-placed individuals who just happen to be close to the presidency? If anything, it’s Ruto’s way of teaching us that real estate is the only real power, and who better to hold it than those already in power?
And let’s applaud the subtle genius of his environmental policies. Yes, yes, the climate crisis is real, but Ruto’s approach