Why Kenyan Politics Decides Whether You Thrive or Just Survive: The Truth About Our Daily Dependence On The Powers That Be
KEY POINTS
Employment, too, is at the mercy of political puppetry. In a system where political alliances and loyalties matter more than qualifications, talent is not rewarded but suppressed. Jobs become favors, not opportunities, and youth unemployment is dismissed as “a generation’s weakness.” The economy suffers, of course, but rest assured, politicians’ personal portfolios remain pristine.
KEY TAKEAWAYS
Social media, once a liberating tool, is now a political minefield, with influencers turned pawns and algorithms favoring propaganda over truth. Information wars rage, with lies spreading faster than facts, reshaping public perception in politicians’ favor. For each true story silenced, a dozen manufactured ones thrive, clouding the judgment of a nation.
Let’s get one thing straight: in Kenya, politics is not just a seasonal circus you watch every election cycle for a laugh. Oh no, politics is that shadow puppeteer pulling strings on every little corner of your life. It seeps through the crevices of your pocket, slips into the classroom, makes itself cozy in hospital hallways, and lurks in your bank statements. But if you’re under the impression that keeping silent or “staying away from politics” will safeguard you from its clutches, you’re part of the grand illusion politicians sell.
Consider the classroom. The state of education is hardly by accident. Each dilapidated classroom, each overcrowded hall, each overworked teacher, and every underfunded school is a testament to the priority—or lack thereof—that our esteemed leaders assign to education. They’ll stand on podiums with chest-thumping speeches, assuring us of “free education,” but good luck finding desks that aren’t 20 years old or a school with an operational laboratory. Behind every child sitting on a stone instead of a desk, there’s a politician somewhere, smiling, ready to throw a few crumbs just before an election.
Then there’s healthcare—a beautifully tragic saga. Who wouldn’t want to trust their life to a system where a fever might just be mistaken for a ‘mild inconvenience’? Politicians seem to think health is a game, with lives on the line only when they need a dramatic campaign rallying point. Their children are treated in private, world-class hospitals abroad, but they ensure you must rely on health facilities that sometimes lack even basic painkillers. But remember, in their grand gestures, they’ll promise you more health reforms than you can count, while quietly pocketing billions through backdoor deals. Need heart surgery? Let’s hope you believe in miracles.
Read Also: Dancing with Demons: A Lecture On The Folly Of Politician Worship That Kenyans Are So Good At
The cash in your pocket—what little of it remains—is a political matter too. Inflation? Taxation? It’s all a side effect of politics. You think the rising cost of unga, fuel, or even that elusive piece of land you dream of owning is random? Those in power write policies that decide who wins and who loses. And let’s not forget, these policies are often crafted with the intent of keeping the regular Kenyan citizen right where they are—struggling to stay afloat.
Employment, too, is at the mercy of political puppetry. In a system where political alliances and loyalties matter more than qualifications, talent is not rewarded but suppressed. Jobs become favors, not opportunities, and youth unemployment is dismissed as “a generation’s weakness.” The economy suffers, of course, but rest assured, politicians’ personal portfolios remain pristine.
Banks, once your “safe haven” for finances, also dance to the tune of the political pipe. Each time a new law on lending or a sudden “bailout” for the already rich hits the news, remember that it’s your money being manipulated. Who can forget the infamous interest rate caps? Did it benefit the everyday Kenyan? Hardly. But it served the politicians’ corporate buddies quite nicely.
When politicians legislate—or don’t legislate—on infrastructure, we end up with highways that don’t last past the next election, potholes large enough to swallow tuk-tuks, and bridges that tremble under the weight of their first lorry. And yet, the people cheer as new projects are launched with grand fanfare, like children marveling at a magician’s show, blissfully unaware they’ll foot the bill when repairs are due.
Electricity? That’s another political game. Why else would power cuts be such a common experience here? Each outage is an unspoken reminder that the system is engineered for the elite few. While promises are made for “universal access,” don’t hold your breath; the electricity might be off when you exhale.
The environment, our precious land and water, suffers too. Politicians will shake hands and pose for the cameras, speaking of their commitment to conservation, yet permits are quietly issued for logging, land grabs, and pollution. The rivers that sustain communities and the forests that house wildlife are sold off for political favors, but all is forgiven come election season with a few token seedlings planted and some empty rhetoric.
You may ask, “What about the judiciary? Isn’t that supposed to be independent?” Ideally, yes, but in Kenya, justice is up for negotiation. Court rulings, more often than not, are political decisions dressed in judicial robes. The powerful glide through scandal after scandal unscathed, while the everyday Kenyan who dares to seek justice may find themselves entangled in a web of red tape.
And if you’re wondering about transport, public transport is a canvas upon which politics smears its trademark dysfunction. From the endless traffic in Nairobi to the crumbling matatus, it’s a reflection of poor planning and misplaced priorities. Politicians themselves don’t experience these delays; their motorcades breeze through the jams they create.
Our culture, our values, our identities—politics influences them all. Politicians redefine “Kenyan values” with each campaign, manipulating patriotism as a tool for division and distraction. They champion “moral integrity” during campaigns but turn a blind eye to scandals that would topple governments in other countries. We’re encouraged to look the other way because, in the political narrative, “it’s just business.”
Media freedom, once the beacon of truth, now teeters on the edge of political interest. Those who dare to speak against the establishment are muffled, sometimes subtly, sometimes not. Journalists face threats, and stories that could change the country’s course go untold, leaving the masses with half-truths that shield the real power brokers.
In our universities, the rot of politics is no less intense. Student leadership is a training ground not for civil engagement but for political manipulation, where loyalty is more valuable than a degree. Universities were once pillars of free thought; now they’re cradles for the next generation of politically compliant citizens.
Religion, too, has not escaped the grasp of politics. Holy platforms become stages for campaign rallies, with religious leaders promising divine favor for the political elite in exchange for a little “donation.” Faith, once pure and a moral compass, becomes tainted with the stench of political ambition, and the people follow, swayed by the spiritualized promises of politicians.
Social media, once a liberating tool, is now a political minefield, with influencers turned pawns and algorithms favoring propaganda over truth. Information wars rage, with lies spreading faster than facts, reshaping public perception in politicians’ favor. For each true story silenced, a dozen manufactured ones thrive, clouding the judgment of a nation.
The food on your table is political, too. Subsidies, taxes, import policies—all orchestrated to benefit a select few while the majority pay inflated prices for basic necessities. They throw you a bone now and then, just enough to keep you alive until the next election, where they’ll promise food security again, while their pockets grow fat on our nation’s harvest.
And as for housing, the less said the better. Affordable housing schemes become political bait, with a few houses built for photo-ops and the rest of the funding lost to thin air. Rent controls, land rights, and slum upgrading projects—all drift off in the winds of political expediency, while ordinary Kenyans squeeze into cramped spaces or live under constant eviction threats.
Is there any part of life untouched by politics? Our families feel the impact, our friendships, our aspirations, and even our ability to dream. To turn a blind eye is to let politicians choose the direction of our lives without input. For, while we “stay out of politics,” they govern every heartbeat of the nation.
So, do we have a choice? Absolutely. When politicians offer us crumbs, we have the power to demand more. When they hijack our nation’s future for their gain, we can hold them accountable. Staying silent is a luxury Kenya can no longer afford.
Read Also: Kenyans Never Learn: The Virtue Of Leaderless Revolt In The Fight Against The Evil Political Class
About Steve Biko Wafula
Steve Biko is the CEO OF Soko Directory and the founder of Hidalgo Group of Companies. Steve is currently developing his career in law, finance, entrepreneurship and digital consultancy; and has been implementing consultancy assignments for client organizations comprising of trainings besides capacity building in entrepreneurial matters. He can be reached on: +254 20 510 1124 or Email: info@sokodirectory.com
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