Government and Policy

Dear Mr. President, This Is A Letter From 55 Million Disillusioned Kenyans To You

BY Steve Biko Wafula · November 20, 2024 03:11 pm

KEY POINTS

Lies have turned Kenya into a nation of skeptics. No longer do citizens take government announcements at face value. Even well-meaning initiatives are met with scorn, as the shadow of deceit looms large over every policy. The Embu episode is not an isolated incident but part of a pattern that has defined your leadership.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Mr. President, "The truth may be buried, but it cannot die." It will rise, as it always does, to expose the nakedness of deception. You must confront the truth now or be consumed by it later. Begin by acknowledging your government’s failings. Admit where you have fallen short, and commit to rebuilding trust. Surround yourself with people of integrity—advisors who will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.

To His Excellency Dr. William Samoei Ruto, President of the Republic of Kenya,

State House, Nairobi.

From the 55 Million Disillusioned Citizens of Kenya;

In the cradle of our ancestors, where wisdom was passed down through proverbs and parables, truth was the pillar that held society together. “A single lie destroys a thousand truths,” says an African proverb, and yet, Your Excellency, your government seems to have embraced lies as policy, wielding them carelessly without regard for the damage they inflict. Today, we speak not with bitterness but with the hope that the truth can awaken your conscience, for the stakes are no less than the soul of our nation and our lives literally.

What happened in Embu on Saturday is not just an indictment of your administration but a painful reflection of how far the rot of dishonesty has spread. The claim that 160,000 affordable houses are under construction, boldly proclaimed within the sacred walls of a church, is as incredulous as it is insulting. Simple arithmetic betrays the deceit: at an average cost of KSh 2.5 million per house, the total expenditure would amount to KSh 400 billion. This is a staggering figure, far beyond the Housing Fund’s annual collection of KSh 54 billion. Your lie, sir, may have been cloaked in grandeur, but even a village elder could see through it.

When leaders lie, they do not merely deceive; they erode the foundations of trust that bind a nation. The Kenyan people no longer believe in the words of your government. Institutions that were once revered—the judiciary, the legislature, even the presidency—are now viewed with suspicion and disdain. “A leader who lies builds his throne on quicksand,” says another proverb. The sands beneath your regime are shifting, Mr. President, and the people’s patience has worn thin.

The consequences of this erosion are far-reaching. Consider the current push for polio vaccinations. Parents, fearful and skeptical, are defying the government’s calls to protect their children. Not because they do not love their offspring, but because they no longer trust your word. The lives of innocent children are now at risk, a heavy price to pay for a government that has squandered its credibility.

Your Excellency, Kenya is becoming a global punchline. African leaders whisper behind closed doors, amused by the contradictions of a president who preaches one thing and practices another. Internationally, Kenya’s image is tarnished. Investors question the stability of a nation whose leaders peddle fiction. Our economy, already struggling under the weight of corruption, debt and inflation, now bears the added burden of a credibility crisis.

In the Embu spectacle, you not only insulted the intelligence of Kenyans but also demonstrated a lack of respect for the sanctity of the church. “The mouth that lies kills the spirit,” an Arabic saying goes, and your words in that holy place did more than deceive; they desecrated. Lies, Mr. President, have a way of unraveling the moral fabric of society. When leaders cannot be trusted, citizens turn on each other, communities fracture, and the bonds of nationhood weaken.

Your lies are killing the dream of a united Kenya. They are creating divisions between communities, eroding the social contract, and alienating the youth who look to their leaders for inspiration. A generation raised in the shadow of deceit learns to mimic it. What kind of legacy is this for the children of Kenya?

Democracy, too, is under siege. Lies undermine the very principles of accountability and transparency upon which our Constitution is built. When the truth becomes elusive, democracy morphs into tyranny disguised as governance. “A lie has many versions, but the truth stands alone,” says another wise saying. How many versions of your truth must the people endure before they see through the charade?

Your government’s dishonesty has become a stumbling block to economic progress. Businesses cannot plan effectively in an environment riddled with false promises and inconsistent policies. The much-vaunted “hustler economy” now feels like a cruel joke to the struggling entrepreneur. While you declare prosperity from podiums, the ground tells a different story of unpaid bills, collapsing enterprises, and disillusioned citizens.

In Embu, you spoke of housing, yet countless Kenyans sleep hungry everyday, betrayed by promises as empty as the coffers meant to fund them. If 160,000 houses are under construction, where are they? Let the people see the foundations, the walls rising, the workers toiling. Let them see the truth, or admit the lie.

Mr. President, “The truth may be buried, but it cannot die.” It will rise, as it always does, to expose the nakedness of deception. You must confront the truth now or be consumed by it later. Begin by acknowledging your government’s failings. Admit where you have fallen short, and commit to rebuilding trust. Surround yourself with people of integrity—advisors who will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.

Trust is a currency that cannot be printed. It must be earned through consistency, honesty, and action. Start by delivering on the promises you have made. If you cannot build 160,000 houses, say so. Focus instead on achievable goals and invite the people to participate in solutions.

If the burden of honesty is too heavy, if you find yourself unable to part ways with falsehoods, then the honorable path is clear: step aside. Kenya deserves leaders who hold truth as sacred, who prioritize the nation over their narratives. Your resignation would not be a defeat but an act of service to a nation desperate for redemption.

Finally, remember this: “A leader’s worth is measured not by the grandeur of his promises but by the depth of his truth.” The people of Kenya are not fools, Mr. President. They see through the veils of deceit. Their patience is not infinite, and their hope is not to be taken for granted.

This is your moment of reckoning. Will you rise to the occasion, embrace the truth, and restore Kenya’s dignity? Or will you cling to lies and watch as the trust of 55 million citizens crumbles into dust? The choice is yours, but know this: the future of Kenya hangs in the balance.

Respectfully,

The 55 Million Citizens of Kenya

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