Kenyans must confront an uncomfortable truth we have avoided for far too long: the quality of our lives is a direct reflection of the quality of leaders we elect. Not the speeches they make. Not the handshakes they offer. Not the money they dish out during campaigns.
Our roads, hospitals, schools, taxes, cost of living, insecurity, and unemployment are all political outcomes. They are the receipts of our collective electoral choices.
For years, we have perfected the art of complaining. We complain about high taxes, broken healthcare, jobless youth, collapsing education, corruption, and leaders who disappear the moment elections end.
Yet every five years, many of us suspend memory, abandon logic, and vote with our stomachs instead of our minds. We trade five years of suffering for a few coins, a T-shirt, or a funeral contribution. Then we act shocked when nothing changes.
A generous politician with no sound policies is not kind — they are transactional. They are not helping you; they are buying silence in advance. Such a politician understands one thing very well: if they give you something small today, they can take something much bigger from you tomorrow.
That is what “washing” a vote looks like — distracting citizens with handouts while looting budgets, weakening institutions, and passing laws that make life harder for everyone.
Leadership is not about generosity; it is about governance. A serious leader understands laws, budgets, oversight, and national priorities. They know how Parliament works, how public money is allocated, and how policies affect food prices, electricity bills, school fees, and medical costs. When we elect leaders who do not understand these things — or worse, do not care — we condemn ourselves to permanent crisis.
Your vote decides whether your MP will fight for better funding for public hospitals or remain silent as healthcare collapses. Your vote determines whether laws passed protect workers and small businesses or suffocate them with taxes.
Your vote influences whether corruption is challenged or normalized. Every election is a fork in the road — one path leads to dignity, the other to managed suffering.
We must stop confusing politics with charity. Charity is optional; leadership is structural. A leader is not elected to be generous with personal money but to be ruthless in defending public interest.
They must ask hard questions, reject waste, oppose bad laws, and ensure that every shilling collected from taxpayers returns as services, opportunity, and security. Anything less is betrayal dressed as kindness.
The truth is simple but painful: bad leadership thrives because good citizens keep excusing it. We lower standards, rationalize incompetence, and reward noise over substance. Then we complain when the same leaders pass punitive taxes, borrow recklessly, and govern without accountability.
Democracy does not fail us — we fail it when we refuse to think.
Kenya is at a point where complaints are no longer enough. Awareness without action is useless. Anger without discipline changes nothing. If we want a better country, we must vote like our lives depend on it — because they do.
The ballot is not a favour to politicians; it is a weapon for citizens.
It is time to think beyond our stomachs. To reject leaders with empty pockets of ideas and full pockets of tricks. To demand clarity, competence, and courage.
Because in the end, the life you live tomorrow is shaped by the leader you elect today. And history is unforgiving to nations that keep making the same mistakes and calling it hope.