If you think that the job is worth the risk and the vicious name-calling that is sure to follow, by all means, send your curriculum vitae to Uhuru Kenyatta on the 4th July, 2017, one month before the general elections, and if for some ungodly reason Uhuru Kenyatta chooses not to stand for the presidency again, you could send your CV to whatever character that shall pop out of the political woodwork to test their mettle in the fire of national elective politics.
I'd be wary about sending my CV to Raila Odinga, though; his record is three for three (or is it two for two?) and there is a strong whiff of uncertainty about his chances the next go around. Chances are that you are a masochist, though; so by all means, on the 4th July, 2017, send Raila Odinga your CV to and be sure to remind him that if it is about kissing ass, the fact that you are not running your own built-by-your-own-sweat billion-shilling enterprise means that you will vacuum-seal your lips to his sphincter for the entire ten years of his presidency! (You must start kissing ass early.)
A casual examination of the Cabinet Secretarial experiences of Joseph Ole Lenku, Jacob Kaimenyi, Phyllis Kandie and Anne Waiguru makes one wince. These, especially the latter two, are superbly accomplished people who have made their mark, whether in public or private practice. But their experience in Uhuru Kenyatta's Cabinet must have given them the hide of a rhino; the barbs and brickbats flung at them on a daily basis is enough to depress even the most even-tempered among us. It is a stream of hostility and negativity that does not seem to end.
If the ones hurling epithets at members of President Kenyatta's Cabinet suggested ways and means of improving things, it would not be so bad. The members of the Cabinet would evaluate the ideas against what is known and what is possible and either adopt, adapt or reject the ideas; but they would have a sound basis for moving ahead with any idea. That is not the case; the vitriol is laced with a heavy dose of ethnic victimhood. The argument is not so much on the technical capabilities of the members of the Cabinet but on whether they come from my tribe or the wrong tribe. (Any tribe that is not my tribe is always the wrong tribe. It just is!)
It is for this reason that if I were Bob Collymore's Director of Legal Services for which he paid me the princely sum of 600 thousand shillings each month, and I enjoyed the sundry benefits that Safaricom offered, the last thing I would do is pretend that I wanted to "serve the people" in 2017 and put my name forward for a Cabinet position. I would not trust that even if I were honest, well-meaning, dedicated and super-good at managing two hundred lawyers, that the State Law Office wouldn't somehow infect me with the "this is Government" disease where sloth and incompetence seem to invite reward. The only reason I would put my name forward to be a Cabinet Secretary would be a deep masochistic desire to experience the people's reaction to my "leadership" style.
I cannot imagine why Mr Ole Lenku remains in office; the things people have said about him are some of the most hurtful things. It is not the cruel jokes that revolve around his time in the hospitality industry that hurt the most; those, I believe, he can weather. But the accusations that he does not care about the dead, that he is not intelligent enough to see that he is hated by everyone, that he cares only for the opportunities to procure new cars...those must cut him to the quick. It is probably true that while the success rate of terrorists and brigands and bandits seems to be going up, the number of attacks that have been foiled by the Interior ministry might be even larger still. It might be true. The fact that no one believes Mr Ole Lenku when he claims to have foiled more attacks than the ones that have taken place must hurt him the most. And that is the only reason not to take up a Cabinet position: you are immediately placed under great suspicion and the moment something you do goes wrong or you miss something, whatever goodwill you had is yanked away and blame is instead heaped on your head. Only a masochist will go through that day after day.