The glue of our politics

The glue that holds Kenya's politics together is hypocrisy. Would-be saviour, those ones with the Uranus-sized egos, those whom the gods whisper in their ears, "You are the one", they practice hypocrisy to such perfection that not even the approbation of their families sticks to them. We have been witness to their machinations for generations yet we still fall for their false promises and outright lies because our need to believe is greater than our instincts for scepticism and doubt.

We used to be able to tell the charlatans from the lesser charlatans. Our politics may have been deeply tribalistic and very violent, but we were never under the illusion that the men and few women we sent to bunge were driven by our interests. We knew who they were and for the most part, we didn't care too much what they did so long as they didn't steal our wives (which they still did, but not too much) or our goats (which they continued to do, but not all of them) and contributed to church fundraisers (where they gave their small-small thousands and kept their mouths shut about it).

Then we elected Mwai Kibaki and for a brief ninety-day period, we were the Most Optimistic People In The World. We fell for a terrible lie: One Man Can Change The World. What came before laid the foundation for that optimism: Raila Odinga and the rest of the Opposition somehow found the will to set aside their tribal animosities to unite against Baba Moi's project: Uhuru Kenyatta and Musalia Mudavadi, one the son of Kenya's first president-for-life, one the son of one of Baba Moi's most loyal tribal satraps.

Mwai Kibaki, Leader of the Official Opposition, and Raila Odinga, son of Kenya's most difficult vice-presidents, joined hands, and strung together a winning presidential campaign that began with "Kibaki Tosha!" and culminated in "Yote Yawezekana Bila Moi!" It didn't last. By the end of the ninety days, Mwai Kibaki was an invalid, and his Mount Kenya tribal satraps had pushed out Raila Odinga from any kind of decision making, the V-P would soon die in a hospital in London, his successor would keep his head down and eat his supper in silence, and Kenya hurtled towards a constitutional referendum that would shatter the 2003 illusions to smithereens.

By the time the dust had settled after the 2005 referendum, the die was cast; Kenyans would never see an honest bone in any politician ever again. You can see the aftermath of that referendum in some of the political operatives flitting about TV studios these days. Some have come up as a result of the activism and advocacy of young people, particularly after the 2024 anti-Finance-Bill protests, and they have swiftly adopted the hypocritical positions of political godfathers who will discard them as soon as their youthful usefulness is spent. One of the political gadflies of the day, with a penchant for fancy three-piece suits and an English vocabulary that hides the shallowness of his ethics, is a particularly galling example of the extent to which political hypocrisies have spread.

But it is the middle-aged cohort that continues to appall and disconcert in equal measure. On TV, they say all the right things. On WhatsApp, they bow and scrape before the doyens of political hypocrisy with such fervour, it is a wonder they don't develop a permanent crick in their spines for all the contorting they have to do. One, claiming bona fides in energy justice, is particularly expert at running with the hares and hunting with the hounds, painting herself as a champion of the weak and vulnerable all the while seeking a place at the high table of energy sector decision-making.

We should know better. Our window of opportunity to put Kenya on the long and arduous road to political and economic revivification came and went in the smoke and mirrors of grand corruption and the looting of the national coffers. That opportunity will not come by ever again unless the gods deign to give us another chance.

Thy name is vanity

How many thought that Mr. Omtatah's "exploratory committee" would run out of steam this fast? While Mr. Omtatah's novel approach was encouraging, it was hobbled by a common mistake made by all also-ran presidential candidates since the return of multi-party politics: the hubris of one man who thinks that he doesn't need the political party that sponsored him to Parliament.

Mr. Omtatah's path to the Senate was a relentless one. A stalwart of the "good governance" civil society set, he set himself apart by suing the Government (and winning) over the way public money was spent. His litigation record is the envy of many and his achievements cannot be gainsaid. When he put himself forward to stand in the Busia County senate election, I feared that his victory would not lead to the kind of change he thought he could bring to Parliament. I was right; Mr. Omtatah does not appear to have sponsored a single Bill since his election. He has kept on suing the national executive over the Finance Bill; but he has not sponsored a single Bill.

He is not the activist-turned-elected-politician to discover that governing, unlike activism, is not a one-man show. As a member of the Senate, he is part of the Government, and as part of his remit, is participating in the law-making function of Parliament. Sponsoring and participating in litigation has its benefits; but it is a costly affair and does not always lead to the outcome one hoped for. As the Finance Act 2023 demonstrated, even when you win, you still lose.

Mr. Omtatah was elected to the wrong chamber. For sure, there's a lot that the Senate can do to improve the lives of the people but the Senate is not where one wants to be of one hopes to affect real change to the way public money is spent. For that, one needs to be in the National Assembly where the Budget Outlook and Review Paper, Budget Policy Statement, Estimates of Revenue and Expenditure, Finance Bill and Appropriation Bill will be introduced and debated.

But even more important than that is the ability to "work well with others". Mr. Omtatah does not appear to have found that gear yet. Parliamentary practice is replete with the kind of horse-trading that undermines public confidence in the institutions of government. In the modern parlance, such horse-trading is the necessary evil one must engage in if they wish to change lives for the better. Mr. Omtatah's lack of a legislative record would seem to imply that he does not want to horse-trade with his Senate colleagues. I don't see how he will have a successful parliamentary or presidential career if he believes that he can govern alone.

It might be that his exploratory committee has gone quiet so that it can collate the data it has collected since it was appointed last year. If that is so, the members of the committee might want to tell him that he needs to work with his parliamentary colleagues even if it means holding his nose in the process. He must put forward legislation he believes will help the people. If he won't even do that, why should the people even consider his putative presidential candidacy as anything but a vanity project?