An election is the most important public event in Kenya. Whether it is the general election every five years or a tiny by-election in Rurii ward, Nyandarua County, every political contest grabs media attention.
It is the thrill of competition. But also because politics is the surest path to elite power, privilege and prestige. The lowest ranking politician in Kenya, the MCA, is more pampered and influential than an egghead consultant surgeon who has saved thousands of lives in the silence of hospital theatres. Those KCPE and KCSE stars gushing on TV about becoming neurosurgeons, aeronautical engineers and whatnot have no idea what life is about.
Campaigns for the next election begin immediately one poll is concluded, sometimes way earlier. When President Kenyatta made the famous “Yangu Kumi, Ruto Kumi” declaration, wasn’t he talking about 2027?
Now 2022 is around the corner. The media is already awash with electioneering news, whether in the form of alliances building, defections of politicians, attempts to change the governance architecture through amendment of the Constitution, registration and launch of new parties or analysis of the wider implications of by-election results.
Politicians are always plotting for the next election. The media is inevitably caught up in this perpetual canvassing, being the conveyor belt of political speeches and strategies. But what about the citizens? How prepared are they to make decisions about public leadership on the basis of two critical factors, (a) their interests and (b) national values?
How do Kenyans make up their minds about whom to vote for in an election? Simply turn on your TV, pick up a newspaper or tune in to your favourite radio station. From those cleverly packaged political lies, you will know what your reality is. Those breath-taking, magnificent works, and the chubby men in designer suits patting each other as they cut the tape to inaugurate them, are your everyday reality.
Even when you don’t have enough to eat, inadequate supply of clean water, or can’t access quality health services; when you live in a shack and have to skip over filthy trenches or wade through sludge to get to your abode; when you can hardly afford school fees for your children; your rent is unpaid for months; when you are mired in debts; when you have to decide between that bottle of cheap brandy and food for your children; when you struggle to stay sane from the endless calls for help from your impoverished relatives and friends: still, you applaud your favourite politician who appears on your TV screen lying shamelessly about how they will transform your life.
You believe the politician’s coded hints (sometimes open declarations) that he protects you and the interests of your ethnic community. The people you live with, work with, drink with, worship with, beg from; the people who came to your aid when you had a problem; lots of your friends, are not from your ethnic community. But at election time, your favourite politician teaches you that these are your enemies. You agree.
How can the media help heal this sick reality of our politics? As some have observed, the problem with Kenya may not be the politicians. It is the people who elect them.
See you next week!
