By Janet Nyakundi and Gabriel Melonyie
Kenya’s media is done clearing its throat. It is growling. A unified roar is rising from the newsrooms. Across editorials, letters to the editor, and sharp political cartoons, the country’s leading newspapers are sending a clear and urgent warning: political violence linked to former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua is no longer an occasional disturbance. It is becoming disturbingly normal. As the road to the 2027 General Election shortens, the press is voicing the question many citizens are afraid to ask out loud—what happens if this continues?
Editors are no longer treating political violence as noise to be tolerated or chaos to be explained away. They are connecting the dots others would rather ignore. From disrupted political meetings to brazen attacks inside churches and other once-neutral spaces, the incidents are no longer framed as rowdy politics or isolated excesses. Instead, they are presented as warning signs of democracy under strain—where intimidation is edging out persuasion, fear is creeping into civic life, and democratic space is quietly shrinking.
The sharpest bite is reserved for the state. Across editorial pages, security agencies are challenged for their silence and sluggish responses. Violence unfolds in full public view—cameras rolling, perpetrators visible—yet consequences remain rare. The conclusion drawn is stark and unavoidable: when enforcement hesitates, impunity thrives. And when impunity thrives, public trust in government steadily withers.
Letters to the editor give this alarm a human voice. Written with anger, anxiety, and exhaustion, they reflect a growing fear that Kenya is drifting toward a political culture where muscle matters more than mandate. What makes the warning harder to dismiss is its consistency. From Daily Nation to The Standard, from People Daily to The Star and Taifa Leo, newsrooms are singing the same grim tune. The message is blunt and urgent—ignore this now, and the road to 2027 will be far uglier.
On January 27, The Standard captured this anxiety in an editorial headlined “Bring barbaric church attacks to an end now.” The piece condemns violent attacks on churches targeting Gachagua, describing them as barbaric, politically motivated abuses of power that endanger civilians and undermine the rule of law. The editorial opines that repeated disruptions—allegedly involving police officers and political goons—suggest either state complicity or protection of perpetrators. Such violence, the editorial warns, damages government credibility, fuels public distrust, and paradoxically boosts Gachagua’s popularity. It calls for an immediate end to political violence, respect for democratic freedoms, accountability for offenders, and sincere investigations to restore public confidence and national unity.
The concern deepened the following day. Writing in the Daily Nation on January 28, columnist Ruth Gituma described the increasing attacks on worshippers when certain politicians attend church services as deeply troubling. Sacred spaces, she reminded readers, are universally recognised as safe havens and must remain free from violence, including the lobbing of tear gas by police. “Every citizen should feel secure to worship,” she wrote. “Let’s maintain church sanctity.”
On January 29, another Daily Nation, columnist Mwangi Wanjohi, reacted to the attack on worshippers at a church in Othaya, Nyeri County. He warned that the incident was dangerous as the country heads toward the next election campaign period. Alleged police involvement or inaction, he argued, would only lead to more chaos and a sense of civil helplessness, potentially fuelling violence in the name of self-defence by victims.
Then came the cartoons on January 27. Few words. Heavy meaning. Policemen frozen in place. Mobs emboldened. Churches no longer safe. With dark humour and brutal clarity, cartoonists exposed what official statements soften or avoid. In a single frame, they accused the system of looking away.
The cartoons from Daily Nation, The Standard, People Daily, Taifa Leo, and The Star shared a common focus: political violence and insecurity, particularly attacks on Gachagua, highlighting both direct threats and apparent state inaction. The dominant theme is the normalisation and escalation of politically motivated aggression, showing how armed militias and partisan violence have become intertwined with official security structures, putting civilians—and even sacred spaces—at risk. The tone is negative, stressing danger, lawlessness, and threats to democratic order, while portraying these incidents as symptomatic of deeper governance and accountability failures in the lead-up to the 2027 elections.
The Daily Nation depicted a disturbing picture of armed goons repeatedly attacking Gachagua during church services while Interior Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen and Inspector General Douglas Kanja looked on. The Standard contrasted past and present political violence, showing how crude civilian militias have evolved into militarised, heavily armed political enforcers. The People Daily illustrated that the 2027 General Election is already highly charged and dangerously tense, while Taifa Leo portrayed attacks on Gachagua inside a church in Nyeri, showing that even sacred spaces are no longer safe.
Together, these voices show the media doing exactly what watchdogs are meant to do—refusing to be polite/silent in the face of danger. The negative tone is intentional. This is not pessimism; it is an alarm. Editorial calls for independent investigations, prosecutions, and preventive action insist that political violence is not a campaign tactic—it is a constitutional breach.
As Kenya edges closer to 2027, the press is sending a simple message: democracy does not collapse overnight. It erodes quietly, while everyone is told to calm down. By growling early, the watchdog is trying to stop the bite.
