On September 1, 2007, at the Kasarani Gymnasium, as you conceded the ODM presidential ticket to Raila Odinga, you gave him a piece of advice. “To lead the orchestra, you must turn your back on the crowd.” What you meant was that the job of President required the holder to move away from political interests, tribal divisions and petty jealousies, in order to unite and lead a nation.
Fifteen years after that colourful ODM presidential nomination ceremony, and your own wise words at the function, you became President of the Republic. Students of history waited to see if you would take your own advice in managing the nation’s affairs.
Instead, the enduring image of your regime has narrowed down to that of the people close to you, nearly all of them from your own ethnic community, living large and displaying opulence to a hungry and angry public. You certainly didn’t turn your back on the tribal crowd when seeking to lead the orchestra.
Mr President, when the young generation of Kenyans, the now-famous Gen Z group, took to the streets of most Kenyan towns in late June and early July, initially protesting against the infamous Finance Bill 2024, but later demanding that you resign, I thought that for once, you would find time to reflect and change course. However, your reaction to them, including a bizarre roundtable media interview from State House on Sunday June 30, 2024, showed you were yet to appreciate the magnitude of the problem on your hands.
It is interesting that a government that came to power barely two years ago, riding on the perceived love of poor masses, had to be the first since independence to deploy the Kenya Defence Forces to help restore a semblance of law and order in the streets of the capital.
In a way, the class divisions that your campaign promoted so much ahead of the 2022 elections, have come back to bite you. But even more, your affinity for countless promises to the electorate, that are never kept, has caught up with you, too.
Mr President, from my humble armchair analysis, I believe your problems can be summarised into three main issues. First, you talk too much! You want to be at the centre of everything and anything, which drives you to issue policy statements in political rallies and by the roadsides.
The effect of this is that the technocrats you have hired to work for you are rendered useless, as you make it difficult for them to communicate a credible government position without the fear of you contradicting them.
Besides that, this micro-management habit of talking all the time actually exposes you to fact-checks, and hence, the reigning public persona of you as a pathological liar. You see, Sir, if you weren’t all over the place talking about a million things, we wouldn’t be able to retrieve videos of contradictory statements from before.
In statecraft, it is possible to plan and execute the state agenda within the frameworks of cabinet meetings, ministerial subcommittees and civil service technocrat platforms, without your saying these things at every given opportunity.
Your second issue sir, in my view, is your desire to be the cleverest person in the room. Your TV media appearances give an illuminating picture of this. You appear frustrated that the journalists don’t ask the exact questions you want to answer, so you create your own questions and proceed to answer them, sometimes totally ignoring the original interview questions.
Looking at this from a security standpoint, if this is the same manner in which you handle intelligence briefings by your senior security officials, then it is no wonder puzzling intelligence failures and security lapses abound in this regime, not least the failures that led to a group of young Kenyans actually breaching Parliament Buildings on June 25
Your third issue, Sir, is what I consider an attempt to recreate the Moi-era big man syndrome, complete with its attendant incompetence, in a time when years of constitutional gains have changed the governance and political structures of this country.
Apart from the grotesque Moi-style show of extreme religiosity in high office under your reign, as well as the wanton buying of loyalty via harambees and splashing of large amounts of money around, the makeup of your Cabinet proves that friendship and political expediency far overweigh competence and suitability, in your regime.
Someone commented, and rightfully so, that if the Covid pandemic had hit this nation under the Ruto regime, it is difficult to see how we would have survived it. Just imagine CS Susan Nakhumicha instead of Mutahi Kagwe. Or CS Ezekiel Machogu replacing taking Prof George Magoha (deceased), to assure an anxious education sector that we would recover syllabus losses and save the sector from collapse. You have surrounded yourself with a Cabinet that does not inspire confidence, because you attach a higher premium to loyalty than talent.
Mr President, some of the greatest leaders in the world, when faced with national crises, have actually admitted their own flaws and embraced changes demanded by the people. The young people who have been on the streets these past weeks have bemoaned a long catalogue of issues with your regime.
They feel Parliament has been captured by the Executive and is no longer representative of the people’s wishes. They say your fiscal policies are hurting the common man, while your government’s luxurious spending and your own unhinged traveling show a lack of respect to the taxpayer. They hold the perception that you lie too much. And that your Cabinet is the worst in independent Kenya.
It is impossible, Sir, that all of them are wrong, and only you are right! In a political crisis of this nature, you have to meet the people midway. Withdrawing the Finance Bill 2024 did not suffice, because after all, it was merely the trigger, after two years of boiling anger. Everyone thought you would dissolve the Cabinet, or at least reshuffle it, as low-hanging fruit to buy you more time. But I understand that you are indeed a control freak, and this would hurt your pride.
One thing I have to tell you, Sir, is that in many parts of this country, people genuinely want you to succeed. In fact, I dare say that in your public falling-out with DP Rigathi Gachagua, his self-entitled outbursts and lack of manners have earned you more sympathy than he from citizens.
Many in the country feel the DP only seeks more power and resources for his community. But the country needs you and your government to work and uplift the people.
Sad as it may seem, the ordinary Kenyan’s perception of who calls the shots in your regime doesn’t go past Oscar Sudi, your aide Farouk Kibet and possibly, CS Kipchumba Murkomen.
When they are not carrying large wands of banknotes at harambees, they are spotted wearing watches and shoes worth a tidy few millions of shillings. Public perception doesn’t care for truth. Which is why you have your work cut out for you, if you want to only survive your first term, but seek a second. To lead the orchestra, you must turn your back on the crowd, right?
Political commentator
