We owe a debt of gratitude to Morara Kebaso, the lawyer-turned-businessman-turned-activist, for devising a compelling formula for communicating the truth about what ails our republic with impressive velocity.
In short order, Morara has laid bare the moral bankruptcy at the heart of Kenya’s leadership with unflinching clarity. Through his Vampire Diaries videos, primarily shared on social media, Morara has drawn significant attention to the countless stalled projects scattered across the nation with their imposing plaques resembling desecrated gravestones marking the total and complete moral collapse of the country's leadership.
These projects, launched under President William Ruto’s administration and his predecessor Uhuru Kenyatta, have been marked by grand announcements and were allocated millions of shillings. However, they have ultimately amounted to little more than empty shells, either unstarted, unfinished or simply unfit for their intended purpose.
Morara’s efforts are not just an indictment of the current administration but also a reflection of a broader, systemic malaise that has infected Kenya's political elite. Ours is a leadership that has mastered the art of adapting its rhetoric to suit the occasion while having no intention of delivering substantive change.
Our current crop of leaders occupies a moral grey zone where the boundaries of right and wrong are blurred, not by ignorance, but by choice. The monetary rewards of operating outside the ethical guardrails set by our Constitution are simply too great for them to resist. The prevailing logic is one of impunity: “Everybody does it, so it must be okay.”
But the ground is rumbling beneath their feet. The Kenyan people are no longer willing to accept this status quo. A yawning gap has emerged between the moral imagination of the country's leadership and its citizens. This gap is not just a difference in opinion, it is a chasm that is widening by the day.
History is replete with examples of what happens when a country's political elite loses touch with the values and aspirations of its people. These are the failed states, nations in name only, where corruption, incompetence and ethical decline reign supreme.
Kenya is teetering on the brink of such a fate. The rot within our leadership is deep, and Morara's revelations are merely the tip of the iceberg. His efforts, however, are a powerful reminder that change is possible.
Those who dismiss Morara as a mere rabble-rouser fail to understand the significance of his work. He is not just exposing corruption, he, like so many politically conscious young people in Kenya right now, is shining a light on the path to a better Kenya.
For those who think that Morara’s efforts are a waste of time, a lesson can be learned from Saul Alinsky, the famed American community activist and political theorist. Alinsky's seminal work, Rules for Radicals, published in 1971, remains a blueprint for grassroots activism.
Two of his golden rules are particularly relevant for Kenya's youthful revolutionaries today: “ridicule is man’s most potent weapon” and “a good tactic is one that your people enjoy.”
Morara, and other digital-first activists like him, have mastered these tactics. By turning the spotlight on Kenya’s stalled projects, they are ridiculing the failures of the political elite and capturing the attention of a frustrated populace. Their approach is akin to death by a thousand cuts, each revelation, each piece of ridicule, weakens the foundation of a corrupt regime.
This is the reason why authoritarian regimes fear satire and ridicule above all else. These are tools that undermine authority, erode the illusion of invincibility, and expose the ridiculousness of those who believe themselves untouchable. Morara's Vampire Diaries is not just an act of rebellion but a call to arms for a new generation of Kenyans who refuse to accept the moral decay of their country.
What this new crop of activists, of which Morara is an exemplar, is fighting for is simple; accountability. They are demanding that those in power be held to the standards set by the constitution, that public resources be used for the public good and that the government work for the people, not against them. This is not too much to ask. It is, in fact, the bare minimum that a democratic society should expect.
Morara’s activism is a reminder that the power to change Kenya lies not in the hands of the corrupt few, but in the collective will of the many. The path forward will not be easy but the future of this nation depends on our ability to rise above the wholesale failure of our so-called leaders.