A woman who prays for her husband to be king is indirectly praying for herself to be queen.
Politics, so to speak, is a quid pro quo fellowship. Politics has never been, and will never be, a playground for philanthropists.
A common proverb among African kingdoms of yore puts it this way: A woman who prays for her husband to be king is indirectly praying for herself to be queen. Political dalliance is a scratch-my-back-I-scratch-your-back deal. It's a what-for-what contract.
The preponderance of self-interest in political relationships, across history, makes estranged Deputy President William Ruto's belaboured helper image a first.
The United Democratic Alliance 2022 presidential aspirant's key marketing pitch, especially among the Kikuyu, is that he supported – helped – President Uhuru Kenyatta in 2002, 2013, and in 2017.
During the 2002 general election, when the country was united for change, Ruto stuck with President Daniel arap's Moi's choice for successor. The popular political song then was ‘Yote yawezekana bila Moi'. Bill Ruto was then helping Uhuru to succeed his godfather.
Ruto joined Uhuru again in the quest for power in 2013, when the Executive duo faced charges of crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Court. The Hague-bound pair needed State power to subvert justice for the 2007 post-election crimes.
The bond of mutual interest persisted in 2017: Uhuru wanted a second term in State House. Ruto was pursuing his pound of flesh. Uhuru let it slip that Ruto would be his presidential successor.
'Uhuru Kumi and Ruto Kumi’ was trending among the Kikuyu and the Kalenjin. Ruto wasn't helping Uhuru out of magnanimity. There was excruciating self-interest.
Between 2013 and 2017, Ruto tasted the power of co-presidency. He was controlling 50 per cent of government. The prospect of controlling 100 per cent, via Uhuru presidency, was a craving for self-interest. It wasn't altruism.
There was seduction of the steak the former Eldoret North MP had enjoyed when he 'helped' President Moi during the turbulent 1990s. Then, the forces of progress were clamouring for multi-party democracy.
There is a tempestuous subtext to the DP's marketing gig. He is aware of the ramble in the mountain. He is aware of the Kikuyu consciousness of its voting potential. He is also aware his prey is motivated by the experience of having power, seeing it threatened, and trying to win it back.
A section of the DP's Central Kenya audience believe Ruto is their best bet to perpetuate the Kikuyu-Kalenjin stranglehold on State power. The two communities have controlled State power out-of-turn since Independence.
Founding President Jomo Kenyatta ruled for 15 years – most of it after betraying his fellow voyeurs. Moi succeeded Kenyatta and reigned for 24 years. Mwai Kibaki ruled for 10 years, after perching through the 'help' of Raila Odinga, who was the Rainbow change campaign manager of 2002.
Ruto's marketing gig rolls: He helped Moi to fight democratic forces during the 1990s. In turn he was MP; assistant minister, and later Cabinet minister with unlimited access to the citadel.
He helped Kibaki to fight then raging Orange Democratic Movement between 2008 and 2013. ODM leader Raila was then fighting to save the Mau Forest, an endangered key water tower invaded under the Moi presidency.
Ruto says he also 'helped' Raila in 2007 to 'help' Kenyans establish a progressive government. Do these episodes of 'help' make Ruto a magnanimous 'helper' who needs to be helped?
Before Covid-19 it was the politics of paying historical debts. Now, 'helping' is being sneaked into the political parlance.
Vulnerable voters out there are not being 'helped'. Neither are congregations that hanker for political donations. They are being lured into a relationship in which they are no better than doormats.
Voters beware of deception masquerading as magnanimity. Sheep don't lie; they don't deceive. A fox donning a sheepskin can sneak into the chicken coop.