Goons in Kenya
As political rhetoric heats up and incidents of violence multiply, the country faces a familiar question it has never fully answered
By Collins Kibet
Kenya is once again entering a politically sensitive period, and the warning signs are becoming difficult to ignore. As politicians position themselves for the 2027 general election, rhetoric is intensifying, rival camps are growing more confrontational and incidents of violence at political gatherings are raising an uncomfortable question that Kenyans have faced before: is the country drifting towards another election in which political competition threatens national peace?
Recent violence surrounding political rallies has revived memories of Kenya’s painful electoral history. Political competition is a fundamental feature of democracy. Violence is not. Kenya has lived through the consequences of allowing political disagreement to spill into organised destruction, and the cost — measured in lives lost, businesses ruined, communities fractured and years of economic damage — is well documented. The country cannot afford to treat fresh warning signs as routine news.
The responsibility for what happens next does not belong to politicians alone. Political parties, government institutions, security agencies, the media, civil society and ordinary citizens all have a role to play in preventing an atmosphere where violence becomes normalised. Every incident, however small, should be treated as a warning that demands a serious response — not a headline to scroll past and forget.
For ordinary Kenyans, political instability carries a heavy personal cost. Businesses close, investments stall, transport is disrupted and families become anxious about their safety. The people who suffer most are rarely the politicians competing for power. They are the young people searching for work, the traders trying to protect their livelihoods and the families stretching tight budgets further than they should have to. Political leaders who understand this reality must also understand that careless statements, inflammatory rallies and the deliberate mobilisation of supporters against opponents carry consequences that extend far beyond the campaign trail.
The 2027 election is still ahead, but the environment surrounding it is already being shaped. That creates an opportunity to act before tensions become entrenched. Political leaders must demonstrate that they can disagree without turning supporters against one another. Opposition figures should be free to criticise government without being painted as enemies of the state. Government leaders must tolerate scrutiny as part of democratic life. Parties should compete fiercely, but within the law.
Security agencies carry their own distinct responsibility. The state must protect the right to peaceful political participation while dealing firmly and impartially with those who organise or incite violence. Security forces must not become a political instrument deployed selectively against opponents of those in power. Equally, political actors must not exploit public demonstrations as opportunities to provoke confrontation or pit communities against each other.
Perhaps the deepest responsibility belongs to Kenyan voters. Citizens must resist the idea that political loyalty requires defending wrongdoing. A politician is not a family member who must be protected regardless of their conduct. Leaders should be judged by their policies, their integrity, their performance and their capacity to improve people’s lives. Kenya does not need politicians who can fill a field. It needs leaders who can answer difficult questions about jobs, the cost of living, public debt, corruption, healthcare, education and economic opportunity.
Those are the questions that should define the road to 2027. Political debate, however, has a well-established tendency to become consumed by personalities, insults and accusations while the economic pressures facing ordinary Kenyans go unaddressed. A young person without work does not need a political confrontation — they need an opportunity. A small trader does not need political violence — they need a stable environment. A family does not need intimidation — it needs security and a credible reason for hope.
Kenya must also reckon honestly with where political violence actually begins. It rarely starts with stones or fire. It begins earlier — with inflammatory language, deliberate misinformation, ethnic mobilisation and the calculated creation of fear. When that behaviour is tolerated or ignored, it gradually becomes accepted as part of how politics is done. That normalisation is where the real danger lives.
Kenya’s future does not have to follow the pattern of its past. The country has institutions, laws and a citizenry capable of defending democratic values. What is required is political maturity and a collective refusal to allow elections to become a justification for harm. Winning an election means little if the country is left divided and wounded in the process. Losing should never become a justification for destabilising the nation.
The 2027 general election should be remembered as a moment when Kenyans demonstrated that political competition and national unity can coexist. The country is capable of proving that democracy is stronger than political hatred, that disputes can be resolved without violence and that leadership is ultimately about serving citizens rather than mobilising them against one another.
The question is no longer simply who will win in 2027. The larger question is whether Kenya can compete for power without putting its peace at risk. The answer will be shaped by what political leaders, institutions and citizens choose to do now — not when the campaign reaches its most volatile stage.
Kenya has been here before. The consequences of getting it wrong are already written into the country’s history. The responsibility now lies with everyone to ensure the next electoral contest becomes a demonstration of democratic maturity rather than another chapter of fear, destruction and division.
Kenya must compete for power without losing its soul.