What if the biggest problem with Kenya's leadership is not just the politicians we elect, but the political culture we have allowed to survive?
Every five years, millions of Kenyans queue at polling stations, hopeful that their votes will bring change. We campaign, argue, defend political sides, mobilize our communities and sometimes turn against one another in the name of political loyalty.
Then, after the elections, the familiar conversations return. We complain about corruption, unemployment, poor public services, unfulfilled promises and leaders who seem to have forgotten the very people who put them in office.
And almost immediately, the blame game begins.
We blame voters for electing leaders along tribal lines. We blame politicians for exploiting poverty. We blame young people for staying away from the ballot. We blame political parties for presenting questionable candidates and institutions for failing to enforce accountability.
But how much of this responsibility belongs to each of us?
Perhaps we have become so comfortable blaming one another that we have forgotten to examine the bigger picture: What kind of political environment are we collectively creating, and what does it reward?
Is it one that rewards integrity, competence and service, or one where political loyalty, financial influence and ethnic mobilization can overshadow a candidate's record?
This is a difficult conversation, but one Kenya needs to have as we approach the 2027 General Election.
Perhaps it is time to stop asking only who elected poor leaders and start asking why our political system and society continue to make room for the same leadership challenges.
Every five years, millions of Kenyans queue at polling stations, hopeful that their votes will bring change. We campaign, argue, defend political sides, mobilize our communities and sometimes turn against one another in the name of political loyalty.
Then, after the elections, the familiar conversations return. We complain about corruption, unemployment, poor public services, unfulfilled promises and leaders who seem to have forgotten the very people who put them in office.
And almost immediately, the blame game begins.
We blame voters for electing leaders along tribal lines. We blame politicians for exploiting poverty. We blame young people for staying away from the ballot. We blame political parties for presenting questionable candidates and institutions for failing to enforce accountability.
But how much of this responsibility belongs to each of us?
Perhaps we have become so comfortable blaming one another that we have forgotten to examine the bigger picture: What kind of political environment are we collectively creating, and what does it reward?
Is it one that rewards integrity, competence and service, or one where political loyalty, financial influence and ethnic mobilization can overshadow a candidate's record?
This is a difficult conversation, but one Kenya needs to have as we approach the 2027 General Election.
Perhaps it is time to stop asking only who elected poor leaders and start asking why our political system and society continue to make room for the same leadership challenges.