- The ruling party is talking to its former opponents. Opposition leaders are talking to one another.
- Parties are exploring alliances, movements are finding their place, and political principals are working through who should lead, who should follow and who should carry the flag.
As we approach
another election, Kenyan politics is beginning to resemble a giant negotiation
table.
The ruling party
is talking to its former opponents. Opposition leaders are talking to one
another. Parties are exploring alliances, movements are finding their place,
and political principals are working through who should lead, who should follow
and who should carry the flag.
There are meetings
about meetings, consultations about consultations, and negotiations over the
terms of the next political arrangement.
And all of this is
perfectly legitimate. In a democracy, political parties are entitled to
negotiate, form coalitions and seek the numbers they need to govern.
But somewhere in
all this political arithmetic, I have a question.
Where are the
people?
Not the people as
a voting bloc. Not the people as a regional stronghold. Not the numbers a
politician claims to command. The actual people. The young Kenyan looking for
work. The parent struggling with school fees. The household trying to make its
income stretch to the end of the month. The citizen who wants a functioning
hospital, accountable government and a police service that protects rather than
intimidates.
What, precisely,
are they being offered in exchange for their votes?
Across the
political divide, formations are negotiating their futures. The ruling
coalition is discussing electoral cooperation and a shared programme. The
United Opposition, DCP, Linda Mwananchi and other formations are grappling with
alliances, competing ambitions and how to approach the next election.
There is nothing
inherently wrong with political alliances. They can bring together different
constituencies and ideas to build a broader governing programme. But a
coalition is a means to an end. It is not the end itself.
And this is where
the questions become important. Beyond negotiations over who gets the
presidential ticket, who becomes running mate, which party gets which seats and
how political interests will be accommodated, what exactly are these alliances
agreeing to do for the country?
Because there is a
difference between agreeing on who should govern and agreeing on how the
country should be governed.
Political
formations can unite around the desire to win an election without necessarily
agreeing on what they would do with power. They can agree on a candidate and
still disagree on taxation, public debt, jobs, policing, public services and
the reforms needed to make government more accountable.
These are not
minor details to be worked out after the election. They are the substance of
the mandate being sought from the people.
To the ruling
coalition, the questions are straightforward: Beyond sharing political power,
what specific and measurable commitments will define your joint programme? What
happens to existing promises and reform commitments, and how will citizens
assess whether they have been honoured?
To the United
Opposition, DCP, Linda Mwananchi and other formations seeking to build an
alternative, the questions are equally direct. Beyond agreeing that you want a
different government, what do you agree should replace the current one? Where
do you differ on the policies that will shape the lives of Kenyans? And how
will those differences be resolved?
It is not enough
to tell Kenyans you can defeat the other side. You must explain what you intend
to do with the opportunity to govern.
There is also the
question of who gets a say in these negotiations. What role will ordinary party
members and citizens play in selecting candidates and shaping policy? Or will
decisions be made by a handful of political principals and presented to the public
as a fait accompli?
After all,
politicians routinely invoke the people. They speak of their regions, their
bases and their voting blocs. They talk about delivering communities, securing
constituencies and taking votes from their opponents.
But no politician
owns a community's votes. No party has a permanent entitlement to a region.
Citizens are not political property to be transferred from one alliance to
another. Their allegiance is not an asset to be traded between political
principals.
The opposition
must be asked to explain what it would do with power just as rigorously as the
government must account for what it has done with power. Wanting a different
government is not, on its own, a governing programme. Equally, having a
programme does not exempt a government from scrutiny over its delivery.
Citizens should
not have to choose between competing personalities without understanding the
choices before them. What are the priorities? How will they be financed? What
will be done first? What safeguards will prevent the next administration from
repeating the mistakes of the last?
These are the
questions that should drive the national conversation, not merely speculation
about who is meeting whom and who might be offered what position.
Ultimately,
political alliances are not the destination. They are a means to an end: a
programme of government that improves lives, protects rights and uses public
resources responsibly.
So, as politicians
negotiate the terms of the next election, citizens should insist on negotiating
their own terms, too.
What are you
committing to? How will you pay for it? How will we measure your performance?
And what consequences will you face if you fail?
The presidency is
not a prize to be won and divided among political allies. It is a public trust.
The power being sought is borrowed from the people.
Before politicians
finish deciding who gets what, Kenyans should be asking a more fundamental
question:
What, exactly, are
we getting?
That’s my take.