The conversation about influence, power, and credibility in Kenya’s digital space has taken a sharp turn, with activist Gaitho openly calling out comedian and influencer Jaymo Ule Msee as an example of what happens when popularity is traded for political comfort. The criticism is not about comedy losing value, but about trust running out.
For years, Jaymo enjoyed a privileged position online. At a time when Kenyan social media was still growing, few creators had large audiences, and even fewer had the backing of power.
His skits spread fast, his face became familiar, and brands and political players found him useful.
According to Gaitho, Jaymo’s success was less about creative brilliance and more about timing and alignment. He was in the right place, saying the right things, while benefiting from a system that rewarded loyalty over truth.
Gaitho argues that Jaymo’s content went beyond jokes. He believes the comedy played a role in softening public anger during a period marked by corruption, violence, and broken promises.
Serious national issues were turned into light moments, leaders were humanised through humour, and young audiences were encouraged to laugh instead of question. In return, Jaymo allegedly enjoyed money, protection, and status. For a while, the arrangement worked.
Influencer Jaymo Ule Msee. Photo Courtesy: Instagram.
But the digital space did not stay the same. More Kenyans came online, more creators emerged, and the audience matured. People began demanding honesty, courage, and clear positions on issues that affect their lives.
Content that avoided hard truths started to feel empty. Gaitho says this is where Jaymo began to struggle. The same jokes, the same style, and the same silence on painful national matters no longer impressed anyone paying attention.
He points to recent public episodes as signs of decline. Emotional outbursts online, sudden religious shifts, and unclear political moves are described as reactions to pressure rather than growth. In Gaitho’s view, when influence fades and money slows, confusion follows. Personal life begins to feel the weight first, and no public image can fully cover that strain.
The idea of Jaymo running for Nairobi Senate is also questioned. Gaitho argues that few people took it seriously because Jaymo’s political loyalty appears flexible.
When an influencer has a history of siding with power, people assume their views can be bought. Once that perception sets in, credibility is lost. Followers may remain, but belief disappears.
Gaitho’s core message is that influence without trust is useless. He describes Jaymo as someone with big numbers but no authority, visible online but disconnected from real public sentiment. The audience, he says, can sense self-censorship and fear. Even when engagement looks high, respect quietly dies.
This criticism goes beyond one individual. It is a warning to influencers, bloggers, comedians, and content creators who choose comfort over honesty. The Kenyan audience is changing. It no longer rewards safe silence or recycled jokes used to protect power. Authentic voices, even when small, now carry more weight than polished sellouts with massive platforms.
According to Gaitho, the decline may be slow and public, filled with forced reinventions and awkward attempts to stay relevant.
