By Billy Gichohi
As Kenya currently crackles with a perilous energy, we hardly realise that we are racing against time, against each other and oftentimes, against imagined foes. And as we witlessly entertain needless political flare-ups, we allow accusations and counter accusations to fly like shrapnel thus escalating an already poisoned atmosphere. That is how we end up burning a country just like nitwits who would cut off their noses to spite their faces.
To some, President William Ruto’s warning that we have in our midst “criminals disguised as protesters” is another idle political statement. In reality, ethnic warlords, local agents of international economic hit men and shadowy buccaneers lurking in our midst are our worst enemies. Criminals posing as protestors and other enemies of Kenya from within and without make our frenzied sprint toward 2027 a catastrophe in waiting.
The tragedy fuelled by internal and external sabotage that is unfolding is not merely one of political disagreement. Rather, it is a calculated hijacking of legitimate grievance by forces utterly devoid of patriotism and bent on decimating Kenya’s soul. Most of the wails in the air are cynically amplified and twisted views peddled by a choir of doomsday agents out to burn Kenya with their gang of arsonists for whom chaos is the primary objective.
These are the people orchestrating the looting sprees that follow peaceful demonstrations. They are the ones infiltrating crowds, their faces obscured not by poverty, but by malicious intent. They transform pleas for economic relief into orgies of destruction. To dismiss these actors as mere “hooligans” is dangerous naivety. These are saboteurs, funded, directed, and utterly indifferent to Kenya’s survival.
Who benefits from a Kenya perpetually on the brink? Look beyond the smokescreen of political rhetoric. Ethnic warlords, those relics of a divisive past we desperately need to bury, see fertile ground in the ashes of national unity. They stoke ancient embers, whispering poison into vulnerable ears while recruiting foot soldiers from the ranks of the disillusioned. Their power thrives not on development or national progress, but on fear, tribalism, and the fragmentation of the Kenyan identity. They are the ultimate beneficiaries of a nation perpetually at war with itself.
Then there is the league of economic predators, both local and international. These are the local agents of international economic hit men and phantoms. They are real, embedded in the corridors of power and the shadows of commerce. They exploit instability to manipulate markets and drive away investments.
The toxic political atmosphere in Kenya today is propelling us towards a potential bloodbath come the 2027 elections. This atmosphere deliberately poisoned daily can easily turn tragic. Accusations fly with reckless abandon, devoid of evidence, designed solely to dehumanise the “other side.” Social media, our modern public square, is awash with venomous propaganda, and incitement, often traceable to shadowy troll farms and disinformation merchants serving hidden masters.
We are playing directly into the hands of every enemy Kenya has, both foreign and domestic. Every business torched is a job lost, a family pushed deeper into poverty, and a victory for those who want Kenya weak and broken. Every instance of ethnic profiling, every hate speech uttered from a political platform, strengthens the warlords and weakens our national fabric. Every day spent locked in paralyzing political theatrics while the economy bleeds is a day the economic hit men celebrate.
Ours has become a metastasising cancer. The criminals, warlords, and economic buccaneers live among us. They are not abstract concepts as many would want to think. Instead, they are threats thriving on our divisions and our distraction. They laugh as we burn the house down, believing we are merely punishing the landlord but hardly realising we are destroying our only shelter.
To continue this frenzied, witless sprint towards 2027 without confronting our real enemies is the worst form of national suicide. Kenya is worth more than being fuel for the arsonists’ fire. It is time to recognise the enemy within the chaos and choose survival over self-immolation. The clock is ticking and the time to say no is now.
Gichohi is an aspiring politician currently working for a Nairobi-based international organisation that supports small-scale farmers undertaking transformative farming projects in East Africa.
