Gachagua’s ‘Family’ Narrative: A Strategy to Rebuild Kikuyu Power, Not National Unity. The impeached Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua has sparked a political storm with his latest call for unity among Bantu-speaking communities. He frames this as a “family matter,” asking why it is wrong for related communities—Kikuyu, Kamba, Luhya, Kisii, Taita, Taveta, and Mijikenda—to come together and “reclaim” power. But beneath the soft language of kinship lies a more strategic, and arguably cynical, political play: rebuilding Kikuyu political dominance by rallying other Bantu tribes to a cause they have historically been excluded from.
This is not just about political alliances. It’s about who gets to enjoy development, infrastructure, and national influence—and who has historically been left behind.
Selective Development: The Central Kenya Advantage
When Kikuyus and Kalenjins have held the presidency, patterns of regional favoritism have emerged consistently.
Take the Thika Superhighway, one of Kenya’s most celebrated road projects. While it benefited the broader economy, its routing—stretching deep into Central Kenya—symbolized state-sanctioned regional prioritization. Towns in Nyeri, Murang’a, and Kiambu boast fully tarmacked roads, upgraded water systems, and steady electricity while many counties in Western, Coast, and Nyanza still grapple with mud roads and unstable power.
Or consider the fish processing plant in Thika—a town not remotely associated with large-scale fishing. While Lake Victoria supplies over 80% of Kenya’s fish, it is Nyanza that sends the raw product while Central Kenya reaps the economic rewards through industrialization and job creation.
This pattern reinforces the sense that under Kikuyu-led regimes, economic infrastructure is not about national equity—it’s about ethnic consolidation.
Uhuru Kenyatta’s Naivasha Port Relocation
Perhaps the most telling move was during Uhuru Kenyatta’s presidency, when the inland container depot (ICD)—originally part of Mombasa’s port ecosystem—was shifted to Naivasha, a Kikuyu stronghold. This wasn’t just administrative; it crippled Mombasa’s port economy, leading to job losses and economic decline in the Coast region, which predominantly supported the opposition.
By relocating the economic gateway of the nation to a Kikuyu zone, Uhuru’s administration ensured Central Kenya would control freight movement, land speculation, and regional trade corridors, giving it economic leverage long after his term ended.
This development pattern was not about shared prosperity. It was about entrenching ethnic economic power.
Now Out of Power, the Tone Has Changed
Today, Gachagua is appealing to other Bantu communities to rally behind him—framing it as a reunion of cultural cousins. But when Kikuyu elites held the levers of power, these same Bantu communities were largely excluded from key state appointments and large-scale development projects.
The Luhya, Kamba, and Mijikenda were not part of the economic spoils. Roads, hospitals, industries, and strategic institutions rarely found their way into their regions unless they were politically useful. Now that Kikuyu dominance is at risk, the narrative has shifted from exclusivity to unity.
This raises a critical question: Is Gachagua’s “family talk” a genuine call for unity—or just a political tactic to regain control by using others’ numbers?
The Ruto Factor: Disrupting the Tribal Monopoly
President William Ruto’s rise disrupted the traditional Kikuyu-Kalenjin power axis. Unlike previous regimes, his administration has deliberately invested in regions like Nyanza, Coast, and Western Kenya. This equitable development model has started challenging long-standing notions that power and development are synonymous.
Yet, Gachagua and a faction of Central Kenya leaders seem uncomfortable with this shift. Their push to consolidate Bantu unity suggests an unwillingness to operate under a balanced national framework. Instead, they are crafting a majority ethnic alliance to override smaller coalitions in 2027 and 2032.
Final Thoughts: Kenya Needs Equity, Not Ethnic Alliances
Kenyans have suffered enough from ethnic power monopolies disguised as national unity. If Gachagua and his allies are serious about healing the country and building prosperity, they must start by acknowledging past imbalances—not just asking for votes.
Development should follow need, not tribe. Power should reflect competence, not closeness to the mountain. And unity should mean nationhood, not ethnic arithmetic.
As we approach future elections, Kenyans must reject calls rooted in nostalgia for dominance. Instead, they must demand inclusive leadership, fair distribution of resources, and development for all—not just for the powerful’s backyard.
