In 2007, Kenya witnessed one of the darkest chapters in its history. Over 1,100 people were killed and more than 600,000 displaced following post-election violence fueled by political rivalry and tribal manipulation. The conflict was not between ordinary citizens — it was between communities pitted against each other by politicians hungry for power.
Today, that dangerous rhetoric seems to be creeping back. Voices like Mutahi Kahiga, Gladys Wanga, Peter Kaluma, William Kamket, Oscar Sudi, and Githinji are reviving divisive tones that mirror the tension that once tore this nation apart. The political drums are beating again, and once more, the focus is not on unity or development, but on 2027 elections.
Kenyans Are Not Enemies — Politicians Are the Problem
It must be said clearly: Kikuyus do not hate Luos, Luos do not hate Kalenjins, and Kenyans do not hate each other. Ordinary citizens live together peacefully — they trade, intermarry, and share neighborhoods without fear. The hatred we see during election seasons is artificial, manufactured by politicians who weaponize ethnicity to secure votes.
Every time we allow politicians to dictate our relationships through tribal narratives, we give them power to divide us. It is foolish for struggling Kenyans to proudly declare, “Serikali ni yetu sasa,” while they continue to suffer under high taxes, unemployment, and corruption. Bad governance does not discriminate — it hurts the poor across all tribes.
Unity Is Our Only Strength
Those who cheer for political leaders simply because they share a surname or tribal origin are playing into the same dangerous politics that burned Kenya in 2007. When you cannot question your leader’s failures because of tribe, you have become a prisoner of tribal loyalty.
As citizens, we must reclaim our power. We must reject leaders who thrive on division and refuse to fall for the propaganda that portrays critics as enemies of “our people.” The real enemies are corruption, inequality, and bad governance — not our fellow Kenyans.
Let us remember that in poverty, inflation, or joblessness, there are no tribes. There is no Kikuyu hunger or Luo poverty. We all face the same struggles.
A Call to Conscience
Kenya can still rise above its past. The image of 2007 — of burning homes, displaced families, and bloodshed — must never be repeated. The likes of Githinji looking around and realizing “they are so few” is a reminder that the divisive rhetoric of politicians serves no one but themselves.
Ordinary Kenyans — whether Luhya, Somali, Kamba, Turkana, Kikuyu, Luo, or Kalenjin — must stand together and send a message: Never Again.
It is time to unite beyond tribe, reject those who incite division, and build a nation bound not by ethnicity, but by truth, justice, and shared destiny.
