Personal Encounter with Broken Promises
I remember the day I watched Ruto speak in Kisumu. The sun was unforgiving, yet the crowd stood still—held by a man who claimed to speak for the poor, for the hustlers, for the forgotten. His words sliced through the air like balm on wounds that had long gone untreated. He spoke of fairness, of uplifting the grassroots, of cutting off the hands that dip into public coffers. In that moment, I allowed myself to believe—if not in the man, then at least in the possibility of change.
But belief comes at a price. Behind the speeches was a silent empire built on backroom deals. Projects were awarded without due process. The Sh129 billion “tree-planting” initiative—a project meant to symbolize environmental renewal—turned out to be a massive cover-up for siphoning public funds. Justin Muturi, once a close ally, revealed how the program bypassed critical legal review. This wasn’t an oversight. It was a deliberate attempt to rush money into private pockets before the law could catch up. The rhetoric of change collapsed under the weight of greed.
Power Grab Dressed As Progress
When protests erupted in 2024 over the Finance Bill, it felt like a national pulse waking up. Kenyans had had enough. The streets spoke. The youth mobilized. There was hope that, finally, the president would listen. Instead, Ruto reshuffled his cabinet—not to heal wounds, but to cement control. The so-called “new blood” brought into government were familiar names from a circle of old power. It was less a cabinet than a clique of loyalty-tested insiders.
Opposition leaders were lured into government with promises of shared governance, but their inclusion only served to muffle criticism. Meanwhile, those who dared challenge the regime’s excesses were pushed to the sidelines or labeled enemies of progress. As the Finance Bill passed amid a national outcry, there were no apologies. Just silence. The people bled, and the system carried on unfazed. In Ruto’s Kenya, reform was not about progress—it was about power consolidation dressed in a reformist mask.
Ethnic Favoritism Torching National Unity
Kenya has always struggled with tribal politics, but under Ruto, that struggle turned into full-scale betrayal. His administration leaned heavily on ethnic appointments, favoring his closest allies from specific communities while ignoring the rest of the country. Critical ministries and parastatals became tokens of ethnic patronage, handed out to loyalists as rewards for political obedience rather than competence.
The consequences of this favoritism have been severe. Entire regions have been locked out of development funds. Roads that were once promised remain unbuilt. Hospitals go without medicine. Schools without teachers. The message is clear—support the regime, or get nothing. It’s a dangerous precedent that fractures national cohesion. Where we once hoped to be one Kenya, we now find ourselves in silos of tribal suspicion, each corner of the country left to fend for itself. Ruto didn’t just fail to heal the divisions; he fanned the flames.
When Cabinet Became Cash Cows
Scandal has become a regular fixture in Ruto’s government, not an exception. His administration didn’t invent theft—but it industrialized it. Stories of ministers living far beyond their means have become routine. State contracts ballooned to double or triple their actual cost. Some ministries signed off on payments for services that were never delivered. Ghost projects, ghost suppliers—real money gone, and real people suffering.
The ghosts of Arror and Kimwarer returned. Billions meant for development were siphoned with military precision. Dams weren’t built, yet payments were made. Meanwhile, Ruto has never explained how Weston Hotel came to sit on public land. The Ngong Forest grab still lingers in the background. Each scandal passes like a dark cloud—visible to all, but followed by no storm of justice. No top official has faced trial, let alone jail. The message is clear: in Ruto’s cabinet, corruption isn’t punished—it’s protected.
Young Voices, Silenced by Fear
June 25, 2024, should have sparked national reckoning. It didn’t. What started as peaceful demonstrations over an unfair tax regime ended in a bloodbath. Over twenty protesters were killed. Most were under 30. They were unarmed, waving flags, singing freedom songs. In response, the state deployed plainclothes officers. Some used live bullets. Others dragged activists from their homes. For many, that day was the last they were seen alive.
The crackdown didn’t end with the protests. A wave of fear spread across Kenya. Youth organizers received threatening calls. Some disappeared. Others fled into hiding. Social media accounts fell silent. The government did not acknowledge any wrongdoing. Instead, it called the protests “sponsored chaos” and blamed foreign influence. The real fear wasn’t in the streets—it was in the State House. A regime afraid of youth power. A regime willing to crush it to survive.
It’s Not Too Late—Our Power, Our Choice
This isn’t the first time we’ve been lied to. Nor will it be the last—unless we act. The names change, the slogans shift, but the game remains the same. Politicians promise revolution and deliver regression. They come poor and leave rich. They cry with the common man and then dine with billionaires. It’s a cycle. And breaking it starts with us.
Voting is just one part of it. We must also organize, scrutinize, and challenge. County governments, MPs, senators—all must be held accountable. The presidency isn’t the only place where rot festers. Every stolen shilling at the local level starves a child somewhere. Every fake tender builds a politician’s mansion. We can no longer be passive. The future is shaped not by those in power, but by those who dare to resist them.
Call to Action: Join the Conversation
Silence helped this rot grow. It won’t end with silence. We need noise. Loud, unapologetic noise. Don’t just sit back and scroll. Speak up. Ask questions. Challenge your leaders. Attend ward barazas. Demand open budgeting. Expose shady deals. Talk to your neighbors. Talk to your co-workers. Join online forums like www.wantamnotam.com. Share your story. Hear others out. Let truth be louder than propaganda.
Democracy dies in whispers. But it thrives in conversation. This is your country. Your taxes. Your future. Don’t wait for someone else to save it. Start the conversation. Light the fire. If we speak now, we can stop the next lie before it takes root. If we speak now, we can end this era of betrayal. If we speak now, we win.
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