The Long Embrace That Never Came
There was a moment in late 2022 when the whispers got louder. Photos circulated. Smiles were exchanged. Raila Odinga stood next to William Ruto, not as an enemy, not as a rival, but with the kind of forced familiarity that suggested an alignment was brewing. But Kenyans didn’t buy it. It wasn’t new. They’d seen this movie. They remembered 2018. They remembered how it ended.
The people standing in line for unga, waiting hours at NHIF offices, begging landlords for a few more days, saw the handshake theatre for what it was. Performance. Nothing real had changed. Not then. Not now. And they knew that any so-called deal between Raila and Ruto wouldn’t feed them either.
Loyalty Has a Shelf Life
The Raila of 2005 is not the Raila of 2025. And Ruto knows it. So does every voter under thirty-five. Loyalty in politics doesn’t stretch across decades. Not when you keep sitting at tables with the very people you spent your life saying were the problem. That inconsistency sticks.
It’s no longer about who Raila was, or who he said he was. It’s about who he’s willing to work with today, after everything. Ruto isn’t asking for advice. He’s asking for endorsement. But that endorsement comes with baggage that today’s voter wants nothing to do with.
The Youth Don’t Care About Handshakes
In the slums of Kibra, the villages of Siaya, the apartments of Umoja, there’s a fatigue that even propaganda can’t wash away. The young voter is tired of smiles between men in suits. They’ve watched too many deals happen on podiums and end in press conferences that promise change and deliver nothing.
They care about food prices, they care about fees, they care about Wi-Fi. They don’t see how Raila sitting next to Ruto changes any of those things. If anything, it makes them trust both less. When your heroes start shaking hands with the villains of your struggle, the whole fight starts to feel fake.
Ruto’s Problem Isn’t Raila — It’s Himself
When Ruto won in 2022, he came in with noise and muscle. He had the wheelbarrow. He had the hustler song. He had the rage of the counties. But two years later, the heat has cooled, and the slogans sound hollow. No amount of Raila’s blessing can fix that.
Ruto’s government has stumbled through scandal, angered civil servants, drained wallets. He can’t mask failure with alliances. The people who voted for him expected action. Not alliances. Not Raila. Raila joining his side doesn’t fix the roads in Trans Nzoia or pay nurses in Migori.
The Hustler Story No Longer Sells
The hustler narrative worked once. It sounded real. It touched nerves. But now the same hustlers are watching government tenders go to friends of friends. They’re watching taxes rise while State House throws parties. They’re watching a man who claimed to fight for the poor, dine with billionaires.
Throwing Raila into this mix doesn’t clean the story. It muddies it further. The people who believed in Ruto believed he was different from Raila. Merging them strips both of any meaning. It’s like selling a broken radio as new just by slapping a different sticker on it.
Kenya Is Not a Transaction
Power deals are sold like merchandise. And Kenyans are treated like customers who must buy what’s put on the shelf. But this time, the shelf is dusty. Ruto and Raila shaking hands won’t convince a single mother in Kawangware that her life will change.
This isn’t 2002. It isn’t 2007. It isn’t 2013. The voter has changed. The voter can read between the lines. And the voter has seen what these alignments lead to: positions for friends, contracts for relatives, silence for dissenters. Raila helping Ruto isn’t strategy. It’s fatigue.
Raila Is Not the Messiah of Power Deals
For too long, Raila has been the fallback plan. When Jubilee struggled, he became the Band-Aid. When Ruto needed insulation, he tried to pull Raila closer. But there’s nothing fresh in that.
Power doesn’t pass through one man’s voice anymore. Raila doesn’t control the streets. He doesn’t control the hunger. He doesn’t control the disappointment. All he has is history. And history isn’t enough to deliver ballots anymore.
The Betrayals People Don’t Forget
Kenyans have long memories when they want to. They remember being tear-gassed in streets shouting Raila’s name. They remember fasting for reforms. They remember believing. Then they remember watching him smile next to Uhuru.
If Raila tries to walk into 2027 with Ruto, it won’t be forgiveness that greets him. It’ll be questions. And silence. The crowd won’t boo. They won’t cheer. They’ll walk away. That’s worse. Indifference is death in politics. Ruto should be worried about that silence too.
A Country That Outgrew Political Brokerage
Ruto wants the election to be a chess game. If Raila supports him, then the mountain might follow. If Raila plays neutral, then the opposition might splinter. That’s the logic. But it’s stale. The country has grown past that.
This isn’t about Raila refusing to help. It’s about Kenya no longer needing him to. The votes won’t come through meetings at Safari Park. They’ll come from WhatsApp groups, boda riders, teachers, students, the unemployed, the forgotten. And they’re not picking sides based on who met who at State House.
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