Forget manifestos. Elections in Kenya are decided by village political fixers with basic education and questionable integrity, writes JACK DANIELS
He burst into the public relations office of a government ministry bristling with authority, unwanted and unwelcome.
“Who is in charge here?” the bellicose fellow bellowed.
The young officer he was addressing looked up, bemused.
“Where is your boss!” the visitor barked once more.
“Not in,” replied the quietly seething civil servant, adding through gritted teeth, “How may I help you, sir?”
“My names (sic) are Kioko!” he snapped back, looking mildly drunk. “Your minister is my personal friend. I usually get something from this department every year. I want an umbrella and a T-shirt!” he bellowed. “And a kofia! (cap)” he added for good measure.
Unfortunately, there were no umbrellas, T-shirts, kofias, umbrellas or goodies of whatever kind to dish out. The highly connected visitor did not take kindly to the news.
Fired
“I will call the minister who is my close friend and have everybody in this department fired! You will all go home!” he spluttered, the fault lines in his fragile ego all too visible through glassy, blood-shot eyes, saliva spitting from his mouth.
In your average public office, a lot of unsavoury traffic walks through the doors. However, it is true that some of these uncouth name-droppers wield so much power at the grassroots that they truly have ministers and MPs on speed dial.
How does it get to be so? Well, politics in Kenya is a rough and tumble affair largely because a huge swathe of the electorate is poor, illiterate and drunk most of the time.
Latest Stories
- Salva Kiir sacks top South Sudan officials
- Lawyer wants Chinedu to appear in court
- Maji marefu’s futile effort to find stolen property
- Can chickens really be cleverer than a toddler? Studies suggest animals can master numeracy and basic engineering
- Freedom of media under threat in Eastern Africa
- Rapid desertification in Kenya threatening livelihood

















