Kenyans deserve better than this unending political spectacle

A week ago, a Sunday worship service at St Peter’s Anglican Church of Kenya in Othaya, Nyeri County, was violently disrupted when tear gas and live ammunition were unleashed on worshippers, who included children and former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua. For the public, this was a moment of shock as what should have been a quiet moment of spiritual reflection turned into chaos inside a sacred space. The official police account suggests that a tear gas canister was thrown into the church compound, forcing worshippers to flee.

But beyond shock, this should also serve as a moment of reflection on how Kenyan politics is designed and orchestrated. This episode has come to embody a deeper and more troubling trend: The transformation of the political landscape into a form of spectacle. Kenyans have become desensitised to the fact that our lives are being governed and determined through political theatre, and our leaders are decided based on these charades.

Political theatre refers to the use of dramatic, often manufactured events designed not necessarily to address real issues, but to capture media attention, manipulate public perception, or consolidate political narratives. This describes much of capitalist politics. Unfortunately for Kenyans, the political circus does not begin to play out just before the elections. For many years now, we have been subjected to constant political drama, and it has become anecdotal that politicians will politic for the next election as soon as the previous one has been determined.

Political theatre thrives on farce and friction. By repeatedly framing political competition as a battle between a narrow set of personalities, in this case Gachagua and President William Ruto, the nation is at risk of missing the bigger picture. This narrative can distract from the wholesome diversity of voices and alternatives in Kenya’s political ecosystem, making Kenya’s democracy feel like a two-actor show rather than a vibrant, representative polity.

Indeed, the media is guilty in pushing the two-man narrative from one electoral cycle to another, and painting any other candidates as being incapable or even comical. Strongman politics carry the day here, and these are as much determined through wealth as through media attention. In reality, the firing of Gachagua as deputy president should have brought his sorry story to a sudden halt, but the media has ensured that his name lives on in perpetuity, granting him endless interviews which provided him with unneeded airtime. The end result could have only been one: Gachagua is now viewed as a political kingpin with skin in the game come 2027.

The key danger of political spectacle is that it often benefits power structures rather than people. A narrow focus on two political figures dominating the narrative risks shaping a national narrative that tells us who we must focus on and who we must not. In this drama, actual lives are lost, and these are counted as collateral damage on the path to success. This kind of curatorial politics benefits those who already have name recognition, campaign machinery, and access to media platforms. It squeezes out new voices, fresh ideas, and alternatives that might better speak to the needs of ordinary Kenyans. It also encourages political actors to stage ever more dramatic confrontations to stay relevant, worsening the cycle of conflict and distraction. But Kenyans deserve much more than pre-prepared narratives of leadership.

It is high time that the media allows Kenyans the space to imagine. Naturally, the news that sells the most is what will be highlighted, but the media have great power, too, in determining what news will in fact sell. It is a powerful message to the ruling classes to have them shut out of national conversations and focus on the stories of the powerful majority over those of the minority. What would happen if the news were reshaped to focus on the populous rather than the popular? What futures could be created for the good of all? Unfortunately, with the current trend of things, we might never find out.

Ms Njahira is an international lawyer