Mr President, you promised to be different from the 'others'

President William Ruto with is Deputy Kithure Kindiki address residents after the launch of the Sogoo-Melelo-Ololung'a Road on the second day of his tour of Narok County, May 7, 2025. [Kipsang Joseph, Standard]

President William Ruto has a question for Kenyans: "Why didn't you ever direct this kind of anger at those who came before me?" On the surface, it's a plea for fairness. But beneath it lies a startling refusal to confront reality.

The real question isn't why his predecessors didn't face the same level of outrage. It is why he, of all presidents, is facing it now. The answer is clear: Kenyans have changed. Not their memories, but their tolerance.

When William Ruto rose to power in 2022, he did so not as a continuity candidate but as a reformist. He sold hope in a bottle labelled Hustler Nation. He promised to disrupt elite impunity, democratise opportunity, and lift the millions crushed under the weight of inequality. He painted himself as the outsider, the poor chicken-seller who had clawed his way to the top and now stood ready to redeem the nation from a predatory ruling class.

It was a beautiful story. But in just over two years that story lies in ruins. And the storytellers? They're now the villains. President Ruto is not being punished for being worse than his predecessors. He is being held to account because he promised to be better. And he promised it more loudly, more persuasively, and more convincingly.

This is the central reason why current public outrage is unprecedented. Kenyans are not just angry about the high cost of living, punitive taxes, runaway corruption, and governance failures. These are symptoms. They are reacting to betrayal. A personal, intimate betrayal of trust, of hope, and of the future they believed was finally within reach.

Ruto's predecessors never ran on a platform of radical reform. Mwai Kibaki promised economic revival and gave it. Uhuru Kenyatta was a status quo candidate from the political aristocracy, and no one expected him to uproot a system he inherited and benefitted from. But Ruto came to the people as a man of the margins, only to become the ultimate insider.

That is why his fall from grace is so loud. It is not simply about what he has done, but about what he said he would do and didn't.

Secondly, Ruto's presidency has coincided with the rise of a new, fearless generation. The Gen Z movement is not a passing fad. It is a reckoning. This is the first generation that grew up with full access to information, social media, and global civic movements. They are not held back by tribal loyalties or bought off by token appointments. They have seen the inside of broken systems, and they have decided not to wait their turn.

The outrage the President is witnessing today is not just directed at him personally. It is the rage of a nation whose youth are tired of lies dressed as manifestos. And they are not afraid to call it out bluntly, publicly, and persistently. Kenyans were once polite in their disappointment. That era is gone. And if that makes the current President feel more scrutinised than his predecessors, it is because Kenyans have evolved even if the presidency has not.

Moreover, President Ruto has made things worse by dismissing criticism instead of engaging it. His administration's tone is combative, arrogant, and patronising. Instead of listening to the streets, they accuse protesters of being drug addicts and criminals. Instead of showing remorse, they mock the jobless for complaining. Instead of apologising for policy blunders, they gaslight the nation with twisted statistics and broken promises.

This too is new. Previous administrations may have been corrupt or incompetent, but they rarely denied the pain of the people with such calculated audacity. President Ruto has also overexposed himself. No president has spoken as often or as aggressively as he has. His near-daily speeches, tweets, and town hall appearances once helped him connect with the public. But now they have become the soundtrack of a broken promise. Every speech is a reminder of unfulfilled commitments. Every rally, a rebranding of disappointment. Every justification, a spark for fresh outrage.

You cannot speak to a suffering people every day and expect them not to speak back. The backlash is not disproportionate. It is the logical consequence of overpromising and underdelivering. So yes, Mr President, you are facing more criticism than your predecessors. But this is not a conspiracy. It is accountability, long delayed but now ferociously embraced. It is a generation waking up to its civic duty. It is a people who are no longer satisfied with speeches, symbolism, or struggle stories from State House. You asked why. The answer is: Because we believed you.

You looked the country in the eye and said, "I will be different." And now, we are looking back and asking: "Where is that difference?" Ask yourself why you broke your promise. And if you cannot deliver, then withdraw the speeches and let the people speak.