Of 'uji' power, politics of sobriety and politicos too drunk with power

Former President Uhuru Kenyatta at the requiem mass for his cousin Mama Beatrice Wambui Muturi, in Nairobi, on November 11, 2026. [Collins Oduor, Standard]

When a powerful man like retired Prezzo Uhuru Kenyatta aka UK says he’s been taking uji, anything he says, as he did to a church gathering in the city early in the week is fuelled by that porridge to gain a sinister meaning. 

Unsurprisingly, when his brief remarks to a group of mourners were transmitted to Kisii, some 300 kilometres away, his successor, Prezzo Bil Ruto, said it sounded as a drunken diatribe.

It could be that intel conveyed on presidential conduits, the sort that’s insulated from eavesdropping and other leaks, bears the potency likely to dissipate if conveyed via social media and shared infinitesimally.

Not so when one uses the presidential routes where even anonymised individuals instantly gain identity. Such was the puzzle we couldn’t work out when Ali Hassan Joho, now Cabinet Secretary for Mining, when he characterised the government of Prezzo UK and then Deputy Bill Ruto as an unmitigated disaster.

“Dereva ni mlevi na manamba ni mwizi,” Joho said, implying the passengers in the vehicle named Kenya were in grave peril. If they survived a crash, they would be looted blind. I’m not sure whom Joho assigned which role but Prezzo Ruto helped clarify this conundrum this week by calling his former boss a drunkard. This was after Prezzo UK called for unity among opposition leaders to unseat his successor.

This brief summary diminishes the rich texture that characterised the moment when Prezzo UK stepped to the podium in Nairobi West to deliver his very brief remarks in characteristic wit and flair, punctuated by chuckles and gestures.

This is a paraphrase: I have been out and about, looking for kanyama, hanging out with regular folks in the village and listening to their vision of the future. In all honesty, and please bear with me for my candour, Reverend, I also look for uji in these forays.

“When I listen to those ordinary Kenyans, it appears to me that they have made up their minds. They know where they want to go. They are waiting for the opposition to pick their candidate and they will throw their lot...”

Prezzo Ruto, the self-declared brainy man, responded by overthinking. Yes, it’s true, Kenyans collectively know where they want their country to go. They have said in so many ways and to so many people, including pollsters who are paid to spin certain narratives.

So, I have no idea why this seemingly innocuous church conversation got under Prezzo Ruto’s skin. Prezzo UK looked so calm and relaxed, almost deferential. Twice he checked with the audience if he had said anything to offend them, which was greeted by a resounding affirmation to the contrary.

That was until word got out to Kisii. If I didn’t hear Prezzo Ruto is a teetotaller, I’d have said he sounded drunk. It could be that he’s drunk with power, so he’s pissed when anyone else takes shine away from him. He urged his predecessor to seek opinions from “sober” Kenyans.

I didn’t think drunks go to church, or maybe they do these days. Prezzo UK’s message to Kenyans was sobering. He said Kenyans had turned a page. They know where they want to go.

I am not sure where Prezzo Ruto expects to find a sober audience than that in church, the sort that Prezzo UK was addressing. If anything, we’re increasingly turning into a nation of drunks, as more and more youths are drawn into a vortex hopelessness, as politicians rob them blind.

In all likelihood, they will sober up by August next year, when their opinion will be expressed at the polls. Hopefully, their opinion will not require any interpretation, or misinterpretation, after tunnelling through the electoral body systems.

And we’ll get to understand whose vision, between Prezzo Ruto’s and his predecessor’s intimates the direction that Kenyans are headed in full sobriety, or in stupefying fit of drunkenness.