Why Sifuna's ODM exit could derail his 2027 ambitions

There was a time, not too long ago, when Edwin Sifuna could walk into any town in Kenya and the crowd would part like he was Moses at the Red Sea ,minus the staff, plus a microphone. He had that rare gift: the kind of national appeal that makes ordinary politicians green with envy and party bosses nervous in equal measure.

Honestly, there were moments when it felt like the man was one good rally away from being measured for State House curtains.

But politics, like a matatu on a Friday evening, waits for no one. And Sifuna, for all his charisma, seems to have missed his stage.

His real undoing wasn't ODM turning against him parties turn against people every other day in this country.

His undoing was hesitation. He neither fought hard enough to keep his grip on the party machinery, nor did he have the nerve to walk out the door on his own terms before the door was shown to him.

Contrast that with his political cousin-in-arms, Rigathi Gachagua, who read the writing on the wall early, packed his bags, and built his own house.

Sifuna, on the other hand, dithered and now the Registrar of Political Parties has made it official: he's out as ODM Secretary-General.

Whether he now runs to a higher court to contest it is, frankly, beside the point. Courts can restore titles; they cannot restore momentum.

Every month spent in legal back-and-forth is a month his supporters spend wondering whether to keep the flag flying or start folding it up.

And here's the harder truth: even if his allies are right that a new outfit is coming, timing has already eaten most of the advantage.

Gachagua built his party while the iron was hot. Sifuna is talking about building his after the iron has cooled, been rained on, and started rusting.

Launching a new party is one thing; touring all forty-seven counties to sell it before 2027 is an entirely different marathon  and one has to ask, plainly, does he have the legs and the war chest for it?

Perhaps the most worrying shift, though, isn't legal or logistical  it's geographical.

A man who once commanded a national stage has, in recent months, been spotted retreating into distinctly Bukusu political circles, trading national headlines for local funeral podiums, occasionally jostling for the microphone with the likes of Didmus Barasa. That is not a lateral move. That is a demotion dressed up as home-coming.

Kenya has enough Bungoma funeral orators; it only occasionally produces genuine national icons, and Sifuna was, for a stretch, one of them.

Still, as the old men at the village barazas like to say, it is not yet Christmas. The Kibichori Oracle  never wrong, rarely sober insists all is not lost for Sifuna.

What happens next hinges entirely on how quickly he can repackage himself: sharp, calculating, and willing to make the bold move he avoided the first time round. Kenyan politics has forgiven bigger stumbles than this one. But it rarely forgives a second hesitation.