When voters speak, politicians must listen: Lessons for Kenya in US midterm elections

Democratic US Senate candidate James Talarico celebrates after winning the Texas race during a midterm election night watch party at the Long Center for the Performing Arts in Austin, Texas, on November 3, 2026. [AFP]

There is something every politician should understand, whether in Washington or Nairobi: winning an election does not mean that voters have surrendered their right to complain, question leadership or change their minds. An election gives a politician an opportunity to serve. What happens afterwards determines whether the people will trust them with another opportunity. That is perhaps the biggest lesson Kenya can draw from the United States midterm elections. American voters have once again demonstrated that political loyalty has its limits, that popularity can be temporary and that occupying the highest office in the land does not guarantee that your political party will continue enjoying public support. For Kenya, with the 2027 General Election drawing closer, there are important lessons worth reflecting on.

The first is that the economy eventually speaks louder than politicians. A government may have an impressive communication team, organise colourful rallies and spend considerable time explaining its achievements, but ordinary people judge leadership by what happens in their pockets. Can a parent comfortably pay school fees? Can a young graduate find a job? Can a small business survive the cost of electricity, rent and taxation? Can an ordinary family afford food without constantly worrying about the next shopping trip?

These are the questions that shape political opinions, sometimes more powerfully than party manifestos. In America, the cost of living and economic anxieties featured prominently in voters' assessment of the government. Kenya is not different. A mother buying unga, a boda boda rider buying fuel, a trader paying rent or a young person looking for employment does not experience the economy through government press releases. They experience it through the money they have and what that money can buy. This is where political leadership must be honest with itself. Development statistics are important, but they mean little to a citizen who cannot see an improvement in their daily life. Governments must learn that economic performance is not simply about what they announce; it is about what people actually experience.

The second lesson is that incumbency is not a guarantee of political survival. One can occupy State House, enjoy the support of powerful political allies and command the machinery of government, but none of these things guarantees continued public approval. The American midterms showed that voters can use elections to express dissatisfaction with an administration even when the president is not personally on the ballot.

President William Ruto should take this lesson seriously. His election in 2022 was a democratic victory and a constitutional mandate to govern. However, it was not a permanent contract with the Kenyan electorate. Those who voted for him retain the right to question his decisions, disagree with his policies and reconsider their support. Equally, those who did not vote for him remain citizens whose concerns deserve attention.

There is a tendency in our politics to interpret criticism of government as hostility towards the president. This is unfortunate. A government that listens only to praise is likely to lose touch with the people it serves. Leadership is not about surrounding oneself with people who always agree. Sometimes the most useful advice comes from those who are dissatisfied. Another interesting lesson concerns political endorsements. In Kenya, we have almost turned politics into a business of endorsements, alliances and negotiated voting blocs. When a prominent politician declares support for a particular candidate, the assumption is often that an entire community will follow. But voters are not parcels of land that can be transferred from one political owner to another.

The American experience reminds us that even influential political figures cannot always deliver the votes they promise. An endorsement may attract attention, provide campaign resources and strengthen a candidate's visibility, but it cannot guarantee victory. At the end of the day, voters make their own decisions.

Kenyan politicians should therefore stop assuming that a political handshake automatically translates into votes. The people who attend political rallies, cheer their leaders and wear party colours are still entitled to make independent decisions when they enter the polling station. Political loyalty is not hereditary, and it is certainly not compulsory.

The same applies to political strongholds. For too long, Kenyan politics has operated on the assumption that certain communities belong to particular political leaders or parties. Some politicians speak about regions as though they were inherited family properties. Yet communities change, generations change and political interests change. A region that overwhelmingly supported a particular candidate in one election can make a completely different choice in the next. The young Kenyan voter, in particular, is changing the political conversation.

The Gen Z protests of 2024 should have taught our political class that young people are not necessarily waiting for established politicians to tell them what to think. They can organise themselves, question government decisions and demand accountability without necessarily seeking permission from traditional political structures.

This generation is concerned about jobs, opportunities, the cost of living, corruption, education and its place in the country's future. It wants to be heard, not merely mobilised. Political parties that approach young people only when they need campaign crowds are missing the point. Young people want to participate in shaping the decisions that affect their lives. They are not simply an audience for political speeches.

There is also a lesson for Parliament. In the American system, midterm elections provide voters with an opportunity to change the balance of power in Congress while the president remains in office. This allows the legislature to exercise its oversight responsibilities and provide a counterweight to executive authority.

Kenya has a different constitutional arrangement, but the principle is equally important. Parliament is not an extension of State House. Members of Parliament are elected to represent citizens, make laws and hold the executive accountable.

Their responsibility should not disappear simply because their political parties belong to the governing coalition. When Parliament becomes more interested in defending government than scrutinising it, citizens lose an important avenue of accountability. Asking difficult questions about public expenditure, taxation, government borrowing and public projects should not be interpreted as political rebellion. It is precisely what elected representatives are supposed to do.

However, the opposition should not celebrate public dissatisfaction as though it were an automatic endorsement of its own leadership. This is another lesson Kenya must take seriously. Being against the government is not the same as being ready to govern.

Kenyans want to know what the alternative looks like. If the opposition believes the government's economic policies are failing, what would it do differently? How would it address unemployment, public debt and the cost of living? What is its plan for healthcare, education, agriculture and the millions of young people searching for economic opportunities? It is not enough to tell Kenyans what is wrong. They also want to hear what can be done right. The opposition must offer more than political rallies, press conferences and criticism of the president. It must demonstrate that it has the ideas, leadership and organisational capacity to govern a country as complex as Kenya.

Perhaps the greatest lesson from America is that democracy should not be reduced to election day. Citizens have a responsibility that goes beyond queuing at polling stations every five years. They must question public decisions, follow how public money is spent, demand explanations from elected leaders and participate in discussions about the country's future.

Kenya does not have American-style national midterm elections, but that should not prevent us from embracing the culture of continuous accountability. A citizen should not have to wait until 2027 to ask an elected leader what happened to the promises made in 2022. As we approach 2027, the government and opposition should both pay attention to the mood of the country. The government must understand that economic hardship cannot be explained away indefinitely, while the opposition must appreciate that public anger is not a political programme. Both sides have a responsibility to take the Kenyan voter seriously.

Ultimately, the American experience offers a simple but uncomfortable reminder to those who occupy public office: voters can change their minds. They can abandon political loyalties, reject endorsements and disappoint even the most powerful political strategists.

In Kenya, we sometimes behave as though elections are battles to be won rather than opportunities to earn the confidence of citizens. Perhaps it is time to change that thinking. Political power is borrowed from the people, and those who receive it must never forget where it comes from. The ballot is not a reward for politicians. It is the people's instrument of accountability. And when the people begin to speak, the wisest politician is not the one who shouts the loudest, but the one who listens.

- Likaka is a governance and security commentator