Kenya's premature political campaigns and their many downsides

Happy New Year! It’s nine days into 2026 and, as of today, we have 82 weeks and four days to the 2027 General Election.

During the 2025 festive season, I travelled from Nakuru through Nyeri to Meru, then from Meru to Embu and back to Nakuru through Nairobi. Along the way, I counted numerous billboards featuring unfamiliar Kenyans wishing us a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

These ‘good-hearted’ Kenyans were up to something. No ordinary citizen can pay an advertising company thousands of shillings to put up a seasonal goodwill message on a billboard. It’s a subtle strategy.

It is an unmistakable indication that 2026 is already locked in politically, and those who have not declared their interest to run for seats in 2027 are already feeling they are late for the game.

Constitutionally, the general election is scheduled for August 10, 2027, the second Tuesday of August. Traditionally, campaigns are expected to begin only after the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission gazettes nominated candidates, typically about 30–60 days before election day.

This regulation is meant to prevent the current trend of multi-year campaigning, which diverts attention from nation-building. Yet, the reality on the ground tells a different story.

In 2025, signs were already evident that campaigns had begun, and in June 2025, the High Court declared early political campaigns illegal, terming premature electioneering a violation of the constitutional principles of fair elections, equality, and national cohesion.

The court ordered the Attorney‑General to draft a new law  within 12 months to regulate campaign timelines. But even before the ink dried on that ruling, politicians were already finding creative ways to circumvent it, billboards, church donations, “development tours,” and endless rallies disguised as consultative meetings.

Why do Kenyans prefer campaigning early? The answer lies in Kenyan politics. First, politics here is deeply personalised. Candidates rely heavily on name recognition, tribal affiliation, and visibility. An early start ensures that voters associate a face with leadership long before the ballot.

Second, the competition is fierce. With 1,450 wards, 47 counties, 290 constituencies, and thousands of aspirants, the race for attention is crowded. Those who wait until the official campaign period risk being drowned out.

There is also the financial dimension. Campaigning in Kenya is expensive. Starting early allows candidates to spread costs over years, rather than compressing them into a few months. A 2022 study by the Westminster Foundation for Democracy estimated that a parliamentary candidate spends between Sh20 million and Sh35 million to run a competitive race. Governors and presidential aspirants spend far more.

The consequences of early campaigns are profound. First, early campaigns distort governance. Leaders elected in 2022 have barely settled into office, yet many are already distracted by ambitions for 2027. Development projects risk being politicised, with resources diverted to campaign optics rather than service delivery.

Second, early campaigns fuel voter fatigue. Constant politicking erodes trust in institutions and makes politics feel like a perpetual circus rather than a structured democratic process.

Third, when communities are mobilised too soon along partisan lines, cohesion suffers. That is why the High Court was right to warn that premature electioneering undermines national unity.

Finally, early campaigns lock out grassroots leaders who may have genuine ideas but lack the financial muscle to compete in a marathon campaign. That is why the upcoming law on campaigns will be crucial. If Parliament enacts clear timelines, say, limiting campaigns to 60 days before the election, it could restore sanity to the political calendar.

Until then, Kenyans should brace themselves for another long season of billboards, rallies, and subtle campaign messaging. The countdown to August 10, 2027, has already begun, on the highways, in churches, and on the airwaves.

Dr Ndonye is Dean of Kabarak University’s School of Music and Media