Should Kenya rethink winner-takes all system?
Opinion
By
Wanja Maina
| May 24, 2026
Kenya’s 2027 General Election is already shaping up to be another high-stakes political contest. The incumbent is widely expected to defend the presidency, while the opposition faces a familiar but difficult challenge: agreeing on a single presidential flagbearer.
That process is not merely internal party politics. It is a structural test of Kenya’s democracy. In a system where the presidency remains the ultimate prize, choosing a flagbearer is effectively choosing who controls executive power, state appointments, and national direction.
Kenya’s political system turns every presidential election into a high-stakes contest for near-total executive power.
This is not a new phenomenon. From the early years of multiparty politics to the 2010 Constitution and beyond, Kenya has consistently grappled with the challenge of concentrating too much political power in one electoral outcome. High-stakes presidential competition has been a recurring feature of the country’s democratic journey.
Under the Constitution, the President is both head of state and head of government, with significant influence over appointments and policy direction.
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The 2010 Constitution deliberately retained a strong presidential system to ensure stability after years of political instability. The fear was that a parliamentary system could produce weak coalitions and governance paralysis in a divided society.
But this design has had consequences. The presidency is the centre of political power. Winning it is a full transfer of executive authority. That is why opposition politics becomes intensely focused on the flagbearer. Being chosen is not symbolic. It is the only realistic path to power. Losing often means political marginalisation.
The core challenge is not elections themselves, but that in Kenya, elections determine near total control of the executive state.
This debate goes beyond politicians. It affects ordinary Kenyans in jobs, development priorities, public appointments, economic confidence, and national unity. When power is concentrated in one office, governance begins to mirror electoral competition.
Presidential elections do not just change leaders; they reshape access to state influence for entire regions and blocs. This is why elections often feel existential rather than routine democratic exercises.
This winner-takes-all logic was visible in the 2022 presidential election. President William Ruto won with 7,176,141 votes, or 50.49 percent, while Raila Odinga secured 6,942,930 votes, or 48.85 percent. The margin was narrow, almost a national split down the middle. Yet the outcome produced a complete transfer of executive power.
This raises a deeper question. How should a democracy interpret a result where nearly half the electorate supports the runner-up? While the Constitution defines a winner and a loser, politically, the reality is more complex. Such close elections reveal a deeply divided electorate.
A narrowly defeated candidate still represents a very large share of citizens, yet is entirely excluded from executive authority once the results are declared. This is not about legitimacy. It is about whether presidential systems fully reflect political realities in closely divided societies.
This tension is not new. The 2017 presidential election nullification by the Supreme Court of Kenya was a defining moment. The Court annulled the election due to irregularities in the conduct of the vote.
Parliamentary and gubernatorial elections were not affected. This reflected the unique constitutional weight of the presidency, which carries a higher threshold of legitimacy.
Every presidential election under the 2010 Constitution has been challenged in court, including the annulled 2017 election. This shows how contested the presidency has become.
Kenya’s political history reinforces this reality. The 2007 to 2008 post-election violence remains a reminder of how electoral disputes escalate when political power is seen as total and exclusive.
More recent elections have shown recurring coalition instability, ethnic mobilisation, and disputes over legitimacy. At the centre is one issue: too much political destiny is concentrated in one office.
The Building Bridges Initiative attempted to respond to this. It proposed introducing elements of a parliamentary system into the presidential structure.
These included a Prime Minister drawn from Parliament, two Deputy Prime Ministers, Cabinet ministers partly selected from Parliament, a formal Leader of the Official Opposition, and broader executive inclusion through coalition governance.
The aim was to reduce winner-takes-all politics by spreading executive authority more broadly.
However, the initiative was declared unconstitutional on procedural grounds. Legally, this preserved the constitutional order. Politically, it slowed momentum on a national conversation about inclusion and reform.
While the courts may have been correct in their procedural approach, the country lost an opportunity to reflect more deeply on political inclusion and executive concentration.
This is not an argument that Kenya’s presidential system has failed. It is an argument that its design may be producing unintended political pressure that deserves reflection.
In parliamentary systems, such as those in Germany and the United Kingdom, losing an election does not necessarily mean exclusion from governance. Executive power is shared through coalition governments.
Political competition remains, but it does not result in total exclusion. These systems are not perfect. Italy shows how coalition politics can be unstable. But the structural difference is clear. Parliamentary systems diffuse power, while presidential systems concentrate it.
Critics of parliamentary systems rightly argue that they can weaken accountability and produce fragile coalitions. Kenya’s 2010 Constitution strengthened presidential authority to avoid instability after years of executive dominance. That concern remains valid.
As 2027 approaches, the risk is not only another competitive election but another cycle where political stakes are so high that they strain national cohesion. Kenya may not need to abandon the presidential system.
But it may need to rethink it. Strengthening opposition roles, encouraging coalition governance, and exploring hybrid reforms could reduce the concentration of power.
Ultimately, the question is not only who wins in 2027. It is whether Kenya can sustain a democracy where losing an election does not feel like losing access to national power entirely. That is a debate the country can no longer postpone.