Who controls Kenya's digital public square today?

Recently, a friend who works for an opposition presidential candidate told me about a troubling pattern on a social media platform. Their campaign videos were repeatedly flagged for alleged community-guideline violations, while live broadcasts were sometimes terminated without warning.

She suspected the platform was limiting some candidates’ visibility while allowing others greater reach. “Look at Brazil and you will see a pattern,” she told me. I looked. The Brazilian experience raises questions Kenya cannot ignore as we approach 2027 polls. Political competition is no longer shaped only by access to state resources, traditional media or campaign financing. It is increasingly influenced by privately owned platforms that determine what citizens see and whose messages reach them.

During Brazil’s 2026 presidential runoff, allegations emerged that Meta, which owns Facebook, Instagram and WhatsApp, had restricted content associated with President Luiz Inácio Lula while giving greater visibility to his challenger, Flávio Bolsonaro. Lula’s campaign complained of reduced reach and restrictions on boosting posts.

Reports by Folha de S Paulo, based on internal company messages, indicated that Lula’s campaign had been unable to boost certain Instagram posts for almost 24 hours. Meta denied favouritism and attributed the incidents to technical failures.

Digital rights organisation CTRL+Z documented more than 1,100 reports of restrictions affecting political content, including reduced reach, account suspensions and limits on commenting and sharing. It called for transparent moderation criteria, human review and timely responses to complaints. Its warning was pointed: Meta could not become the invisible judge of Brazil’s electoral debate.

Brazil’s electoral court ordered Meta to ensure equal treatment of candidates and avoid restrictions that could create an electoral imbalance. The intervention did not establish that Meta had deliberately manipulated the election. That distinction matters. A technical failure is not proof of political interference. But describing a failure as technical should not end questions about accountability. A campaign that loses access to its audience during a critical period cannot recover that opportunity simply because a company later apologises.

Brazil is not alone. In Germany, the Federal Constitutional Court ordered Facebook in 2019 to temporarily restore a political party’s page after it was blocked ahead of European Parliament elections. The court recognised that exclusion from a widely used platform could affect a party’s ability to communicate with voters.

Romania offers another warning. In December 2024, its Constitutional Court annulled the presidential electoral process following concerns about coordinated online manipulation, including the use of TikTok to amplify a candidate’s campaign. The European Commission later opened proceedings to investigate TikTok’s handling of election-related risks.

Kenya has its own experience. Research by the Mozilla Foundation found that Facebook and Instagram carried political advertisements that breached election-related rules during the 2022 polls. It identified 52 advertisements that violated election silence requirements or platform advertising policies, raising concerns about how consistently platforms enforce their own rules.

Social media has become central to political mobilisation, public debate, civic education and access to information. For candidates unable to dominate traditional media, it offers a route to voters. Yet the companies that operate these platforms exercise considerable control over political visibility. They decide what is removed, which accounts are restricted, which advertisements are approved and how algorithms recommend information. A candidate may retain the formal right to speak, but that does not guarantee an audience.

Kenya must ask difficult questions. What happens when a candidate’s live broadcast is terminated during a major political event? Who investigates repeated restrictions on campaign content?

Can political parties obtain timely human review of automated decisions? Can the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission access the information it needs to investigate complaints about digital campaigning?

We need transparent political advertising rules, disclosure of who pays for campaign content, independent scrutiny of platform moderation and accessible channels to appeal restrictions. The IEBC, Communications Authority and Office of the Data Protection Commissioner should consider how their respective mandates can help protect electoral integrity online.

This is not an argument against content moderation. Platforms must address hate speech, incitement, fraud and disinformation. But governments must not use regulation to silence criticism or interfere with legitimate political expression. Rules must be applied consistently, with transparent procedures and meaningful avenues of appeal.

Democracy must be protected from abuses of public power, but also from unchecked private power. Digital platforms are commercial enterprises, yet their decisions can affect political participation, access to information and the conditions in which citizens make electoral choices.

My acquaintance may or may not be right about the campaign’s experience. Her allegations require evidence, not automatic acceptance or dismissal. But the questions she raised deserve attention.

Kenya should not wait for its own Brazil moment before confronting the power of digital gatekeepers. As we approach 2027, the integrity of our elections will depend not only on fair polling stations, but also on open digital spaces where political opinions can be formed, challenged and shared.