Betrayal? Kenyans brave tough times amid piling misery

President Uhuru Kenyatta is received by former Prime Minister Raila Odinga in Siaya County for an official working tour of the region. (File, Standard)

Ten years ago, the country settled for a grand coalition government, which scored as much good as the bad for a country smarting out of near-civil war.

And now the handshake fever sweeping the country, promising a brighter tomorrow, is similarly against a background of cries in every direction – economy, institutional independence, national cohesion and political hygiene – the country has now gone full cycle.

At the clasp of a handshake, Parliament slumbered, opposition died, devolution stagnated, trade unions collapsed, economy grew shaky and political organisation turned hazy.

“Sometimes peace is more important than everything else,” says political commentator and university lecturer Herman Manyora.

Manyora says in the run-up to the handshake between the two political heavyweights, was a toxic political environment that was hurting the country’s growth prospects. But there was the price to pay.

“The cost of this peace has been the lack of competitive politics in the country. This has its own disadvantages. The biggest one is that policies can be forced down the throats of the public with little to no resistance,” he says.

In Parliament, for instance, the leader of majority is hardly distinguishable from the leader of minority, a situation that has left Kenyans clutching on the straws as united political class squeezes the last juice off them.

Outside Parliament, handshake politics appear to have tightened the noose on the other alternate voices, which had started to feel the heat under the Jubilee regime. The few voices in civil society which were holding the last ground went off.

“It started long before, in the ICC days... handshake came in for the final kill,” International Centre for Policy and Conflict boss Ndung’u Wainaina told Sunday Standard.

At his prime, Wainaina was at the centre of bubbly civil society, which was taking the bull by its horns at every turn. Together with other civil society luminaries – Maina Kiai, John Githongo, Njeri Kabeberi, Gladwell Otieno, Mwalimu Mati and Yash Ghai – they cornered government moves when it mattered.

“The shift is real... it’s been slow but real, and Kenyans are at their worst. Kibaki swallowed a large bulk of our movement, Uhuru gulped the rest and now handshake is wiping the mouth after a clean sweep,” Wainaina said while claiming he was “holding out”.

National debates

The church, led by the National Council of Churches of Kenya (NCCK), also turned its back on national debates, and fighting own survival battles. The other big voice, the Catholic church, now pales in comparison with its past.

“Our country has no opposition party or watchdog, save for the church. The NCCK for many years has been and is that church, the only hope of this nation,” Archbishop Timothy Ndambuki, NCCK chair and head of the Africa Brotherhood Church wrote in a letter earlier this week.

“When the social, economic and political turmoil bewilder this nation, the people look to the church. We cannot afford to be the ones to rake up mud on ourselves.”

Outside the NCCK, one of the biggest Seventh Day Adventist congregations in the country is also held hostage by internal wrangles that have threatened to split it. At the core of this is a property tussle and battle for ultimate control.

And as the economic situation bites and debts spiral, the trade union movement is beginning to feel the combined muscle of government might. The latest victim is the Kenya National Union of Teachers (Knut) whose boss Wilson Sossion was kicked out this week without a whiff of protest from his political party.

“The fact that one person is not making (it) doesn’t mean there is no noise,” International Relations don Prof Macharia Munene says in an inference to Raila Odinga’s absence in opposition politics.

“The reality is that people like Musalia Mudavadi are making the right noises. Moses Wetang’ula has come out too to try and claim that space so has Kalonzo Musyoka.”

Munene says it is only a matter of time before these individuals occupy the spaces that are perceived to have been created by the handshake.

“Opposition is not a person, it is a phenomenon that is still here with us,” he says.

Manyora however believes this argument is simply a weak jig by pretenders to the throne of opposition to a song that long stopped playing.

“There is no opposition. A compromise on some aspects of democracy must be reached,” he says.

For civil society though, a string of peculiarity has held them back somewhat. A government sanctioned crackdown in the run-up to the 2017 presidential election may have had a debilitating effect on them.