By Nixon Olouch
As Kenyans brace themselves for yet another election cycle, the political arena is welcoming a new-born political vehicle – Rigathi Gachagua’s Democracy for the Citizens Party (DCP). Quite a mouthful if you ask me! Without mincing words, this is merely the latest iteration of a tired and cynical script that has played out for decades.
The DCP, like countless parties before it, is a vacuous vessel designed to launder the ambitions of disgruntled elites while offering nothing but reheated rhetoric, theatrical mudslinging and the same stale cast of opportunists. As they say in Kiswahili, “nyani ni wale wale, mstitu ndio tofauti” (same monkeys, different forest). For a nation weary of political pantomimes, Gachagua’s project is a rerun of a bad sitcom. Rigathi Gachagua, ousted DP and perennial controversy magnet, is hardly the messiah Kenyans deserve. His political career is a masterclass in survivalism, marked by inflammatory rhetoric.
His promise to “champion the cause for the common mwananchi” rings hollow when his own history suggests a closer kinship with boardroom dealmakers than market traders. If the DCP’s slogan “Skiza Wakenya” (or is it “Kazi na Haki?”) feels familiar, it’s because Kenyans have heard similar mantras many times before. What truly damns the DCP is its line-up of who’s who of Kenya’s political re-treads. Kalonzo Musyoka, the eternal also-ran, has joined the fray.
His career is a study in indecision. In the last fifteen years, Kalonzo has backed every faction, betrayed every alliance, and still believes Kenyans will buy his latest incarnation as a “change agent.” His presence in the DCP is more of a cry for attention. Then there’s Martha Karua, once a respected and fiery advocate for justice but now reduced to sharing podiums with figures she once condemned.
Justin Muturi, a lukewarm former National Assembly Speaker, completes a trifecta of tedium Kenyans should be spared at this point in history. Add to this mix Eugene Wamalwa, the political equivalent of a participation trophy, and Mithika Linturi, whose “fertilizer manifesto” remains a national punchline, and the DCP begins to resemble a retirement home for failed ambitions.
Richard Onyonka, Fred Matiang’i, and Mukhisa Kituyi round out the roster, each carrying baggage heavier than the last. Together, they form a coalition of the willing-to-say-anything, united only by their shared irrelevance. Bring in ole Lenku, Victor Munyaka and Cleophas Malala and the circus is complete.
Kenya’s political landscape is littered with the carcasses of parties DCP is joining. Remember PNU, Narc, TNA and so on? These were less of movements and more of momentary conveniences, forged to serve individual egos. The DCP is cut from the same cloth. It is propped on political dregs that look and smell the same as what Kenyans have experienced in the past.
Beyond Gachagua, Kenya’s broader opposition is a gallery of has-beens and never-weres, all united only by their disdain for the current administration. Kalonzo’s perpetual victimhood, Karua’s fading credibility and Matiang’i’s sudden reinvention as a “progressive” after years of wielding state machinery like a cudgel is a sham. These are opportunists, swapping principles for proximity to power. Mukhisa Kituyi’s return from international obscurity to join the DCP is particularly galling.
Meanwhile, Fred Matiang’i, the architect of the infamous midnight raids, wants us to forget his role in a regime accused of authoritarian excesses. No! The tragedy here is not DCP’s launch but the fact that Kenyans are expected to take it seriously. The DCP, like its predecessors, is a distraction that seeks to reduce politics to a game of musical chairs.
Kenyans must demand a clear break from this diabolical cycle. We should demand platforms that portend change, not recycling of the same old personalities! The DCP is a relic of a broken system and one that views politics as a career, not a calling. It offers no new ideas, only old faces in new hats. DCP, to call it by name, is a mirage and indeed a flicker of false hope in a desert of disillusionment. Kenyans have seen this show before, and it always ends the same way with a heap of broken promises.
The time has come to filter out the noise, to reject a recycled cast and its uninspiring scripts. Until we demand accountability over antics and substance over slogans, Kenya’s political theatre will remain a tragic comedy.
Olouch is a Nairobi-based political economy scholar.
