It’s time to end politics that thrives on fear
By Stephen Ndegwa, July 24, 2025Kenya is grappling with a deeply entrenched political culture, one that uses death, silence and unresolved tragedy not as anomalies, but as tools.
What may appear to many as isolated cases of mysterious killings, suspicious fires, unexplained road accidents, and conveniently stalled investigations are, in fact, consistent features of the country’s political playbook.
This phenomenon is not new. It has been the silent but consistent modus operandi of a political class that thrives on fear, forgetfulness and impunity.
From the post-independence assassinations of Pio Gama Pinto, Tom Mboya and J.M. Kariuki to subsequent high-profile deaths over the years, there is an undeniable pattern which is easily discernible.
Each death is followed by a flurry of public outcry, promises of investigations, and eventually, a suffocating silence.
This repetition has numbed the national conscience. The strategy is clear. When power feels threatened, it eliminates, distracts or discredits. And if the cost is a life or a dozen, so be it.
Today, this method continues – less theatrical, perhaps, but no less deliberate. In the Rift Valley, Western Kenya, the Coast, and Nairobi’s sprawling estates, tragedy strikes with suspicious regularity.
A vocal whistleblower dies in a road crash. A fire consumes a key government office just before an audit. An activist is found lifeless under murky circumstances. The scripts change, but the plot stays the same.
Even more disturbing is the growing erosion of trust in public institutions charged with protecting citizens and dispensing justice.
Kenyans no longer expect answers. Cases are announced with vigour, only to fade from headlines without resolution.
Investigations drag on, evidence disappears, and victims are buried, both literally and in the national psyche.
Families are left in limbo, while leaders issue platitudes before swiftly moving on to the next campaign or crisis.
This calculated inertia breeds fear. And fear, once embedded in the public consciousness, becomes self-sustaining.
Parents warn their children to avoid activism. Journalists self-censor. Civil servants choose silence over integrity.
Citizens begin to equate safety with obedience. This is not merely social conditioning; it is political design.
Those who dare to question power, whether in politics, media, civil society, or business, are dealt with subtly but effectively.
If not eliminated physically, they are neutralised through character assassination, bureaucratic frustration or economic sabotage.
Licences disappear. Deals fall through. Reputations are ruined with a whisper campaign. Community projects are blocked or defunded.
These are not isolated acts of coincidence; they are deliberate tools of control wielded by a class that sees dissent as betrayal.
Certainly, not all tragedies are political. But the sheer volume of unresolved cases, especially those involving individuals perceived as threats to entrenched interests, leaves little room for coincidence.
The lack of accountability, particularly in high-profile deaths, invites suspicion and reinforces a dangerous national norm that power is above scrutiny.
Sadly, these matters rarely reach Parliament with the seriousness they deserve. Independent commissions, if ever formed, are underfunded or ignored.
Public memorials are held without genuine national reflection. The political class has perfected the art of mourning without meaning.