High drama characterises typical political events in Kenya. The main characters – politicians – set the mood with their grand arrivals, reflecting their networks and net worth.

Those with well-nourished pockets and connections to power circles arrive in style, announcing their presence from the skies with choppers slicing across or gliding in with convoys of fuel-guzzling machines – engines revving, sirens blaring, tinted windows concealing faces but not influence. Their presence electrifies crowds, swelling numbers and charging the atmosphere. After all, no politician wants to address empty chairs.

From roadside stopovers and open-air markets to places of worship and even funerals, the politicking begins. More often than not, the script quickly turns toxic. What should be platforms for issue-based dialogue degenerate into slugfests of personal attacks, cheap insults, and vulgar theatrics.

Misogynistic rhetoric

Increasingly, sexist and misogynistic slurs have become normalized in the political playbook, echoed without shame. A recent example that drew widespread outrage came during a rally in Kwale, where President William Ruto’s aide, Farouk Kibet, made distasteful and sexually suggestive remarks about nominated MP Sabina Chege. The comment, which Chege appeared to laugh off, sparked concerns among gender rights defenders who saw it as an indication of deep-rooted internalized sexism.

The toxic rhetoric extends beyond gender lines. During a church event at AIPCA Gatumbi in Lari, Kiambu County, former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua tore into leaders from his own Mt Kenya region, labelling them “foolish” for blindly following the President. “How foolish are you, Members of Parliament from this region? William Ruto is laughing at you. He takes people from his community to the military, to the police, to NYS, to KRA,” Gachagua charged.

He also coined a new insult for Interior Cabinet Secretary Kithure Kindiki, calling him “mtu ya soprano” — a jibe at his voice tone meant to belittle his stature.

‘No presidential looks’

In retaliation, South Mugirango MP Silvanus Osoro mocked Gachagua, dismissing his presidential ambition by saying his looks are not presidential. “Ile side ingine nani anakaa sura ya rais, wacha maneno mingi, sura tu. Hiyo group ukipiga picha wakiwa Pamoja, angalia sura inakaa kuwa rais. Kama ni yule jamaa wa kufungia longi hapa, hawezi kuwa rais. Hana sura ya rais; hawezi simama kiti, juu ya koti yake,” Osoro said, loosely translated as: “Who looks like they can become president on the other side? Just by appearance, not words. If you take a picture of those people (opposition) when they’re together, who looks like they can become president? If it’s the other guy, he does not wear fitting clothes. He cannot become president; he cannot be viewed just by his dressing.”

Such tasteless exchanges are now entrenched in Kenyan political discourse. The 2022 presidential race was laced with similar barbs, with ODM leader Raila Odinga and then-Deputy President William Ruto trading insults, branding each other “mganga” and “mwizi”—witch doctor and thief.

Observers say this level of political indecency is not just alarming—it’s dangerous. Changamwe MP Omar Mwinyi, a seasoned Coast politician, agrees the political class must do better but insists that law enforcement agencies must step up and rein in errant leaders.

“Human beings are regulated by law. And if the agencies mandated to enforce law and decency were doing their job, we wouldn’t hear this kind of rhetoric,” said Mwinyi in an interview with People Daily. “At the end of the day, no politician has a licence to run a loose tongue. We must be responsible with our words. What we say should reflect the dignity of the office we hold. That title ‘Mheshimiwa’ must come with a sense of honour.”

Opulence arrogance

Yusuf Lule, the executive director of the Human Rights Agenda, echoed similar sentiments, calling out constitutional bodies like the National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC), the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission, the Judiciary, and the National Police Service for failing to act decisively.

“What we are witnessing is unfortunate. We are extremely appalled,” said Lule. “Gen Z raised very valid concerns during the June protests, including political opulence and arrogance. Yet these leaders continue as if nothing happened.”

He decried how politicians flaunt wealth in a country grappling with poverty—from the infamous Sh1.2 billion State House church project to convoys of luxury vehicles and helicopters. Lule criticized the NCIC for doing little beyond issuing routine complaints about underfunding.

“One wonders what their purpose is. If they can’t do the work they were created for, maybe it’s time to disband them. We’re spending taxpayer money on institutions that aren’t delivering,” he said.

Gender dimension

Lule also condemned the culture of objectifying women in politics. “We saw what Farouk Kibet said about Sabina Chege. It was crude and unacceptable. But even more worrying was her laughter—a sign of how deeply internalized the sexism is.

“We’ve seen Karen Nyamu’s controversial conduct, Edwin Sifuna body-shaming Aisha Jumwa—it’s across the board. Enough is enough.”

Lule says Kenya already has sufficient laws—from the Public Officer Ethics Act to the Constitution’s Chapter Six on Leadership and Integrity. The problem is enforcement. He called on youth, especially Gen Z and millennials, to use their creativity and tech-savviness to push back.

“Let’s use social media to expose rogue politicians. Let’s ridicule their indecent rhetoric. Let’s shame them publicly and creatively. These leaders must know they are being watched, and that we expect better,” Lule said.

“We must enforce the law. That’s the only way to stop this descent into political filth.”