How do we stop evil from winning in Kenya?

 

That question sounds dramatic, but if you strip away the emotion, it is actually very practical. Evil in governance is not some supernatural force hovering over the country. It is sustained by choices, our choices. By what we tolerate, who we reward, what we ignore, and what we normalize. Systems rot when citizens disengage. And they reform when citizens grow up.

First, we must stop voting emotionally. Stop voting for murder allegations because someone calls himself a “hustler.” Stop voting for dynasties because the surname feels powerful. Stop voting for socialites, influencers, and comedians whose main qualification is viral content. Parliament is not a reality show. County assemblies are not talent competitions. We complain about poor laws, but then we send unserious people to write them. That contradiction is on us.

Leadership should not be about aura, hype, or tribal arithmetic. It should be about legislative competence, integrity, and policy literacy. Before you vote, ask: Has this person contributed meaningfully to public discourse? Do they understand budgets? Have they demonstrated courage in oversight? Or are they just good at shouting on podiums and trending on TikTok?

Secondly, civic courage must become normal. When people demonstrate for the common good, for healthcare reform, against police brutality, against corruption , show up. Not for selfies. Not for clout. But because democracy requires visible pressure. Power fears organized citizens more than angry tweets. Silence is convenient for the corrupt.

The same applies to everyday accountability. When someone stands up against reckless driving, corruption in an office, illegal dumping, or public disorder, don’t mock them with “mortuary haijajaa.” That phrase is the anthem of mediocrity. It normalizes decay. It implies that unless people are dying en masse, we should tolerate dysfunction. That mindset is how societies slide slowly into chaos while laughing.

We must also confront spiritual manipulation. Kenya is deeply religious, and faith can be beautiful. But when “prophets” exploit poor families, promising heaven while building mansions here on earth, we must call it out. Evil does not always wear a political suit; sometimes it wears a white robe and holds a microphone. Blind loyalty to charismatic figures whether political or religious  is dangerous. Questioning is not rebellion. It is maturity.

Then there is taxation. Every month, taxes leave your payslip. VAT increases. Fuel levies climb. New housing funds appear. Yet basic services struggle. Question where your tax is going. Demand transparency on procurement. Demand breakdowns of expenditure. If a leader owns vast tracts of land and dominates export markets while preaching “affordable housing” to you, ask hard questions. Why are those in power not leading by example? Why are they building private empires while selling public dreams?

Ask why our health system remains fragile. Why are we constantly fundraising for surgeries? Why do we accept that public hospitals lack equipment while billions circulate in opaque projects? Ask why education funding is inconsistent, why teachers strike, why infrastructure lags. Dysfunction in health and education keeps citizens dependent and distracted.

Look at drought. In one part of the country, children die of hunger. In another, food rots on farms because roads are impassable and distribution networks are broken. That is not fate. That is infrastructure failure. That is planning failure. That is governance failure. And governance failure persists because we normalize it.

Ask why conservation projects displace native communities while benefiting a small circle of elites. Ask why land is allocated mysteriously. Ask why priorities feel inverted flashy projects over fundamental services. Ask why, months before elections, noise increases and policy decreases. They overstimulate you with drama because attention is currency. Outrage cycles keep you reactive instead of strategic.

And perhaps most importantly, reject division. Question why you are constantly told Kamau and Otieno cannot coexist. Tribal polarization is the oldest trick in the Kenyan political playbook. Divide, inflame, distract, loot. If citizens see each other as enemies, they never unite against corruption. Unity is dangerous to corrupt systems; division is their oxygen.

We must also be careful about imported narratives. When global issues are weaponized locally to shut down legitimate concerns, interrogate that too. Being principled is not the same as being manipulated. Critical thinking must apply across the board not selectively.

But here is the uncomfortable truth: stopping evil is not only about “them.” It is also about us. Take responsibility in small things. Stop littering. Keep your space clean. Follow traffic rules. Don’t bribe to skip a queue. Don’t celebrate shortcuts. Corruption does not begin at State House. It begins at the small moment where convenience beats conscience.

If you bribe a traffic officer, you are participating in the same ecosystem you claim to hate. If you vote for tribal loyalty over competence, you are investing in dysfunction. If you excuse bad leadership because “he is our son,” you are mortgaging your children’s future.

Evil wins in Kenya when we are unserious. When we treat elections like football matches. When we reward charisma over character. When we scroll past civic responsibility. When we accept that “this is just how Kenya is.”

But evil loses when citizens mature. When they research candidates. When they demand debates about policy instead of ethnicity. When they support whistleblowers. When they show up physically, not just digitally. When they refuse to be distracted by theatrics.

Democracy is not self-executing. It is participatory. It is demanding. It requires stamina. It requires discernment. It requires adults.

If we want better leadership, we must become better citizens. If we want accountable parliamentarians, we must stop electing entertainers. If we want functioning systems, we must stop romanticizing chaos.

Evil does not win because it is powerful. It wins because it is tolerated.

And the day Kenyans collectively decide that mediocrity is no longer acceptable not in leaders, not in institutions, not in ourselves that is the day the tide begins to turn.