The problem with our politics as we edge towards an election is not that wrangles tearing through political formations threaten our fledgling democracy. Nor is it that unseen forces are pouring resources into destabilising consequential parties. No. The real problem is why these wrangles unfold so publicly — the attempt by a few individuals to manage politics for narrow self-interest.
We have seen such machinations before. In Ford Kenya. In Jubilee immediately this regime ascended to power. And now in ODM, where the disorganised chaos is unprecedented.
The noise around attempts to implode ODM and finish it completely is loud because ODM has been the most consequential political party in Kenya for the last 20 years. For two decades, it has represented the aspirations of millions across villages, towns and diverse communities. Those who have voted for Baba and ODM have done so with conviction — and they are in their millions. Interestingly, even those who consistently voted against ODM often did so knowing that ODM would remain to hold the government accountable.
What many Kenyans may not have fully discerned is that this was never just about ODM as an institution. It was about Baba.
Baba possessed legitimate national political capital, built on a long tradition of fighting for and advancing the interests of ordinary citizens. He earned a legendary status as the pulse and voice of the people. His authority — in managing ODM and the coalitions he held together after successive electoral losses — was galvanising. It should not be forgotten that there were serious internal issues within ODM, CORD and NASA. Yet he held CORD together after the 2013 loss and even expanded it into NASA in 2017.
What ODM has lost is not merely organisational cohesion. It has lost an authoritative political voice — legitimacy drawn from history, struggle and connection to the common mwananchi.
Today, ODM lacks that singular figure who listens to dissenting views and then makes decisive decisions that the rank and file follow with fidelity. That is the core problem.
It is not that Dr Oburu Oginga is flip-flopping. Nor that factions are flirting with UDA or Azimio. Most of those individuals lack the gravitas to move even a quarter of ODM in any direction. The wing leaning towards the broad-based “Tutam” approach has little political history beyond riding on Baba’s coattails. They have identified President William Ruto as their survival mechanism and will cling to him at all costs.
Beyond loud declarations and simplistic sycophancy, many have amassed influence without building legitimacy. That is why there is panic — meetings, press conferences and declarations that move nothing.
On the other hand, those opposing the Tutam direction appear to be attempting a revival of the mid-1990s firebrand politics that once defined Raila Odinga. But they look uncertain. When you are expelled from a party and believe you have gravitas, you seize the moment. Courtroom battles do not build political capital. Clinging on after a political boot drains momentum.
At least with the Tutam-leaning group, we know what that trajectory looks like. With young leaders surrounding Dr Oginga, one might expect authority to be stamped firmly and a coherent pathway charted. Yet, apart from a few — like Oketch Salah, who seems willing to take a radical organisational direction despite occasional missteps — most appear content with rhetoric rather than structure.
If they are not careful, they risk reducing ODM to a hollow shell that arrives at the negotiating table with UDA too weakened to bargain meaningfully.
It is telling that barely months after Baba’s passing — a man who spent nearly 40 years building ODM — not even an iota of his gravitas is visible among those claiming to defend its spirit.
If ODM fractures, the immediate advantage goes to President William Ruto. The challenge for him, however, would be consolidating the fragmented ODM vote. That fragmentation could complicate his “Tutam” calculus and make the 50-plus-one threshold more tenuous than it appears.
The so-called new-age firebrands — Edwin Sifuna, Anthony Kibagendi, Caleb Amisi, Babu Owino, Ndindi Nyoro, Gathoni wa Muchomba, Oketch Salah and the articulate Njeri Maina — must look beyond 2027. They must coalesce around a generational agenda.
2027 may well favour President Ruto. But what this emerging cohort must do is redefine the political narrative now and speak with one voice as a generational force. Not merely as rebels within parties, but as architects of a post-legacy transition.
The 1990s young turks — James Orengo, Paul Muite, Raila Odinga, Kiraitu Murungi, Gitobu Imanyara, Gibson Kamau Kuria, Wanyiri Kihoro — once seemed poised to reshape Kenya. Yet after 1992 and the death of Jaramogi, many retreated into ethnic cocoons. Those who resisted faded into political obscurity. The result was a leadership transition from Moi to figures aligned with the very system they once opposed.
History could repeat itself.
If today’s millennial cohort does not organise strategically, 2027 may pass. And 2032 could slip away too — possibly to yet another legacy politician well into their seventies.
The time to build a serious movement is now. Whether to support a transitional one-term candidate ahead of a 2032 generational shift, or to build a party capable of forcing a run-off and negotiating transition terms — that requires high-stakes political planning.
It must be anchored in two realities: what must change now, and how the transition will be completed later.
The political mess we confront today was created — and continues to be sustained — by legacy politicians. If Kenya is to move forward, they must help clean it up as they exit the stage.
