By Professor Peter Ndiang’ui, Fort Myers, Florida USA

Calling the recent by-elections “rigged” by President William Ruto and his lieutenants is like observing that water is wet. Indeed, President Ruto, Deputy President Kindiki, and UDA operatives shamelessly unleashed obscene amounts of money, weaponized state institutions, and manipulated the electoral landscape with clinical precision. Yet beneath this predictable machinery lies a more unsettling truth: the biggest loser in these contests may ultimately be William Ruto himself. The court petitions now underway will likely expose the corrupt electoral architecture his team worked tirelessly to conceal. Perhaps it is better that this exposure comes now rather than in 2027. Blessings often arrive disguised. But even that is not the story that matters most.

What these by-elections delivered—loudly, violently, and unmistakably—was a devastating indictment of Kenya’s opposition. These were not ordinary electoral setbacks; they were a public unmasking, a brutal revelation of weaknesses that are chronic, predictable, and entirely self-inflicted. The opposition entered these races with weak candidates, fractured leadership, incoherent messaging, and no viable strategic plan. The results were not simply foreseeable—they were guaranteed. With the level of public resentment toward Ruto’s government, these were elections the opposition should have won decisively from Mbeere North to Malava. Instead, the by-elections exposed a painful internal truth: the opposition is not ready.

The rot begins at the foundation: candidate selection, the opposition’s most enduring and destructive vulnerability. Elections are won by credible, compelling leaders—not by party colors, nostalgic emotions, or recycled slogans. Yet the opposition continues to field candidates who cannot survive even modest scrutiny. In Western Kenya, voters leaned toward the opposition not out of conviction or inspiration, but out of anti-government sentiment. That is not strategy; it is political negligence of the highest order. A movement that enters a contest with compromised candidates starts defeated and ends humiliated.

Meanwhile, William Ruto — ever the consummate manipulator — approaches politics with cold, methodical, almost militaristic precision. His political maneuvers are calculated, deliberate, and consistently several steps ahead. The opposition behaves as if encountering him for the very first time. Nothing illustrates this more clearly than Mbeere North, where Ruto’s team, led by Moses Kuria, strategically deployed Duncan Mbui, a former opposition aspirant, for one purpose only: to fracture the opposition vote. It was a simple, predictable, textbook manipulation — yet the opposition walked straight into the trap: blindly, clumsily, disastrously.

This is not an isolated blunder. It reflects a profound strategic vacuum. The opposition appeared to have no war room, no intelligence network, no rapid-response messaging, no capacity to detect or disrupt electoral interference in real time. While Machiavellian Ruto is playing chess, the opposition is still playing marbles. Unless this dynamic changes urgently, the 2027 election may as well be conceded today. Ruto knows this. In his braggadocio and public boasts, he is already talking about ruling Kenya for twenty years — revealing what Kenyans already understand: he has never respected the Constitution and never will. His instincts are authoritarian to the core.

If the opposition hopes to mount a credible challenge against such a regime, it must ground its politics in substance, not theatrics. Slogans such as “Ruto Must Go,” “Wantam,” or derisive nicknames like “Githinji” may energize social media, but they do not win elections. Kenyans are battered — economically, emotionally, and institutionally — and they are searching not for rhetoric, but for solutions. Parents are drowning in school fees. Workers are crushed by punitive taxes and mandatory deductions with no visible return. Healthcare is collapsing under corruption and mismanagement. The economy is suffocating.

Even in the diaspora, the burden is overwhelming. My colleagues in the Nyeri Diaspora Advisory Council and I collectively shoulder responsibility for over one million shillings in school fees for needy children in January 2026 alone. The strain grows daily. The opposition must therefore provide concrete, evidence-based solutions: accessible education, affordable healthcare, a fair tax system, and a credible roadmap for dismantling the corruption that has crippled Kenya for generations.

The tragic irony is that Ruto has no substantive response to any of these crises. His pronouncements are a blend of empty bravado, habitual falsehoods, and promises that evaporate immediately after being made. The opposition must therefore abandon hollow sloganeering and offer real, actionable alternatives — because that is what Kenyans are desperately seeking.

Yet even as these national crises worsen, the opposition remains immobilized by internal disarray. At present, it is not a movement. It is a scattered constellation of personal empires, each pulling in its own direction. Kenyans do not know who speaks for the movement, how decisions are made, or how the 2027 presidential flag bearer will be chosen. There was no coordinated procedure to announce polling-station results. This confusion is a gift to the regime. A divided opposition cannot defeat an incumbent who commands vast sums of money and controls every state mechanism, including the IEBC.

The crisis extends to representation. Many individuals — including those in the diaspora — who claim to speak for the opposition are opportunists, pretenders, and political impostors. One colleague captured it succinctly: many are “self-serving thieving jokers.” A national rescue movement cannot entrust its public voice to individuals who lack competence, credibility, or integrity. The opposition must conduct a merciless audit of its representatives and purge those who undermine the cause.

All of this must be understood within a sobering reality: William Ruto will not relinquish power voluntarily — and certainly not through a fair electoral process. For him, defeat is existential; the specter of the ICC still shadows him. He will deploy every instrument of the state — security agencies, intelligence networks, illicit money, propaganda machinery, manufactured spoiler candidates, intimidation tactics, and institutional capture — to retain power. This is not a routine political contest. It is a struggle for the survival of Kenya’s democracy.

Opposition leaders know this. They must regroup, rethink, and restructure.

These by-elections were not minor political stumbles. They were a final warning — an unmistakable signal that time is running out. Unless the opposition embraces disciplined candidate selection, builds strategic capacity, articulates credible policy alternatives, develops mechanisms to counter rigging strategies, unites its leadership, and restores moral authority, then Ruto will coast into 2027 unchallenged — while Kenya sinks deeper into economic ruin, institutional decay, and political suffocation. That would be a national disgrace of historic proportions.

Over to you — Rigathi Gachagua, Kalonzo Musyoka, Martha Karua, Fred Matiang’i, and every other opposition leader. It is time to declare that enough is enough. The era of excuses is over. The era of strategy, unity, and seriousness must begin now. Kenyans are looking to you. They deserve answers — from you.

Disclaimer: This commentary is based on the author’s independent political analysis and protected opinion. All claims are made in good faith and rely on publicly accessible facts and observations. The publishing platform shall not be held responsible for the accuracy or consequences of the views expressed herein.