DIASPORA TIME EDITORIAL DESK.

Our King has broken his crown again and fled the storm he started.” “When a single post can shake the palace, know that the throne was built on lies and the ruler reigns on borrowed courage.”

President William Ruto’s recent declaration that the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM) “will either form the next government or be part of it” is one of the clearest signs yet that his United Democratic Alliance (UDA) is losing grip on both political confidence and national trust. Coming barely three years after UDA triumphantly entered office promising to end “dynasty politics,” this sudden flirtation with the very party UDA campaigned against exposes Ruto’s desperation, political inconsistency, and erosion of credibility.

When a sitting president begins publicly praising the opposition as a potential partner in governance, it is not magnanimity; it is panic disguised as statesmanship. Ruto’s UDA stormed into power on the promise of empowering the common hustler and dismantling the so-called “handshake cartels.” Yet today, the same man who mocked the handshake between Raila Odinga and Uhuru Kenyatta has initiated his own handshake, this time draped in the language of reconciliation and unity. The irony is breathtaking, and the political motive is unmistakable: survival.

Ruto’s statement that ODM might form the next government is not an act of inclusivity but a confession of weakness. It signals that the president no longer trusts his own political machinery to deliver victory in 2027. The UDA, once hailed as a revolutionary movement of the hustlers, has become a house divided, its members frustrated by unfulfilled promises, unending scandals, and a growing sense that State House has turned into a stage for opportunistic theatrics rather than national transformation. Instead of rebuilding his party from within, Ruto appears to be outsourcing political legitimacy to ODM, a party that itself failed to capture power in 2022.

This new alliance talk also carries deeper implications for Kenya’s democracy. The essence of a healthy democracy lies in competition between the government and the opposition. When the ruling party begins courting the main opposition with promises of shared power, accountability collapses. ODM’s potential absorption into Ruto’s orbit could mean that the government will face little resistance, leaving ordinary citizens without a genuine voice of dissent. In effect, Kenya risks returning to a one-party mindset dressed in the robes of coalition politics.

It is no coincidence that Ruto made his statement during the funeral of the late Raila Odinga. In moments of grief, the president sought political capital, turning a national farewell into a campaign platform. His promise to “support and respect ODM” at a time when the country should have been reflecting on Raila’s democratic legacy reeks of opportunism. A leader confident in his party’s strength does not need to elevate a rival party to reassure himself of victory. Instead, Ruto’s tone suggested anxiety, a nervous acknowledgment that the hustler movement is losing traction, that public frustration is rising, and that his administration’s credibility is sinking.

The alliance narrative is also a betrayal of those who believed in Ruto’s “bottom-up” gospel. For millions of struggling Kenyans who voted for him, this was supposed to be a government of economic liberation, not a political marketplace. By seeking refuge in ODM’s popularity, Ruto has revealed that the bottom-up slogan was merely a stepping stone, a means to power, not a philosophy of governance. His words now expose the hollowness of that promise: when faced with dwindling public support, the hustler-in-chief runs back to the same establishment he vowed to dismantle.

Politically, the move could backfire. ODM supporters are unlikely to forget the years of insults, persecution, and betrayal their leader endured under Ruto’s administration. At the same time, UDA loyalists, especially those who sacrificed everything to fight ODM, will feel abandoned. The president has managed to alienate both his allies and his critics. What he sees as a grand coalition for 2027 could easily degenerate into a grand confusion of clashing interests and disillusioned followers.

Moreover, the idea that ODM could “form or be part of the next government” without an election reflects a dangerous mindset, one that views power not as a public trust but as a private bargain. Kenya’s democracy has suffered enough from elite pacts that exclude citizens from decision-making. The last thing the nation needs is another alliance stitched in boardrooms and funerals, designed not to govern better but to prolong the political life of a failing regime.

President Ruto’s political overtures are not the mark of a visionary leader seeking unity, but of a desperate politician terrified of isolation. He is watching his UDA ship sink under the weight of broken promises, economic distress, and youthful discontent. His solution, tragically, is not to fix the ship but to invite his former rivals aboard, as though their presence alone will keep it afloat. It is an illusion of strength that conceals deep internal decay.

If Ruto truly believes in democracy, he must rebuild trust within his own party, respect the opposition’s role, and deliver the reforms he promised. Kenya does not need another handshake; it needs leadership. And leadership is not found in political marriages of convenience, but in the courage to face one’s failures and correct them. Until Ruto learns this, his legacy will remain what it is fast becoming, a portrait of desperation painted against the crumbling walls of his own unfulfilled revolution.

Disclaimer: This report reflects an analytical critique of Kenya’s evolving political landscape and the implications of President Ruto’s recent statements. It does not endorse or oppose any political party but seeks to uphold the principles of transparency, accountability, and democratic integrity in governance.