“The weaponization of development in Kenya is not only unpresidential but deeply dangerous, as it reduces governance to a crude patronage system in which essential public services, roads, hospitals, and schools are no longer rights guaranteed to all citizens, but rewards selectively handed out to loyalists, turning national resources into instruments of political coercion and exclusion.“

If governance were a theatrical performance, Kenya today would be a disorganized circus, a tragicomedy where clowns have forgotten their lines and the ringmaster keeps changing the cast mid-show. President William Ruto’s administration has become synonymous with confusion, selective development, political bribery, and a complete lack of coherence. Every week, there’s a new appointment, a reshuffle, a dismissive press release, yet nothing seems to work for the common mwananchi.

What began as a hopeful presidency, promising a “bottom-up economic transformation,” has now dissolved into chaos and contradiction. Cabinet Secretaries don’t last long enough to implement policies. Principal Secretaries are often fired or reshuffled before they have a chance to implement the policies they were tasked with fully. It is government by musical chairs; ministers hop from department to department as if they are interns sampling various areas.

The most glaring sign of the dysfunction is the erratic reshuffling of Ruto’s Cabinet. While reshuffles are not uncommon in governance, Ruto’s shuffles have been alarmingly frequent and suspiciously political. Instead of reflecting national priorities, they seem crafted to reward loyalty, silence critics, and consolidate power. If your senator or MP sings praises to the President and throws political jabs at their rivals, your region is more likely to receive road, hospital, or bursary allocations. If your MP is perceived as rebellious, even flood victims in your area might be ignored in the budget.

This weaponization of development is unpresidential. It reduces governance to a patronage system where basic services become tools for political coercion. It is a scandal that in 2025, counties in Kenya must beg for infrastructure while their residents pay the same taxes as those in “loyal” counties. Equity and fairness, the foundation of any meaningful democracy, have been replaced with favoritism.

What is even more dangerous is the normalization of bribery. Ruto’s administration seems to run on brown envelopes and breakfast bribes. Groups are regularly invited to the State House and mysteriously walk away with KSh 10,000 tokens. These aren’t development meetings; they are hush-money ceremonies, cleverly disguised as “consultations.” Recently, residents from Kiambu, after meeting the President, confirmed they were each handed money and instructed to support plans to subdivide their county. This is not leadership; this is transactional populism.

How can the government claim to fight corruption while lubricating its own machinery with bribes? Where is the moral authority to charge small traders with economic crimes when the biggest economic crime is happening at the very heart of power?

The average Kenyan sees through this charade. They know that nothing meaningful is being built unless their representative has pledged unquestioning loyalty to the UDA government. They know that merit has no place in state appointments; only sycophancy does. They are aware that while Kenya burns under the weight of unemployment, high food prices, and insecurity, the President is more focused on appeasing his inner circle and punishing dissenters.

Furthermore, the lack of a coherent policy direction is appalling. Education reforms are announced and reversed in the same week. Health policies are often launched with pomp and then marred by scandals, such as the Social Health Authority heist. Foreign trips by the President multiply, but local roads remain impassable. The cost of living continues to spiral while the President’s social media team floods timelines with pictures of handshakes and ribbon-cutting.

This circus has made Kenya the laughing stock of the region. Investors are nervous, civil servants are demoralized, and even international partners are cautious. A nation cannot function when the Cabinet resembles a game of musical chairs, and public policy is crafted in reaction to Twitter hashtags and political tempers.

The Kenyan people deserve more. They deserve a government of planners, not gamblers; of visionaries, not sycophants. We must ask: where is the blueprint? Where is the 5-year economic masterplan? What are the performance benchmarks? Who audits the State House budgets? When will the government stop using poverty as a campaign tool?

In a functioning democracy, government reshuffles are tools to improve performance. In Kenya, reshuffles are used as a tool to blind the public and reward political theater. The people must reject this circus. It is time to demand accountability, fairness, and policies that go beyond loyalty tests. The confusion must cease, the culture of bribery dismantled, and governance restored to the people, not to political performers stumbling through scripts they never mastered.

Disclaimer: This opinion piece reflects the author’s personal views and does not represent the official position of any institution.
© Arch. Dr. D.K. Gitau | The Diaspora Times