In Kenya today, it is the politically connected who secure jobs. Meritocracy has been eroded, while nepotism is on an upward trajectory. The situation was evident in the recent Social Health Authority (SHA) appointments, where members of the Somali and Kalenjin communities reportedly secured a lion’s share of county positions because their tribesmen occupy senior positions in government.
Has Kenya become a nation that loudly sings the chorus of equity, equality, justice, and fair play, yet consistently does the very opposite? We put on a grand display and even wear the wristwatch, but seldom demonstrate discipline or punctuality.
The Cabinet Secretary for Health, Aden Duale, and President William Ruto come from the Somali and Kalenjin communities respectively. It is therefore widely perceived that the recent list of county-level hires under the SHA insurance scheme demonstrates a troubling pattern: that Kenyans who lack representation at the highest levels of leadership risk remaining trapped in the mire of unemployment, despite possessing all the requisite qualifications for the roles.
More recently, Dr Ida Odinga, widow of former Prime Minister Raila Odinga and well past the conventional retirement age, was appointed to a coveted diplomatic post as Kenya’s Permanent Representative to the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP). The appointment has inevitably stirred debate about merit, generational equity, and the signals such decisions send to a restless and watchful public.
Adding to the controversy, her youngest daughter, Winnie Odinga — herself a beneficiary of political patronage as a member of the East African Legislative Assembly (EALA) — remarked on television that young Kenyans are being denied opportunities. The contradiction has not gone unnoticed: she decried the marginalisation of youth while appearing to support her mother, now over 70, taking up a prominent international role.
To many observers, this dissonance captures a deeper national frustration. In a country weighed down by millions of qualified yet unemployed young people, Kenya is hardly short of professionals capable of serving with distinction in diplomacy and global governance, including at UNEP. If we are to restore public trust, we must resist dressing self-interest as public service, or presenting patronage as patriotism.
Why have double standards and hypocrisy become so deeply entrenched in our national politics? Even as the Kenyan President speaks of empowering the youth and expanding opportunities for them, his administration stands accused of favouring his own community in key national appointments. It is difficult to ignore the widespread perception that a significant number of the most coveted government and public corporation positions are occupied by individuals from the President’s Kalenjin community.
We have, over time, grown accustomed to opportunistic political arrangements that appear to enrich a select few families while the nation itself struggles. Kenyans must confront an uncomfortable reality: political elites often prioritise their own survival above the welfare of ordinary citizens. What is showcased on television frequently resembles carefully managed public relations, crafted by those who rise to power on the backs of a burdened majority. True leadership calls for honesty, sacrifice, and dedication to the common good — virtues that remain in short supply within Kenya’s political sphere.
Article 232(1)(c) of Kenya’s Constitution sets out clear principles for public service, including the need for ethnic and regional balance, merit, equity, and equality in appointments. Yet weak enforcement and political manoeuvring often allow leaders to favour their own support bases. The result is a system that encourages ethnic competition for political office, rather than a focus on merit, national interest and the common good.
Is it not troubling when a leader entrusted with national stewardship distributes public resources and employment opportunities along narrow communal lines, only to later issue appeals for “Umoja wa Wakenya” while seeking votes? Kenyans must remain alert and demand better.
Call it brain drain, professional migration or simple demoralization-our doctors, nurses, engineers, and other skilled professionals are leaving in search of fairer opportunities because the country has failed to value their contribution. Who will design our roads, and care for our patients if this trend persists?
Political nominations, promotions, and appointments are widely viewed as skewed in favour of the well connected. A contact at the Teachers Service Commission (TSC) confided that teaching appointment letters often end up in the hands of those linked to the ruling elite. Even military recruitments in the country are said to be less than fair, with major political figures allegedly allocated their own slots. If this continues unchecked, where will the sons and daughters of the hoi polloi find a foothold in Kenya’s job market?
During a recent stopover in Doha, I was struck by the sheer number of Kenyans working at Hamad International Airport. One cannot help but feel a mix of pride and nostalgia when meeting a compatriot abroad. They recognise you instantly and, before long, greet you warmly in Swahili -“jambo ndugu” - with an easy laugh. We are a capable and industrious people, yet we operate within a dysfunctional system that too often rewards mediocrity rather than merit.
The human cost of this dysfunction is severe. Disillusioned and deprived of prospects, countless young people are driven towards perilous alternatives. Some risking their lives in foreign conflicts, others especially young Kenyan women are enduring harsh domestic labour conditions in the Middle East. It is telling that Kenya’s Prime Cabinet Secretary, who also oversees Foreign and Diaspora Affairs, Musalia Mudavadi, has indicated plans to visit Russia to address the plight of Kenyans reportedly trapped there after being lured by promises of work, only to find themselves drawn into fighting in the war with Ukraine.
Meanwhile, enduring perceptions of nepotism across successive administrations have entrenched the belief that certain communities — presently including a notable presence from the President’s Kalenjin community — disproportionately occupy influential positions in the civil service and state corporations. This fuels the conviction that political power translates directly into communal advantage, intensifying ethnic calculations in presidential contests and undermining the foundations of national cohesion.
