Listening to the concession and acceptance speeches of both loser and winner in last week's UK general election was refreshing.

Speeches by Rishi Sunak, who until Friday was UK’s Prime Minister and Keir Starmer, incumbent Prime Minister, underscored the need for national reconciliation, owning up to mistakes and above all, the supremacy of the people.

“To the country, I must say sorry,” were Sunak’s opening words. “I have given this job my all, but you have sent a clear signal that the government of the United Kingdom must change, and yours is the only judgement that matters. I have heard your anger, your disappointment.”

Starmer acknowledged that UK citizens had voted decisively for change, for national renewal, and the return of politics to public servants.

He warned that when the gap between the sacrifices made by people and the service they receive from politicians grows big, “it leads to a weariness in the heart of the nation, a draining away of the hope, the spirit and belief in a better future.

This lack of belief could only be healed by actions, not words. We could make it start today with the simple acknowledgement that the public service is a privilege”. 

These are some of the issues our leadership ignored. They show us where Ruto and his troops missed the turn, and why they must contend with so much bitterness among Kenyans today. In sum, Kenya Kwanza has failed spectacularly.

Ongoing protests have eroded President William Ruto's power to run affairs of the state. He no longer has the support of the majority, which is necessary for him to govern.

There is a weariness and loss of hope among Kenyans, the culmination of which are sustained protests; an emphatic vote of no confidence in Ruto's leadership. If his conscience ever pricked him, then there is no justification for him to hold onto power amid chants, “Ruto must go”. Those who donated power to him demand it back. 

Governments that ascribe their legitimacy to democracy must respect the people and take their demands seriously. Ruto and his entire government no longer command as much respect and admiration as they did in the run-up to the 2022 general election.

Ruto’s modus operandi and intransigence, even as Kenyans hurt, have conspired to cost him credibility. Those who coalesce around the presidency have conveniently forgotten that public service is a privilege that can be withdrawn, that they were not elected to take turns at the public trough.

A besieged Ruto, shocked by the ferocity of the protests against him,  sought help from the army. It is not therefore farfetched to say his decision to take the army out of the barracks to engage in crowd control was a nonverbal admission that he had lost legitimacy; that he now needs the army to govern.

But while this might serve him well in the interim, it exposes him to more risks. The army is an assemblage of diverse individuals with different ideas and the propensity to take sides when faced with situations that demand a choice. Among them, no doubt, there are those opposed to the ongoing countrywide protests just like there are those who covertly support Gen Z.

Were the latter not to worry about court martials and join the protesters, what would happen? In 2011, a group of Egyptian soldiers joined protesters at Tahrir Square in Cairo. Within days, President Hosni Mubarak caved in and abdicated. 

In April 2018, a group of Armenian soldiers joined anti-government protests in the capital Yerevan. That followed days of street protests against Serzh Sarksyan, the then newly-appointed Prime Minister whom protesters did not approve of.

Downgrading our soldiers to simple tasks like crowd control despite their extensive training to defend the country is demeaning. T

hey should be taken back to the barracks. If the army must earn its keep, well, take it to bandit-hit areas where police officers have been completely outwitted by illiterate ruffians.