From Saba Saba to Nane Nane protests, Gen-Z are plotting a 'termite coup'

I was quite taken by the syncopated dancers who streamed into Nairobi’s Central Business District yesterday afternoon, I momentarily thought they were heading to the State House to entertain the newly-minted ministers.

Then I remembered that the State House has been off-limits in recent weeks, and one needed a special invite to venture there. In any case, these were no ordinary singers and dancers; they were hordes of men who belong to an entity called Mungiki, which means multitude, a quasi-religious outfit that was outlawed eons ago.

I have no idea what Mungiki could be doing in government, but it could be that “broad-based” government means exactly that. In any case, the line between what is lawful or lawless in this country can get blurry, as we saw weeks ago when boda boda operators were allowed into CBD to deliver placards supporting Prezzo Bill Ruto, while those agitating for his removal were kept at bay by bayonets and batons.

Yesterday, it was a pink splash of pressured water that was used to disperse the Mungiki adherents from the city, once their job was done. This was a downgrade as police had used live ammunition to disperse protestors. But the fact that the Mungiki had been allowed in the city in the first place was surprising, as police descended afterwards, clearing anyone and everyone out of the streets.

Consequently, Nairobi was a ghost town most of the morning, save for the hordes of policemen and women on patrol, a visual that evoked a different kind of triumph for the youthful protesters.

It seems like such a long time since the first peaceful protest were reported in late June, when thousands poured into the streets to protest the now-discarded Finance Bill 2024. The return of armed militias like Mungiki in a pro-government demo, or the heavy security barricades, have served to smash long-held mirage of Kenya as a bastion of regional stability.

And it seems such a long time since the US designated Kenya a vital regional security ally, complete with a banquet in honour of Prezzo Ruto. That was in May. There was a spring in his gait as he trotted the world, propping himself as one of the continent’s spokesmen.

Pointedly, Prezzo Ruto has been speaking less within his own land, and travels abroad even lesser since the Gen-Z protests began. Instead, visitors have been coming his way, the most recent being the top US official, Uzra Zeya, who was here to deliver a specific message to Prezzo Ruto: Stop police brutality on peaceful protestors, or else…

I’m not sure if the police got this message, given the reported incidents of brutality yesterday, but even such heavy-handedness served to enhance the credibility of Gen-Z’s demands for accountability.

The protestors appear to be gaining ground on other fronts. We all know, save for the 20 or 19 members in the Cabinet, that the economy is in the doldrums. Losing a day or two in every week of protest is a debilitating body blow to the economy. Dwindled business hours mean declining taxes. And lesser job opportunities.

Connected to the latter is the issue of foreign direct investment. No one will invest their money in a city run by soldiers, or sell conferencing or tourist opportunities. Soldiers mean different sort of business. As the gateway to East Africa, many of our neighbours rely on us for the safe passage of their goods and services. When Nairobi sneezes, the neighbours catch the flu.

Somebody calls these incremental successes “termite coup.” There are no swift and sweeping events to describe the success of the youths’ protests, though their gains are obvious and irreversible. Just like the termites, Gen-Zs are eating away at the legitimacy of the Ruto State, one protest at a time.