Why do Kenyans applaud their ruin, reward bad governance?

President William Ruto, Deputy President Prof Kindiki Kithure and Prime Cabinet Minister Musalia Mudavadi share a light moment during the Third National Executive Retreat at KCB Leadership Centre in Kajiado County. [File, Standard]

There is a hard truth about Kenya that many pastors, politicians, and intellectuals avoid because it is uncomfortable: we are not only governed badly, but we also reward bad governance. Our crisis is not just one of leadership failure; it is a crisis of civic character.

A society that applauds mediocrity, excuses corruption, and mocks competence cannot change, no matter how many elections. A leader can wreck education and be awarded an honorary doctorate. A governor can bankrupt a county and be a guest of honour in church. A politician can empty the Treasury and be praised as “our son.”

Not irony but spiritual and civic distortion. We confuse loyalty with blindness. The most dangerous societies are not those ruled by tyrants alone, but those where citizens lose the ability to distinguish truth from performance, integrity from spectacle. That is where Kenya increasingly finds itself. We do not evaluate leaders by outcomes. We evaluate them by tribe, theatrics, and how loudly they perform victimhood.

The tragedy is not that bad leaders exist; every country has them, but that we protect them. We defend thieves because they come from “our side.” We explain away incompetence because “at least he is one of us.” We turn public office into ethnic property. That is not politics; that is collective sabotage. And then we wonder why roads collapse, why hospitals fail, why schools decay, why taxes rise while services fall.

A nation that rewards failure will always produce more. It is basic accountability. Kenyans have mastered the art of tolerance for dysfunction. We complain online, but quietly vote for the same people who ruin us. We sell our future for a thousand shillings and a small bag of rice. We trade five years of suffering for an afternoon of handouts. The cruelty is that the price is always paid by the poor. You eat the rice today; tomorrow, you still walk muddy roads.

You defend him today; tomorrow, his convoy splashes dirty water on you as you trek to work. The man you shield from accountability will never shield you from hardship. Then there is our war on competence. Kenya has developed a strange hostility to intelligence.

We mock professionals. We insult people who speak clearly and think deeply. We sneer at expertise as elitism. We idolise leaders who cannot explain policy, read budgets, operate email, or debate ideas. We confuse simplicity with stupidity and authenticity with ignorance.

A society that despises competence will always choose spectacle over substance. Yet no country has ever developed on vibes. Singapore did not become Singapore by electing men who could not understand economics.

Rwanda did not become orderly by rewarding people who despised discipline. The UAE did not build prosperity by celebrating people who could not manage institutions. They built states by valuing planning, knowledge, merit, and accountability. Kenya does the opposite. A man with ideas is called proud. A woman with vision is accused of being “too known.” A citizen who asks hard questions is labelled troublesome.

But a politician who steals is called “vulnerable” or “under attack.” This inversion kills us. When citizens stop believing in ethical leadership, they begin to prefer familiar thieves over honest strangers. That is exactly what we see today. Some Kenyans do not actually want change or justice; they want their own thief in office. They do not want a fair system; they want their tribe to win inside a corrupt one.

This is why corruption never ends. We do not fight it as a nation; we outsource it to ethnic competition. We must confront the misuse of religion. “Leave him to God” has become the refuge of cowardice. Faith was never meant to excuse injustice. Every time a thief is caught and we say, “God will judge,” we are telling him, “Continue.” No society has ever prayed its way out of corruption without also enforcing consequences.

Leadership reflects citizenship. If the people do not change, the leaders will not change. And if we keep applauding failure, the nation itself will remain a failure, no matter how many prayers we offer. Truth is painful. But only truth can set a nation free.