A story is told of how old Tortoise, to the dismay of athletics enthusiasts and his fans alike, chose the Hare as his racing opponent. Family, friends, relatives, and confidants travelled from far and wide to dissuade him from what seemed destined to be an embarrassing misadventure. Calmly, old Tortoise explained that the most important element in a race is strategy.
The Hare, for his part, traversed the kingdom, boasting about his forthcoming race against the poor, old Tortoise.
He claimed he would run to the finish line, return to the start, and outrun the Tortoise all over again. In village squares, the brash Hare wondered aloud what had possessed the sluggish Tortoise to believe he could compete with such a nimble opponent.
Politics, like racing, is the art of the possible. The electorate seeks hope for a better tomorrow: a vision of meaningful change, a more prosperous economy, education for all, accessible healthcare, accountable public resources, and, above all, the safeguarding of citizens’ rights.
A politician wins or loses by their ability—or inability—to align thoughts, words, and actions into a credible promise: one that inspires trust, galvanises a following, and resonates with ordinary citizens. The ruled often see themselves as underdogs and are quick to connect with an aspiring leader who demonstrates clear perception and a deep understanding of their struggles.
In his characteristic unhurried pace, Tortoise moved around proclaiming a race unlike any ever witnessed in the animal kingdom, open to creatures that crawled, slithered, trotted or even flew.
Multitudes gathered to witness his bold declaration that, in this contest, the fast-footed would finish last. In the 2008 presidential election in the United States, Barack Obama was widely seen as a non-starter — an unlikely contender for the leadership of a global superpower.
He was young, relatively inexperienced and largely untested on the national stage. Though a Democrat, he was initially viewed by many observers as a fringe candidate with slim chances of securing the presidency.
Well, that was until he began to speak.
First, he made Americans see themselves through a lens they had rarely experienced before. He appealed to a shared national identity, reminding citizens of their collective purpose. Second, he offered a promise — “Yes, We Can.” Central to this was his pledge to reform healthcare, which later became known as Obamacare, extending health insurance coverage to millions who had previously lacked access. He also deployed his running mate, Joe Biden, to key battleground states to engage blue-collar workers long overlooked by Republican campaigns.
His campaign strategist, David Axelrod, ensured unwavering discipline in communicating the message of change.
Above all, the 2008 financial crisis created deep anxiety across the United States. Former President Bill Clinton, who had managed economic challenges during his tenure between 1993 and 2001, publicly expressed confidence in Obama’s ability to steer the country through the crisis.
Once elected, Obama confronted the financial turmoil with resolve and calm authority, restoring confidence at home and abroad. His rhetoric, rich with hope and moral clarity, evoked memories of Martin Luther King Jr. and Abraham Lincoln.
As former New York Governor Mario Cuomo once observed, “Politicians campaign in verse and govern in prose.” Obama won the presidency — and secured a second term in 2012.
In Kenya, William Ruto similarly won the presidency in 2022 on the strength of a compelling promise. While his message did not carry the same historic symbolism as Obama’s, it resonated strongly with ordinary citizens.
He pledged to uplift mama mboga (vegetable vendors), boda boda riders, mkokoteni pushers and other low-income earners.
He cast himself as an underdog challenging entrenched political dynasties, notably former President Uhuru Kenyatta and his preferred successor, Raila Odinga. The “Hustler” identity became the defining symbol of his campaign and political brand.
Most significantly, Ruto advanced the bottom-up economic model, promising to prioritise those at the base of the economic pyramid. Since taking office, his administration has rolled out several flagship initiatives.
These include the Hustler Fund to expand access to credit, the Affordable Housing programme, subsidised fertiliser for farmers, and the National Youth Opportunities Towards Advancement (NYOTA) programme to support youth enterprise.
The Social Health Authority has also been established to expand medical cover. While these programmes aim to broaden economic opportunity, their implementation has involved difficult fiscal choices, including increased taxation, placing a burden on many citizens even as they pursue long-term national goals.
Close to Kenya, Malawi offers a cautionary tale of how promises can become poisoned chalices for political actors. Lazarus Chakwera, Malawi’s one-term president, lost the September 2025 election to Prof Peter Mutharika. Chakwera had ascended to power in 2020 on a pledge to end poverty and eradicate corruption.
Yet, during his five-year tenure, Malawians sank deeper into poverty, grappling with persistent economic strife, high inflation, and debilitating shortages of essential commodities. Mutharika, campaigning under his Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), promised only one thing: to fix the economy.
This simple, focused message resonated powerfully with suffering citizens. Mutharika returned to the presidency, having previously served between 2014 and 2020.
As the day of the race approached, inquiries into Tortoise’s readiness elicited chilling yet fascinating responses.
He spoke only of a strategy aimed at victory. The race had been run in his mind, and all that remained was to ensure the Hare would never outrun him again—except, of course, when fleeing predators. Tortoise concluded with dry wisdom: “The gods were fair to Hare.”
Political campaigns are often exercises in promise-making. Lofty strategies become tools to engage the electorate, presenting transformative intent.
Parties and coalitions advance manifestos that align collective aspirations with policy visions and proposed solutions.
Campaigns seek to persuade, drawing voters to project trust in a candidate’s ability to deliver effective governance.
A campaign is, at its core, a seductive effort: an emotional connection designed to entice participation and loyalty.
In the race, the Hare shot forward, confident and fast. Near the finish line, he was clearly ahead—but to his astonishment, the Tortoise crossed first, greeted by thunderous applause from equally bewildered spectators.
Wise Tortoise’s strategy was simple yet flawless: placing fellow Tortoises at intervals along the course. When asked how he did it, he was succinct: “Planning. Strategy.”
As Kenya edges closer to the 2027 elections, opposition formations have yet to outline solutions to the country’s myriad challenges.
There are no concrete promises, blueprints, roadmaps, or detailed plans.
A telling social media exchange saw Fred Matiang’i suggest that the opposition’s first priority is to remove President William Ruto constitutionally from power. Beyond that, there is little for voters to reference.
By contrast, President Ruto campaigned throughout the second term of Uhuru Kenyatta and now enjoys the advantage of actively implementing some of his pledges.
It would not be surprising if the 2027 race resembles a “tortoise strategy,” with Ruto highlighting achievements such as the Affordable Housing Programme, the effects of the Single Health Approach, the Nyota Programme, the Cancer Unit at Jaramogi Oginga Odinga Teaching and Referral Hospital, last-mile electrification, Talanta Stadium, the Standard Gauge Railway, and more as he progresses toward the finish line.
To be fair, keeping one’s plans close to the chest can be a legitimate political strategy. But timing is crucial: revealing too late risks being ineffective or perceived as indecisive.
Simply asserting that the opposition has been “more sinned against than sinning” does little to convince voters or provide a credible alternative.
Without clear proposals, the opposition risks being judged on absence rather than substance, leaving the electorate with little choice but to measure performance against action.
