Every political movement eventually reaches a difficult moment when it must ask: What exactly are we trying to build? It is an uncomfortable question because it forces people to look beyond defeating today’s opponent and consider the politics that will endure long after the celebrations end.
That is where I find myself as debate grows over the reported recruitment of former Kilifi Woman Representative Aisha Jumwa into the Linda Mwananchi coalition.
Let me be clear. I am not making a moral absolutist argument. Politics has never been about assembling perfect people. Coalitions are inherently messy, built through compromise, negotiation and, at times, partnerships that make supporters uncomfortable. Every successful political movement has had to navigate those realities. Anyone who believes elections can be won through idealism alone ignores how politics works.
I understand the argument. Kenya is confronting a deeply entrenched political establishment with vast financial resources, state machinery and regional networks. To defeat it, opposition forces will inevitably seek alliances with influential figures across the country. That is political reality.
But accepting political reality should not mean abandoning political judgement. The issue is not Aisha Jumwa alone. Tomorrow it could be someone else with a similarly controversial record. The real question is how much compromise a movement can absorb before it begins to resemble the political culture it promised to replace.
Many Kenyans did not spend the past two years protesting, fundraising, organising and risking their lives simply because they wanted a different occupant in State House.
The slogan “Ruto Must Go” resonated because it expressed something far bigger than one presidency. It captured public frustration with corruption, impunity, patronage, abuse of power and the recycling of the same political elite under different banners every election cycle.
That is why reducing the movement to a single objective—removing President William Ruto—feels incomplete.
If “Ruto Must Go” becomes both the beginning and the end of the political project, what comes next? What values will bind the coalition once its common opponent is gone? Which reforms are non-negotiable? What political culture is it seeking to build?
These are the questions that determine whether a movement transforms a country or merely changes its management. The defence often offered when controversial political figures join opposition movements is familiar: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Sometimes that logic is unavoidable. Politics requires temporary alliances between people who disagree on much but share an immediate objective.
The problem begins when that becomes the only organising principle. If everyone who opposes the President automatically qualifies as an agent of change, accountability becomes negotiable. Integrity is subordinated to electoral arithmetic. Public trust becomes something to manage rather than earn. Before long, the movement is united not by shared values but by shared opposition.
Some argue that politicians with controversial records can be used to deliver votes before being denied positions after victory. It is an attractive theory because it suggests coalitions can benefit from established political networks without inheriting their baggage. Politics, however, rarely works that way.
Politicians do not join coalitions as volunteers. They negotiate. They bring supporters, structures and influence because they expect something in return. Cabinet posts, committee appointments, policy influence and political protection are often part of those discussions long before citizens cast their ballots. History shows that those recruited for electoral convenience rarely disappear once the election is won.
Linda Mwananchi has inspired hope because many Kenyans believed it could become something fundamentally different from the coalitions they have watched form and collapse over the years. It appeared to speak to citizens weary of transactional politics, elite bargains and endless political reinvention. That goodwill is one of its greatest assets and should not be squandered.
Kenya has spent decades voting against individuals instead of for ideas. Every election is framed as an emergency requiring citizens to remove the incumbent at all costs. Every coalition promises renewal. Every victory is hailed as the dawn of a new era. Yet the same political habits endure because the system itself remains largely unchanged.
That is why “Ruto Must Go” cannot become the movement’s only ideology. Removing one president without confronting the political culture that rewards corruption, patronage and opportunism would leave the country where it has always been: with new faces managing old politics.
Winning matters. No one should pretend otherwise. But victory alone is not transformation. A movement that loses its political identity in pursuit of electoral success may still win power yet fail to deliver the change that inspired millions of Kenyans in the first place.
The challenge, therefore, is not to build a perfect coalition. None exists. It is to build one whose compromises never become so great that ordinary Kenyans can no longer distinguish between the politics they are rejecting and the politics they are embracing.
That is the line every movement must guard carefully because, once crossed, so too is the promise of genuine change.
