Voters queue to cast their ballot in the Magarini by-elections.
Daudi akasema nilikuwa kijana, sasa mimi ni mzee (“David said, I was young, now I am old”) gospel artist Solomon Mkubwa sings. It is a reminder that time moves swiftly. Not long ago, 2027 felt distant. Now the election season is upon us, and 2026 will be pure politics.
For incumbents preparing to defend their seats, a few practical reflections may help. I do not claim to be a master teacher; in politics, everyone teaches, and everyone learns. But these lessons keep resurfacing.
First, luck matters — more than we like to admit. Call it providence or sheer chance, but politics is full of events beyond your control that can swing thousands of votes: sudden national moods, corruption exposés, high-profile deaths, arrests, or youth-driven waves. These shocks strike without warning. “Bahati haiji kwa hodi” — luck does not knock.
Understanding this truth keeps leaders humble. You cannot control luck, but you can prepare for it.
No one illustrates this better than George Koimburi, MP for Juja.
In 2013, after winning the TNA nominations, victory looked certain. But at a rally where six doves were released to promote six-piece voting, all flew except the MCA dove — which fell twice. Soon after, an independent candidate surged, and Koimburi lost. Bad luck.
Direct nomination
Later, he contested the MP seat, lost to Francis Waititu Wakapee and again seemed finished. Then Wakapee passed on. Koimburi initially chose the wrong party, but when Wakapee’s widow received a direct nomination, he shifted camps and, by a mix of timing and luck, won the by-election. Politics sometimes gives with one hand and takes with the other.
Second, in politics, you ultimately stand alone. Choose your camp through cold analysis, not to please friends or bosses. If you lose your seat while trying to help a political ally who then wins, no one will remember your sacrifice. Politics follows the aeroplane cabin rule: secure your oxygen mask first.
Years ago, I had two sets of comrades — senior party honchos and a fellow MP. At party events, when crowds were dull, the honchos would summon the MP to “chemsha” the ground with her famous Lingala music madiaba dance style. The crowd loved her. But she later lost her seat. The honchos won.
When her name came up for an appointment, the response by the party honchos was swift: “No, no, we cannot pick her — the government must look serious.” Instead of cultivating voters, my friend invested in ‘madiaba’ dance to please the party.
It was a harsh reminder that your true employer is the voter, not political friends who cheer when you entertain but vanish when you need them.
Finally, know your market value. Do not anchor your future on another politician’s goodwill. Interests shift quickly. A former MP friend, Moses Lessonet of Eldama Ravine, once told me that politics is like a vehicle without side mirrors that is speeding ahead. The driver does not look behind but speeds ahead, even without caring for passengers wishing to disembark. Such passengers have to literally jump.
Your only firm foundation is your relationship with the electorate — the people who actually decide your fate. As the proverb goes, mti wenye mizizi mirefu hauangushwi na upepo wa ghafla — a tree with deep roots withstands sudden winds.
Politics is unpredictable, but these truths endure: luck counts, loyalty must be tempered with self-preservation, and only the people can secure your future.
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Dr Irungu Kangata is the Governor of Murang’a County Email [email protected]
