How Kirinyaga MP, 31, transformed from unknown lawyer to top-rated politician
Kirinyaga County Women Rep Jane Njeri Maina after the interview on August 06, 2025.
What you need to know:
- Jane Njeri Maina defied odds, rising from small-town Kirinyaga to Parliament, proving conviction and service can transform politics.
- From law practice struggles to grassroots victory in an election, Jane champions education, empowerment, and women’s voices.
Years ago, in the rolling highlands of Kibingoti in Ndia, Kirinyaga, a young girl sat beside her father, reading the Daily Nation.
She lingered over pages on Benazir Bhutto, Martha Karua and Margaret Thatcher, drawn less to their politics than to the fact that they led decisively and unapologetically. That girl, her late father’s favourite and the last-born of seven, was Jane Njeri Maina. Today, at 31, she is recognised as the best performing woman representative in Kenya for two consecutive years, and honoured in the United Kingdom for her impact.
“I was always outspoken, even hard-headed,” she recalls with a laugh. “I wanted more than village life and much more than just doing domestic chores. My father taught me to share with others, to be disciplined, and to dream beyond my surroundings.”
Jane’s path to Parliament was anything but linear. After a short stint in medicine orientation at Chiromo Campus, University of Nairobi, her late eldest brother suggested law might suit her assertive personality better. She transferred, completed her degree, and qualified as an advocate. But she quickly found she was ill-suited to the “terrible pay, heavy workload and rigid nine-to-five” of junior practice.
“I've always been free-spirited. During Covid-19, my dad told me, 'Why don't you start your own law firm?' That's how I set it up, in a small space my pupil master gave me rent-free. And in retrospect, that was so kind of her,” she reflects.
Jane’s entrepreneurial streak—honed in a small downtown clothing business that barely broke even but taught her “resilience and consistency”—proved invaluable when she made the improbable decision to vie for the woman representative seat in 2022. The campaign began almost as a joke.
“People in my circle would tease me to go into politics, maybe vie to become a county assembly member, but it remained just that—until a friend made a poster of me vying for the woman representative position, posted it on Facebook, and it went viral. I didn't think we'd win,” she admits. “But my dad always said, ‘Don't joke about things you want.’ So after this incident, I solidified my thoughts. I decided to vie.”
The decision came one year before the 2022 General Election, and she did not even have the funds to campaign. But she showed up every single day at the grassroots, interacting with residents and endearing them to her vision. This ultimately paid off and she won. “The campaign period was not easy. I was told that I was young, my competitors revived photos of a younger me in crop-tops and having fun from Facebook as a way of smearing my profile, but this did not deter me. I was focused on the price,” she shares.
When the victory finally came, it was bittersweet. Her father, the disciplinarian mentor who shaped her most, died just before she was awarded her election certificate. “I was on autopilot, grieving and adjusting at the same time.”
The transition to politics was jarring. Within months, Jane was fielding constant requests for jobs, school fees and personal favours. “I was also spending quite a lot on my friends and an awakening happened when my mother, my only surviving parent, called me to ask for some financial support and I absolutely had no money to give to her, despite having a good salary. I had spent it all on my friends. After this, I drew boundaries and this cost me some of my friends,” she says.
She also faced a subtler challenge: the casual objectification of young women in politics. “There's this norm that you're there because you’re pretty, or dating someone powerful. Some women have allowed themselves to be objectified, and it’s sad. We fought for women to be judged on their intellect and values. I haven't seen men subjected to that. It rolls back the gains we've made.”
Her antidote has been firmness. “In politics, you can be kind, but you can't be nice, else you will be used as a doormat. I've set clear boundaries, earned respect, and kept my focus.”
Sponsored Bills
The woman representative role, she argues, is like any other Member of Parliament, empowered to table bills, motions and statements. She rejects the “flower girl” label that clings to the office, blaming a lack of civic education. “I've been voted among those with the most impactful statements on the floor. Leadership is individualistic and depends on the person holding the office.”
Her decision to run for the seat was strategic because, according to her, politics is about calculating and planning. The incumbent was moving to the governor’s race and the other positions were tightly held, yet she did not have the financial muscle to battle it out with veterans. So she saw the vacuum in the woman representative post.
“First, get into space, let the people know you, then now you can seek or run for other seats. In my county, people are now telling me to ‘run for MP, run for governor,’ because they've seen my work. But before 2022, they didn't know me.”
Tupange Kesho initiative
Jane’s flagship initiative, Tupange Kesho, rests on four pillars: full scholarships for needy students from high school through tertiary education; counselling; home visits; and mentorship. “Just giving bursaries doesn't change lives,” she says.
Over 100 students are currently in TVET institutions; others are in nursing and other college courses through the MNK Foundation, named for her father’s DJ nickname: Mume Ni Kazi.
This scholarship initiative has resonated with families. Nathan Njeru, a businessman in Kirinyaga town, acknowledges its impact: “Njeri Maina has been an exceptional performer, especially with the Tupange Kesho na Masomo initiative. I know quite a number of children who have benefitted from the programme, including mine.”
His concern, however, mirrors a common question about transparency and reach: “My curiosity, however, is that I doubt this is being replicated across the county. I am curious to know how she picks the needy cases for sponsorship.”
Economic empowerment is another pillar, where capital grants of Sh100,000–300,000 are given to women and youth groups, table-banking support, and partnerships with Equity Bank for training. With these, over 150 women’s groups and 20 youth groups have been funded so far. On social welfare, Jane says her Tupange Kesho programme has secured tents and seats for community use, often leased for income. She has also launched a beekeeping project with training and market access.
This aspect of her work has directly touched the lives of small business owners. Mercy Njoki, a fruit and vegetable vendor, confirms that her chama group has benefitted. “She has been supportive in matters of social welfare. She has helped us purchase tents and plastic seats that we use whenever we have a social event or funeral. Initially, we would rent them out but not anymore.”
Yet, like Nathan, Mercy offers a note on accessibility, a gentle critique from a supporter: “What I feel she needs to do better is to come to the grassroots more often and listen to us. I think she is not as available as we would wish. We love her and there are quite a number of things and ideas we would want to share with her on development.”
However, this view of her performance is not universal. In Mwea West, a more critical perspective emerges from Mwangi Mugera, a farmer. He is reluctant to highlight her achievements, anchoring his sentiment on a specific unfulfilled promise.
“I base my reluctance on the promises she made to families that lost loved ones to illicit brew in Kangai and Mutithi villages. She pledged to help them get counselling and mental health support, but that was mere lip-service,” he states.
While he confirms the visibility of some deliverables, “what I can confirm is on gifting schoolchildren school bags – that she has done. I see children carrying bags bearing her name. She has also delivered on the social welfare bit because we have tents and seats that locals use when there is an issue.” He concludes that many of her other campaigns remain confined to “social media but not on the ground.”
Mentorship and Dignity Packs
Another initiative is the Mentorship and Dignity Packs, targeting underprivileged Form 4 candidates with school and personal essentials, plus sanitary towels for JSS girls in partnership with the Ministry of Education. Her style is intentionally personal, preferring small group meetings over grand rallies. “I love listening to people and noting what matters to them most. That's how I set priorities from the ground up,” the legislator says.
On the floor of the House, she is pushing two significant bills: the Kenya School of Law Amendment to remove restrictive admission requirements that bar law graduates from the Advocates Training Programme, and the Health Amendment Bill to stop the detention of patients and bodies over unpaid bills, mandate financial assessments for government support, and criminalise refusal of emergency care.
Her advocacy extends to defending arrested Gen Z protesters, drawing on her pro bono legal background. She has mobilised bail funds, coordinated volunteer advocates, and sought counselling services for detainees. “If I don't show up, who will? They've earned the right to be supported. Many weren't even protesting; they were just picked up.”
The work is draining, she admits, but the sight of hope in young people’s eyes keeps her going. Twice named best performing woman representative by Mizani and Infotrak, Jane’s reputation has crossed borders. The mayor of Milton Keynes, UK, invited her to speak at Chatham House AI Conference, co-hosted by the UK parliament, and celebrated her leadership in May 2025.
“It was a humbling experience and proof that good things sell.”
Her take on the Beijing Declaration 30 years on is reflective. “While we have made obvious gains since the declaration in 1995, there are concerns about the apparent lack of political goodwill to implement policies/legislation that would fast-track the framework for achieving gender parity.
“Case in point, the Kenya Kwanza government promised a 50:50 Cabinet but fell short of that promise, leaving women to make do with what's available,” she shares.
“Further, the two-thirds gender rule has yet to be implemented, despite being enshrined in the Constitution. Besides other factors, this stems from long-running patriarchy in society, which disadvantages women as equal negotiators for opportunities.”
Off duty, she treasures solitude: reading, films, music. “Politics is toxic and sometimes you just want to detox. For me, the best way to do this is to be by myself. I love music. It is my safe space and therapeutic. Don't be surprised if you find me in a studio instead of a club,” she laughs.
Marriage and family
On her take on marriage and having children, the petite but firm lawmaker resists societal pressure to “tick the box” of marriage. “It should be a partnership, a long-term friendship. Don't marry just to fulfil a societal script.”
Looking ahead to 2027, she intends to defend her seat, unless “political dynamics” dictate otherwise. Longer-term, she eyes national or executive roles, “but only if I can be impactful”.
Her advice to aspiring leaders is that “do it for the right reason. Serve. Don't become what you were fighting from the outside. There are perks in politics, but you do not have to steal to enjoy them”.
She believes that for Kirinyaga, she is an experiment in what happens when conviction meets opportunity, and proof that politics, even in its roughest form, can still make room for service.
