By Morris Wambua

In George Orwell's words, political language is designed to make lies sound truthful, and that's true for Kenyan politics where narrative is king.

Politicians have figured out that if you can influence how the electorate thinks, and successfully shape their perception, you can easily have the votes.

Thus, the strategic use of narratives to manipulate public opinion and manufacture approval is the most conspicuous tool in the hands of the political class.

Politician have elevated messaging to an art form. They’ve honed their skills, crafting stories and slogans that dance through the minds of voters like catchy tunes, subtly (and sometimes not-so-subtly) shifting perceptions, one hashtag at a time.

These aren’t just ordinary narratives, though.

No, no!

These are meticulously choreographed performances, with politicians playing the roles of “common mwananchi” (citizen) while their lives—behind the scenes—remain a far cry from the ordinary.

From populist slogans to staged public appearances, Kenyan politicians employ an array of tactics to cunningly convince the masses that they truly understand their struggles.

But let’s not ruin the surprise just yet. Buckle up as I take you through the many faces of political messaging in Kenya—the good, the bad, and the downright ridiculous.

Prepare yourself for an eye-opening journey into the political theater that keeps Kenya’s electorate entertained, and unfortunately, often hoodwinked.

The Power of Populist Slogans: Soundbites Over Substance

You can’t walk ten feet into a Kenyan campaign rally without being bombarded by slogans that feel like they were tailor-made for a TikTok bio.

Simplicity is key here.

After all, why tackle complex policy issues when you can boil down your entire political philosophy into three words that can fit on a bumper sticker?

Kenyan politicians have mastered this tactic, reducing lofty promises and ideas to slogans that are equal parts aspirational and completely detached from reality.

“Tuko Pamoja” (We Are Together)

“Hustler Nation,” and the granddaddy of them all, “Serikali ya Mama Mboga and Mtu wa Bodaboda.”

These catchy phrases are designed to make voters feel seen, heard, and, most importantly,
united in a common struggle. But here’s the kicker—they're usually more about manipulation than actual solidarity.

Take the “hustler” narrative, for instance.

In a country where class divides are glaring, politicians have found a clever trick to manufacture approval by pretending they’re just like you. (Yes, you!) and framing themselves as humble “hustlers”—champions of the common mwananchi. In doing so, politicians blur the lines between their opulent lifestyles and the realities of Kenya’s working class.

It’s genius, really.

Here we have politicians—who often arrive at rallies in convoys of high-end cars—claiming to be “one of you,” while also casting their political opponents as out-of-touch “dynasties.”

You’d almost believe it if you didn’t know their designer suits cost more than your house rent.

Performative Empathy: Politicians and the Art of Symbolic Struggle

Another powerful tool in the Kenyan political toolkit is what we call performative empathy.

Kenyan politicians have a remarkable ability to adopt “relatable” personas, playing up their supposed connection to the daily struggles of their electorate.

You’ve probably seen them on TV, eating at a roadside kiosk, shaking hands with market vendors, or
even hopping onto boda bodas (motorcycle taxis) like a regular Joe.

Ah, the charm of it all!

Let’s be clear.

These carefully staged moments are anything but spontaneous. They’re as manufactured as a reality TV show plotline, designed to give the illusion that these politicians get it.They’re one of us, right?

Wrong.

In reality, their lives remain galaxies away from the hardships of everyday Kenyans.

When politicians put on overalls and pretend to work in the fields or don a kofia (cap) to mingle with the local farmers, don’t be fooled. These theatrical acts of “solidarity” are precisely that—acts.

They know that the public’s heartstrings are easily tugged by images of shared hardship, but here’s the rub: their policies rarely, if ever, alleviate the very struggles they claim to understand.

At this point, it’s almost fair to say that Kenyan political campaigns could give Netflix a run for its money when it comes to drama and performance. But much like a TV show, it’s all just for the cameras.

Tribalism and Identity Politics: The Oldest Trick in the Playbook

Tribalism. The age-old standby of Kenyan political messaging.

Nothing gets the voters’ attention quite like stirring up a little ethnic loyalty. While other countries might (emphasis on might) focus on things like policy platforms or national unity, Kenya’s political
elite has a long-standing tradition of falling back on ethnic identity as their golden ticket to approval.

It’s almost laughably predictable.

Every election season, politicians dust off their “protector of the tribe” costume, ready to rally their ethnic base with confident claims of defending their community from the encroaching dangers of “the other side.”

If their rivals come to power, we’re told, it’s game over for your tribe.

This is no small matter, either. By capitalizing on ethnic fears and insecurities, politicians manage to whip up a frenzy of support that’s less about actual governance and more about who’s “one of us.”

It’s a tried-and-true tactic, as reliable as a politician’s empty promise of “development projects.”

The tragic part of this story is how tribalism reduces public discourse to a zero-sum game. People don’t vote based on policy proposals or track records anymore—they vote based on ethnic identity.

It’s the “us vs. them” mentality that suppresses real debate, silences critical thought, and leaves the electorate trapped in a cycle of loyalty over progress.

You may also read:

Social Media: The New Battleground for Manufactured Approval

Politicians no longer need to rely solely on rallies or press conferences to get their message across.

Why bother when you can just hire an army of bloggers, influencers, and online foot soldiers to
churn out favorable content on your behalf? Hashtag campaigns, memes, and viral videos are the tools of the trade, and they’re being wielded with startling precision.

Take a scroll through your feed during an election year, and you’ll see what I mean. Hashtags like #HustlerNation or #DynastyOut have trended not because of their inherent truth, but because political machines are working overtime to ensure that these narratives dominate the discourse.

It’s a full-on propaganda war, and the winner isn’t the one with the best policies—it’s the one with the most retweets.

Social media’s ability to create echo chambers only amplifies the problem.

Once a narrative takes hold, it’s repeated ad nauseam until it becomes “fact,” at least in the eyes of those within that particular online bubble.

The result?

A deeply polarized electorate, with each side convinced that they’re on the moral high ground, and little room left for ideology or meaningful conversation.

False Promises and Mega Projects: Building Castles in the Air

If there’s one thing Kenyan politicians excel at (besides slogans), it’s making grandiose promises.

We’re talking multi-billion-shilling infrastructure projects, groundbreaking policies that will solve unemployment, eradicate poverty, and maybe even bring world peace.

Okay, maybe not world peace, but you get the idea.

Election after election, politicians trot out these ambitious plans, painting themselves as visionary leaders with the answers to all of Kenya’s woes. And the electorate, perhaps driven by hope or sheer
exhaustion, buys into it.

“This time will be different,” they think.

These projects often remain pie-in-the-sky ideas, unfinished or nonexistent, yet they serve their purpose—to secure votes.

Once the election is over, the promises evaporate like morning mist, leaving nothing but bitter disillusionment in their wake.

But fear not!

A new election cycle is always just around the corner, and with it comes a fresh batch of
promises.

Hope springs eternal, right?

The Game Behind the Curtain

In Kenya, political messaging isn’t just about winning elections—it’s about manipulating public opinion and manufacturing approval with remarkable finesse.

Populist slogans, performative empathy, tribal loyalty, social media manipulation, and false promises are the tools of the trade, wielded with precision to craft narratives that resonate deeply with voters, even when those narratives are little more than smoke and mirrors.

The sad reality is that while these strategies may secure short-term political gain, they do little to address the country’s deeper issues. Until voters learn to see through the rhetoric and hold their
leaders accountable for their actions rather than their slogans, the game will continue.

Recognizing these tactics is the first step toward fostering a more informed electorate.

Only through political education, critical thinking, and vigilance can Kenya move toward a political culture that prioritizes real issues over cleverly crafted illusions.