Kenya’s political history is, in many ways, a long study in the art of divide and rule. From the colonial period to the post‑independence era, fragmentation has been the most reliable tool for those seeking to retain power.
No one perfected this method more than President Daniel arap Moi. He understood that a united opposition was the only real threat to his rule — and he spent 24 years ensuring such unity never materialised.
Moi inherited a country already structured around ethnic blocs, patronage networks and regional loyalties. But he elevated these divisions into a governing philosophy.
He co‑opted elites from rival communities, weaponised state resources and used the provincial administration to reward loyalty and punish dissent.
By the early 1990s, Moi had mastered the formula: fragment the opposition, elevate compliant leaders, and ensure no single figure could consolidate national support.
This strategy worked brilliantly in the first multiparty elections of 1992 and again in 1997.
In 1992, the opposition had the numbers to defeat Moi — but not the unity.
Kenneth Matiba, Mwai Kibaki, Jaramogi Oginga Odinga and others each believed they were the rightful standard‑bearer. Ethnic mistrust, personal ambition and the absence of a unifying structure made coalition‑building impossible. Moi won with just 36 per cent of the vote.
Five years later, the script repeated itself. Kibaki, Raila Odinga, Kijana Wamalwa, Charity Ngilu and others again ran separately. Moi secured another victory with only 40 per cent of the vote.
The outcome was a tragedy for both elections: the opposition did not lose because it lacked support — it lost because it lacked unity.
By 2002, fatigue with Moi’s rule was overwhelming. But more importantly, the opposition finally learnt the lesson it had ignored for a decade: unity is the only antidote to incumbency.
Three factors made unity possible: Moi overplayed his hand by imposing Uhuru Kenyatta as his successor, angering even loyal Kanu stalwarts; the opposition leaders suppressed their egos, agreeing to a structured coalition, Narc; ashared national mood that demanded change and leaders recognised that fragmentation would betray that moment.
The result was historic. Narc’s euphoric victory was not just a win for Kibaki — it was a triumph of unity over division, strategy over ego and national interest over personal ambition.
Today’s political landscape bears uncomfortable similarities to the 1992–1997 era than it does to 2002: opposition figures not simply recognising one of them—the obvious one as the best candidate to beat the incumbent, high distrust between camps, the incumbent on standby to benefit from every disagreement and the public overwhelmingly wanting change, but leaders are not aligned on how to deliver it.
True Kenya now has a more politically aware population, a more assertive youth bloc and a clearer understanding of how fragmentation guarantees defeat, but the opposition risks repeating the same mistakes that kept Moi in power for 24 years.
Ego has always been the silent killer of opposition unity. In 1992 and 1997, leaders chose personal glory over collective victory. In 2002, they buried their pride — and won.
Today, overblown egos, entitlement, politics of revenge, personal vendettas and the desire to smother other opposition leaders are again clouding strategic judgment. Every time an opposition leader positions themselves not to win, but to block another, Ruto wins.
Every time a coalition fractures over personality rather than principle, the incumbent gains ground.
And every time leaders prioritise short‑term positioning over long‑term national interest, the people lose. Every progressive should say enough of this and demand better.
Kenya’s polls consistently show a public eager to deny Ruto a second term. But polls do not vote — coalitions do. The question now is brutally simple: Do the key opposition leaders genuinely want to answer the people’s call for change, or are they content to pursue narrow, shortsighted ambitions that will hand Ruto an easy path to reelection?
If the opposition is serious about honouring the public mood, then unity cannot be a late‑stage afterthought. It must be deliberate, transparent and immediate. The sooner the leaders sit down, confront their egos and agree on a fair, credible formula for a single candidate, the better the country’s chances of avoiding a repeat of the 1992 and 1997 disasters.
