In the year 2010, the ground underneath Kenya’s political edifice shifted dramatically.
In the preceding two years—2008 and 2009—the country underwent a painful soul-searching exercise, desperately hunting for the ingredients of lasting peace and prosperity.
With the ghosts of the 2007 post-election violence staring us dead in the eyes, the country’s notoriously stubborn political class came under intense pressure to change course.
As they were wont to do, a few politicians actually woke up to the call of the times. A few others slept through the alarm but managed to stumble out of bed a little later.
The vast majority, however, slumbered through the entire revolution—and frankly, almost two decades later, they still haven't found their morning coffee.
Yet, the story of how Kenya pulled off one of its greatest coups against the established order can never be told without mentioning Abdikadir Mohamed, Senior Counsel.
Back then, he was a political novice, elected to the 10th Parliament to represent Manderthe Manderaal constituency. He arrived on the ticket of a microscopic party at the time, Safina, after spectacularly vanquishing the mighty Billow Kerrow.
While very few people knew him at first, he scaled the political ladder fast enough to chair Parliament’s Legal Affairs committee.
He later handed current President William Ruto one of his earliest and most humbling political defeats, beating him in the chairmanship of the highly coveted Parliamentary Select Committee on the Constitution.
Unburdened by historical political baggage, hailing from a small party and a neutral community, and naturally adept at building bridges, Abdikadir successfully steered the country through the treacherous waters of negotiating a new supreme law.
The committee he chaired was not a Sunday school choir; it comprised the country’s most formidable, ego-driven political heavyweights.
We are talking about two deputy prime ministers, 10 cabinet ministers, vociferous women's rights leaders, 11 opinionated lawyers, ex-military commanders and grizzled ex-provincial administrators. It was a political powder keg.
Yet, drawing on his impeccable legal training and calm demeanour, Abdikadir effortlessly won the trust of the committee and, by extension, the country.
He didn't make noise in the flamboyant, microphone-grabbing manner of ordinary chairmen.
Instead, he quietly worked behind the scenes to narrow divisions, only emerging from the smoke when a consensus had been hammered out.
Through his brilliant stewardship, erstwhile political enemies closed ranks to thrash out the most contentious issues.
But perhaps his most remarkable achievement was building a formidable army of progressive leaders—in and out of Parliament—who staked their careers on the national good, often sacrificing their own entrenched interests.
Without his leadership, Kenya would still be engaged in a wild goose chase for a new constitutional order. Kenya is, quite simply, because that group was.
Which brings me to the burning question: Where on earth is Abdikadir Mohamed and his legion of conscientious minders?
Where are they today, as the country teeters yet again on the edge of a very familiar, very terrifying precipice? Where is this elite squad of patriots as the constitutional order they worked so tactfully to enact is being systematically trashed?
Look around. The storm is gathering pace for another high-stakes election, with mercenary goons increasingly running the show on our streets.
On the internet, keyboard warriors armed with new technologies are riding roughshod over national cohesion, turning political competition into a toxic wasteland.
Just like in 2008, political contestation has devolved back into a do-or-die affair—a literal kamikaze mission for each of the main political factions.
Almost everybody knows that things are looking spectacularly bad, yet everything is allowed to proceed as if it's just business as usual. We are sleepwalking into a crisis with our eyes wide open.
For the nation to be saved, someone needs to do the heavy lifting. We need mediators to step into the boxing ring, separate the combatants, and save the country.
The institutional frameworks are failing us because the human conscience behind them has gone missing.
We don't need a miracle, nor do we need a whole army. We only need 10 committed, selfless Abdikadir Mohameds to step forward and save the country from itself.
Leaders of reason, your intermission is over. The stage is on fire; please come forth.
Advocate of the High Court and a Senior Project Manager with the Friedrich Naumann Foundation. The views expressed here are his own
