14/09/2025
Kenya’s political history is littered with betrayals, humiliations, and bitter rivalries. Yet, for all the political brutality our leaders have faced, there has always been one unspoken code: keep the fight at home.
When President Daniel arap Moi humiliated Mwai Kibaki, he endured it quietly. For years, Kibaki was mocked as “a passing cloud” and denied the dignity his stature deserved. But Kibaki never ran to foreign embassies or international forums to cry foul. Instead, he bided his time, and when the opportunity came in 2002, he rose with quiet vengeance and became one of Kenya’s most consequential presidents.
Charles Mugane Karanja, the once-powerful Kenya Co-operative Creameries boss, was hounded out of office and stripped of influence. The state machinery was unleashed to break him. He absorbed the humiliation, fought in the courts and the public sphere, but never sought to embarrass Kenya internationally.
George Saitoti’s treatment was perhaps the most demeaning of them all. In 2002, Moi dismissed him with the now-infamous phrase: “There comes a time when the nation is more important than an individual.” For a man who had served loyally as Vice President for years, it was the ultimate betrayal. Saitoti swallowed the insult, reorganized himself, and remained relevant in politics until his tragic death. He never imagined bragging about seeking foreign sympathy as a weapon against his rivals.
Kalonzo Musyoka’s days under Kibaki were similarly dark. He was kept at the margins of government, derided as a “watermelon,” and often left in the cold when major decisions were made. Yet, Kalonzo maintained his battles within Kenya’s political arena, however bruising they were.
Even William Ruto, who endured the full weight of humiliation under Uhuru Kenyatta’s administration—locked out of government, denied resources, and reduced to fighting his battles from church podiums—never sought validation abroad. Ruto knew that Kenyan politics is fought on Kenyan soil. His political survival depended not on foreign capitals, but on rallying the wananchi.
And then comes Rigathi Gachagua.
Unlike his predecessors, Gachagua has not only taken his grievances beyond Kenya’s borders but also bragged about it. In a move that breaks with decades of political culture, the former Deputy President has openly admitted to appealing to foreign powers for support in his battles with President William Ruto. For a man occupying the second-highest office in the land, this is unprecedented.
Kenyan leaders have always been fierce in their rivalries, but they drew a line: protect the sovereignty of the nation, even in the heat of betrayal. By internationalizing his grievances, Gachagua has weakened not only his own political standing but also Kenya’s tradition of self-contained political struggles.
In the end, political betrayals come and go. Today’s humiliated leader can be tomorrow’s president. Kibaki taught us that. Saitoti demonstrated resilience. Ruto himself proved that political exile can end in State House.
But what Gachagua risks is different. By running to foreign ears, he risks being remembered not as the man who stood up to Ruto, but as the first Deputy President who exported Kenya’s internal wars abroad. That breaks a sacred code of Kenyan politics — and history may not be kind to him for it.
