President William Ruto during the launch of the construction of Bukembe-Nzoia-Market-Mutomolo road and access roads at Bukembe in Kanduyi Constituency, Bungoma County. [PSC]
Kenya is entering a year of lies — a year of manipulation and exaggeration. For a long stretch, politicians have lied.
But the next twelve months will see them pull, from their insulated bunkers, their last and most piercing reserves of rhetoric — carefully targeted at the voter. This is not a new season. It is an old season wearing new clothes, arriving with a rhythm Kenyans recognise the way one recognises a returning rainy season — not by the calendar, but by the smell in the air.
The Apostle Paul does not only say “test everything.” He adds: hold fast to what is good. Testing without holding is mere suspicion; holding without testing is mere gullibility. A year of lies will demand both from every believer who still wants to vote and worship with integrity intact.
One must ask: why would anyone want to win through deception? It can only be a sour victory. A throne built on falsehood does not become sturdier for being won. It only becomes more anxious, because the builder knows what the foundation is made of. Scripture is blunt: God is not a man that he should lie. A God who never lies cannot be represented by a campaign that survives on deception. Every lie told in His name is, in the end, a form of blasphemy — a borrowing of divine authority to cover human ambition.
Perhaps this explains a strange Kenyan reality: no sooner does one election end than the next campaign begins. A thief is always looking over his shoulder — he runs even when no one is chasing him. An insecure politician campaigns even when no one is competing with him. The fear is not always of the opponent.
This is why yesterday’s rally becomes today’s press statement and tomorrow’s church visit — the same message, repackaged and recostumed for a new audience. It is not conviction that keeps the campaign running. It is the fear of what silence might allow the truth to say.