By Morris Wambua

Are you an aspiring politician in Kenya? Well, pick your notebook, and a pen, then come closer. Let me educate you. Well, you must have observed that each election cycle, Kenyan politicians roll out their finest performances, captivating the masses with their smooth talk and impeccable lies. But what makes a truly successful politician in Kenya? While it's about having the right connections or a fat bank account, it is also about mastering the age-old art of deception, wrapped in the finest kitenge and delivered with the sincerity of a well-rehearsed sermon. Unfortunately, while as a politician you reap the rewards, it’s the electorate that ends up paying the price. Deplorable!

Every Kenyan politician worth their salt knows that promises are the currency of political campaigns. But why bother keeping them when breaking them is so much easier? The trick lies in promising the moon and delivering dust. Water for every household? Why not! Free education for all? Absolutely! World-class hospitals? Consider it done! Of course, none of these will materialize, but the beauty lies in the audacity to promise them in the first place. The electorate, bless their hopeful hearts, will lap it up every time. But what happens after the election? The voters, who believed in these grand promises, are left to fend for themselves. The water never flows, the schools remain underfunded, and the hospitals continue to be mere shells. The electorate is left high and dry,
with nothing to show for their loyalty but broken dreams and empty wallets.

Have we talked about the road show? This is where our esteemed (mis)leaders descend from their ivory towers and mingle with the common folk. A well-timed visit to the local market or a photo op with a roadside vendor can work wonders. It's all about optics, darling. Don't forget to roll up your sleeves and pretend to fix that road, even if you wouldn't know a spade from a spatula. And if you can throw in a few vernacular phrases for the locals, you're golden. Never mind that the road will be just as pothole-ridden after you leave—it's the thought that counts, right?
But what happens after the election? The potholes remain, and the roads deteriorate further. The voters who cheered on the politician's visit are now stuck navigating treacherous paths, with nothing but memories of a false promise to keep them company. Their daily lives become a struggle as they deal with the consequences of neglected infrastructure.

In Kenyan politics, a good leader is also a generous one—especially during election season. From distributing branded t-shirts to handing out packets of unga, every vote has a price. But it's not just about what you give; it's how you provide. Make sure there's a camera crew around to capture your kindness. After all, if a politician donates to the needy and it's not on TV, did it even happen? But what happens after the election? The t-shirts fade, the unga runs out, and the voters are left with the harsh reality of skyrocketing food prices and economic hardship. Those small handouts that seemed so generous at the time now feel like cruel jokes as the electorate grapples with the cost of living that continues to climb while their incomes remain stagnant.

Again, in Kenyan politics, nothing beats the tribal card. It's the ace up every politician's sleeve, ready to be played when all else fails. Stir up some good old-fashioned ethnic loyalty, remind the electorate that they need "one of their own" in power, and watch as rational thought goes out the window. It's a foolproof strategy—why bother with policies when you can rely on primordial instincts? But what happens after the election? The electorate finds themselves more divided than ever. Communities that once lived in harmony are torn apart by ethnic distrust fueled by the very leaders they trusted. Instead of unity and progress, the voters are left with mistrust and conflict, and a nation further from realizing its potential.

When all else fails, blame your predecessor. Or better yet, accuse your opponents. The mess you're currently in isn't your fault—it's the legacy of the previous administration! After all, you inherited a sinking ship, and it's going to take time to turn it around. Meanwhile, you're doing your best—just ask your PR team. But what happens after the election? The electorate, desperate for change, watches in frustration as the blame game continues while their lives remain unchanged. The promised improvements never come, and the people are left to shoulder the burdens of unemployment, insecurity, and a deteriorating economy.

Once the votes are in and the dust has settled, it's time for a well-deserved break. Those promises? Forgotten. The roads you pretended to fix? Still in shambles. The voters? Well, they'll be back in five years, and you can start the whole process over again. It's a beautiful cycle, really—a testament to the resilience of both the politician and the Kenyan electorate. Every election cycle, the electorate is left to wonder why they fell for the same tricks yet again. Their lives don't improve, their voices are ignored, and they're left to suffer the consequences of their choices. The cycle of poverty, corruption, and underdevelopment continues unabated, with no end in sight.

So there you have it—a comprehensive guide to political success in Kenya. Follow these steps, and you'll be well on your way to a long and prosperous career. Just remember: the electorate might forget your lies, but history won't. But then again, who's keeping track?