BONYO'S BONE: Goons, executive service

Tonight, I pick a bone with Kenya’s political class. I will not call them elites — because their conduct as we head toward the polls does not deserve the title.

Every single week, we are treated to scenes of political violence and intolerance across the country. Young men and women are kept on standby — not for employment, not for innovation — but for deployment. Deployment into chaos, intimidation and violence.

On this platform, I have previously called out the Ministry of Interior and the National Police Service for what appears to be inaction.

Tonight, I shift the spotlight. This responsibility rests squarely at the doorstep of the political class — all of them — elected leaders, aspiring leaders, and those currently in office.

Unemployment in Kenya remains a serious challenge. According to the International Labour Organisation’s 2024 estimates, Kenya’s unemployment rate stands at 5.4 per cent.

That figure represents thousands of able-bodied young men and women actively searching for work and finding none.

Behind those percentages are real people — frustrated, idle and vulnerable to exploitation.

This pool of unemployed youth is being weaponised as the 2027 General Election fever gathers momentum.

While this is not new, the scale, the coordination and the brazenness are new. There is now a structured market for political violence. There are official rates set for heckling, for disruption and for physical confrontation at rallies. The uglier it gets, the costlier it earns in towns and in villages alike.

This is no longer a ticking time bomb — it has detonated, and some within the political class appear to be thriving in the smoke.

These mercenaries of democracy are carefully disguised as they accompany elected officials to political events.

They are introduced as “security” or “bouncers”. But if you scratch beneath the surface, many are drawing salaries funded by taxpayers.

Some operate under titles like county enforcement officers or casuals within the National Government Constituencies Development Fund (NG-CDF) operations. They sit on official payrolls and are well accounted for.

Others are absorbed into youth groups benefiting from national and county government-funded programmes or donor-funded initiatives such as Financing Locally-Led Climate Action (FLLoCA).

During the week, they pose as environmental workers clearing drains, planting trees and sweeping markets. But as the week eases into the weekend, the tools change. The rakes, slashers, spades and brooms disappear. Outcome the rungus, pangas and all manner of crude weapons — the perfect setting to breed and sell fear.

The tactic is simple: mask the money trail, finance them indirectly and create plausible deniability.

Political competition should never mutate into organised intimidation. Campaigns are meant to be marketplaces of ideas, not battlegrounds engineered by thin-skinned operatives who cannot win arguments without force.

We must call this out collectively and unapologetically. Those orchestrating this violence are not strangers. They are among us — and custodians of public funds.

We must demand accountability and insist on political fair play. We, the citizens, have a right to assemble, debate and choose free from fear. Elective leadership cannot be built on intimidation, just as democracy cannot survive hired violence.