MGHALA MUUE NA HAKI YAKE UMPE: Giving President Ruto His Due, Despite the Pain

By Fred Allan Nyankuru

In the midst of rising public frustration, economic discomfort, and increasing disillusionment with leadership, it is easy—and perhaps fashionable—to throw stones at President William Ruto’s administration. The discontent is understandable. Life is hard. Prices are high. Expectations remain unmet. But in the face of this dissatisfaction, we must pause, take a deep breath, and reflect more critically on the big picture. We must invoke a timeless Swahili wisdom: “Mghala muue na haki yake umpe”—if someone deserves blame, give it; but if they deserve credit, don’t deny them their due.

Ruto’s presidency has not been perfect—far from it. But imperfection is not the same as failure. In fact, when examined with the benefit of objectivity and context, his administration reflects the painful but necessary transition of a nation trying to correct the sins of its past while forging a more stable future. This journey, though uncomfortable, is one of national maturation. And Ruto has shown the resolve to walk the hard road—much like the founding fathers of the Asian Tigers—China, Singapore, South Korea, and Malaysia.

Let’s begin with the economy. When President Ruto inherited the reins from the Jubilee administration under President Uhuru Kenyatta, the nation was teetering under the weight of unsustainable debt, bloated subsidies, and a dangerously dependent culture. The public finances were in shambles, with debt repayments consuming the lion’s share of government revenues.

Ruto’s administration made the unpopular choice to cut consumption subsidies—not because he enjoyed seeing wananchi suffer, but because he recognized the fallacy of using borrowed money to subsidize consumption. Instead, he began redirecting resources toward production—particularly in agriculture, the backbone of Kenya’s economy. Fertilizer subsidies, revival of agricultural extension services, and the push for value addition are part of a long-term shift. Painful? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely. 

Economic indicators, while still fragile, show signs of recovery. The shilling has stabilized after historic lows, inflation is slowly coming under control, and government revenues are rising. These are not magical achievements—they are signs of disciplined economic stewardship in the face of adversity. 

Secondly, in the realm of education, a sector often sacrificed at the altar of political populism, Ruto’s administration has shown rare political courage. The reform of the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC), once an unwieldy and confusing monster, has begun to take shape under his leadership. By streamlining its implementation and addressing gaps in teacher training and infrastructure, the system is slowly finding its footing. 

Furthermore, the decision to employ over 56,000 teachers in less than two years is not a small feat. This not only improves education quality but directly addresses youth unemployment—one of Kenya’s greatest ticking time bombs. Our universities, previously left to rot in financial decay, are also seeing a shift toward sustainable funding models and performance-based management, albeit gradually. 

Number three, the security apparatus in Kenya has long been broken—not because of lack of personnel, but due to systemic neglect and politicization. President Ruto’s approach, while annoyingly slow and admittedly minimal in tangible improvements, is a break from tokenism. The conversation has shifted toward better remuneration, housing, and mental health support for police officers. These are the building blocks of a better security service, not the kind of flashy, short-term fixes that dominate headlines.

He may not have delivered everything, but the foundation is being laid. And as anyone who has built anything worthwhile knows, foundations take the longest—and are the least appreciated—until the walls start to rise.

Four, the overhaul of Kenya’s healthcare system through the Social Health Authority (SHA) was initially met with hostility. Powerful forces that benefited from the inefficiencies and chaos of the National Hospital Insurance Fund (NHIF) waged a quiet war of sabotage. But the government, to its credit, stood firm. The new system, while still young, is already showing promise in widening access and reducing fraud. It is far from perfect, but it is a bold attempt to give Kenyans a more accountable and equitable health system.

Five, none of these reforms mean much if the elephant in the room —our young people remaining jobless —is not addressed. But here’s the paradox: fixing unemployment is not done through slogans or handouts. It is achieved by improving education, supporting agriculture, boosting local manufacturing, and fixing healthcare—all of which President Ruto is doing, albeit imperfectly. Solve these four, and you reduce unemployment by half. Not in two years. Not even in five. But certainly in the lifespan of a serious national development agenda.

Media Bias: The Real Enemy of Progress

The Kenyan media, once hailed as a pillar of democracy, has increasingly devolved into a tool of partisan manipulation. Many leading media houses are owned or controlled by individuals and cartels threatened by reform. Their profits were protected by the inefficiencies of the past—skewed tenders, opaque government deals, and cheap political headlines.

The narrative often peddled by sections of the Kenyan media, paints an utterly ominous picture. Driven by partisan agendas and vested interests, these outlets engage in a relentless campaign of disinformation and misinformation, portraying progress as failure and challenges as insurmountable obstacles. They perpetuate the fallacy that meaningful change should be swift and painless, ignoring the historical reality that enduring prosperity is forged through sustained effort and sacrifice. It is no surprise, that the media has become a megaphone of doom, amplifying failures, ignoring wins, and constantly demanding miracles. They have convinced the public that change should be instant, painless, and perfect. And when it’s not, they declare it a failure. This is not journalism. It is sabotage.

Let us not romanticize the pain Kenyans are going through. It is real. But let us also not allow that pain to blind us from truth. Leadership is not about making people feel good—it is about doing the hard things that secure a better future, even at great political cost.

Ruto has made mistakes—some avoidable, some understandable. He must be held accountable. But he must also be recognized for what he’s trying to do: to drag Kenya from the seductive ease of shortcuts to the hard, honest work of nation-building. That alone deserves our respect.

So yes, mghala muue na haki yake umpe. Criticize where it is due. But let us not withhold credit where it is earned—however inconvenient it may be for those whose profits depend on chaos.