Tribal Mobilization Is Not Statesmanship: Why Fred Matiang’i’s Return Rally Reveals More Than He Intended

By Fred Allan Nyankuru

Kenya is a nation at war with itself—not by guns or militias, but by something even more insidious: a deeply entrenched, deliberately nurtured culture of tribal politics. It’s the disease that eats away at our national unity, our electoral integrity, and our ability to rise beyond ethnic arithmetic and patronage.

In such a volatile and wounded space, a true national leader must walk with caution and conviction—committed not to their tribe, but to the republic.

And yet, when Dr Fred Matiang’i—former Interior Cabinet Secretary and now rumoured presidential hopeful—returned to the country to re-enter political life, where did he launch his comeback? —In Kisii. His tribal stronghold. His “home turf.”

This decision, though seemingly ordinary in Kenya’s political culture, was neither innocent nor inconsequential. It was a loud political statement—a revealing moment that showed the nation exactly how Matiang’i views himself and the presidency.

The Optics Matter—and in this case, they were terrible. For someone allegedly gunning for the highest office in the land, what could have been more nationally symbolic, more healing, and more strategic than launching his political resurgence in Nairobi—Kenya’s melting pot, its commercial and political heart? A rally at Uhuru Park, Kamukunji Grounds, or Nyayo Stadium would have said: “I am back, not just for my people, but for all people.”

Instead, Matiang’i chose a comfort zone. A cocoon of ethnic loyalty. A region where questions wouldn’t be asked, and where applause was guaranteed not because of ideas, but because of bloodlines. This is not national leadership. This is not progress. This is tribal mobilization dressed as political reawakening.

The dangerous continuation of tribal arithmetic is still alive. Kenya’s political class has long thrived on reducing leadership to tribal tokens. Every election cycle becomes a game of ethnic chess—who brings which “block,” who “delivers” their region, who commands loyalty not by merit but by surname. And yet we know where this has taken us —Post-election violence, Disenfranchised youth, Corrupt power-sharing arrangements, Development skewed by tribal loyalties, not national needs.

By choosing Kisii as his launchpad, Matiang’i reinforced the very disease we must urgently cure. He aligned himself with the politics of exclusion, of “our turn,” of “us versus them.” That is not leadership—it is regression. It raises a serious question: Does Matiang’i see himself as Kenyan first—or as Kisii first? If the latter is true, then his vision is too small for the great burden of the presidency.

This is missed Opportunity to Unite, Inspire, and Heal a wounded Nation reaching out for help. We must also ask: What kind of statement could he have made by doing things differently?

Had Matiang’i walked into Nairobi’s public square, with humility, courage, and a message of national unity, he would have begun to shed the heavy robes of his past—his role in enforced disappearances, brutality, and state repression. He would have demonstrated that he is willing to grow, to change, to lead differently.

But instead, he confirmed what many feared: he is a man of the system, by the system and for the system. A man whose instinct is to retreat to tribal cocoons, not reach out to a hurting, fragmented nation.

This development only adds another layer to the already troubling profile of Fred Matiang’i. His critics view him as a Puppet of Oligarchs—Not only is he backed by the same oligarchs who looted Kenya under Uhuru Kenyatta, not only did he preside over a brutal internal security regime, but now—he has willingly embraced tribalism as his campaign strategy. He is no effectively, a Servant of Tribalism.

He is not here to save Kenya. He is here to protect the interests of the old guard—wrapped in the flag of his ethnicity. A marionette for economic saboteurs. A mouthpiece for tribal brokers. We have seen this movie before—and it ends badly.

Compare this with a figure like former Chief Justice David Maraga, who though also Kisii by origin, has never wrapped himself in the ethnic flag. His judicial philosophy was Kenyan, not tribal. His fidelity was to the Constitution—not his village elders. That is what true leadership looks like.

What Kenya needs is a president who sees 47 counties as family—not as vote baskets. A president who addresses our ethnic wounds—not exploits them. A president who knows that healing begins with symbolic choices as much as policy reforms.

Fred Matiang’i’s decision to stage his political re-entry in Kisii was not just a strategy—it was a signal. A signal that he plans to follow the same old political playbook: ethnic math, elite endorsements, and authoritarian posture. A signal that he is not new wine—just old vinegar in a shiny bottle. We must not fall for it.

Let us demand more. Expect better. Vote wisely. Because Kenya cannot afford another tribalist in State House. Not after all we’ve been through. Not when we’re still bleeding from past mistakes. Not when we still have the option to choose principled, national-minded leaders like Maraga—leaders who speak softly, but walk straight.

This is our chance to break the curse of tribal kings and crooked puppets.

Let’s not blow it.