HOW A NATION FALLS: TRIBALISM, BLAME, AND THE SLOW DEATH OF REASON IN KENYA

By Fred Allan Nyankuru

A nation does not always collapse in the loud clang of war or the sudden strike of foreign invasion. Sometimes, it dies quietly —decaying slowly from within, corroded not by bombs or bullets, but by the betrayal of its own people. Kenya today stands at such a dangerous crossroads, where ethnic loyalty is fast replacing national identity, and truth is routinely sacrificed at the altar of tribal narratives.

We are witnessing a worrying trend: the ethnicisation of everything —from political corruption to criminal stupidity. A rogue police officer acts with brutality, and within moments, social media lights up, not with a demand for justice, but with reckless speculation about the tribes involved. The officer is given a tribal name. So is the victim. And the country descends into its predictable tribal trenches —facts be damned.

When a hawker was recently shot by a thoughtless police officer, opportunistic individuals quickly assigned tribal identities to both the shooter and the victim. They branded the cop as a Kalenjin from Nandi and the hawker as a Luo from Homa Bay, not because this was true, but because it served a divisive political script. Their goal? To make the Luo community feel targeted by the Kalenjin. To fan flames. To poison minds. To ignite hate. This is how a nation is destroyed —not by what happens, but by how we choose to interpret it.

Collective Blame is National Suicide. When one person commits a crime, that individual, and only that individual must face the full weight of justice. But in Kenya, we have become addicted to collective blame. A politician from a particular tribe is caught in corruption? The entire community is shamed or rises to his defence. A criminal incident occurs? The tribal origins of the participants —real or imagined —are used to draw battle lines.

This culture is not only unfair; it is deeply dangerous. It fractures our national fabric and makes unity impossible. We no longer look at wrongdoing through the lens of law and morality but through the poisoned glasses of tribal politics. We trade in stereotypes and suspicions. We forget that the criminal is not his tribe. The thief is not his ethnicity. The rogue cop is not his county.

And yet, our failure to insist on personal responsibility —because we hate or love someone at the top —continues to doom our collective progress.

Even more alarming is that it is now the youth —the very people we hoped would rise above the tribalism of the past who are the chief drivers of this ethnic madness. Online, where truth should thrive in the age of information, tribal propaganda is the loudest voice. Educated bloggers —many of whom should know better —have become architects of division, crafting lies to inflame one community against another, all in the name of “resisting” or “defending” the government. This isn’t civic engagement. It’s civic destruction.

The youth were supposed to usher in a new Kenya —a Kenya that thinks, not one that hates. A Kenya that chooses values over tribes. Instead, many have taken the baton of tribalism from the old guard and are running full speed into the abyss. If our hope lies in the next generation, and that generation is already lost to hate, what hope then does Kenya have?

Some will argue that this is all part of freedom of expression —that everyone has a right to speak, even when they lie or incite. But is freedom of speech still noble when it is used to manufacture hate? Should we protect voices that deliberately manipulate facts to pit communities against each other?

This is not a call for censorship —not yet. But it is a call for introspection. Freedom without responsibility is simply chaos in disguise. And in Kenya, chaos has already worn too many masks (no pun intended) —from tribal clashes to election violence to misinformation.

Kenya’s soul is not buried yet, but it is wounded. The healing must begin with truth and personal accountability. We must reject the culture of blaming entire communities for the sins of one person. We must name criminals for what they are —criminals —not ambassadors of their ethnicity.

We must call out lies, even when they serve “our side.” We must confront hate, even when it comes from “our people.” True patriotism is not defending your tribe —it is defending the truth.

To the youth of Kenya: You were born at a time of promise. Do not squander that promise by resurrecting the tribal ghosts of our past. Use your voice to build, not burn. To question, not incite. To unify, not divide. Let us not become the generation that buried Kenya. Let us be the one that saved it.

Because if we continue like this, —baptising criminals with tribal names, turning incidents into ethnic grenades, excusing foolishness because it harms those we hate, then we are not building a nation. We are digging its grave —One tweet, one lie, one misplaced name at a time.