The real architects remain in the shadows
As Kenya moves toward its August 2025 general elections, a decades-old arrangement between politicians and criminal gangs has matured into something more durable and dangerous than before. More than a hundred organized groups now operate across the country, many sustained by the very leaders who seek public office, raising the specter of a return to the catastrophic post-election violence of 2007. The beating of a sitting senator in broad daylight, caught on camera and tied explicitly to political loyalty, has forced a reckoning that the state has long deferred — one that asks not merely who commits the violence, but who commissions it.
- A senator beaten in the street for refusing to endorse the president's re-election campaign has made visible what many Kenyans had long suspected: political violence is no longer incidental but organized and directed.
- Over 104 criminal gangs now operate nationwide, many directly financed by politicians, and they have evolved from crude election-season tools into entrenched, sophisticated networks with clear command structures.
- Former Deputy President Gachagua, impeached in 2024 and now eyeing the presidency, has been attacked at churches more than two dozen times, while opposition factions fracture and political temperatures climb toward dangerous levels.
- Despite 300 arrests and weapons seizures, no politician has been charged — a gap between official rhetoric and accountability that civil society and opposition leaders say proves the state is complicit, not merely negligent.
- With by-elections already marred by armed clashes and voter intimidation, and the general election still months away, analysts warn that unless the political sponsors of gang violence are named and prosecuted, the country is rehearsing a familiar and deadly script.
Senator Godfrey Osotsi's Wednesday in Kisumu ended with hooded youths surrounding him outside a coffee stop, beating him, taking his phones, and vanishing into the street. The assault was filmed and spread nationally within hours. Osotsi told police it was not a robbery — his attackers had demanded to know why he wasn't supporting the president's re-election bid. The incident compelled parliament to summon the country's top security officials, but for many Kenyans it felt less like a shock than a confirmation.
Kenya's entanglement with politically sponsored gangs dates to the early 1990s return to multiparty democracy, when unemployed young men were recruited as instruments of electoral intimidation. That system reached its most catastrophic expression after the 2007 election, when roughly 1,500 people died in nationwide violence. Now, with general elections due by August 2025, the architecture of another cycle is assembling itself. Former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua, embittered by his 2024 impeachment, is preparing a presidential run. A major opposition party has fractured into hostile camps. And the attacks are growing bolder.
Interior Minister Kipchumba Murkomen told parliament that what were once street-level criminal outfits had evolved into sophisticated, decentralized networks — more than 104 gangs operating nationally, many directly patronized by politicians. Police have arrested some 300 suspects and recovered weapons, but no political sponsors have faced charges. Successive governments have banned these groups; they persist, rebranding with each election cycle. Gachagua alone has been attacked at churches more than two dozen times since his removal from office, with his allies blaming state-sponsored networks targeting his presidential ambitions.
The violence has not spared the ruling party's own allies — a senatorial candidate aligned with the government was forcibly removed from a church service by an armed group in Kakamega. By-elections last November saw polling agents attacked, armed clashes during vote counting, and police firing tear gas at voters. A state-funded research center found more than 120 gangs directly linked to politicians, describing them as entrenched community institutions rather than temporary formations.
Government spokesperson Isaac Mwaura denied any state sponsorship and pledged full accountability. Police Inspector General Douglas Kanja assured parliament the investigations were complete and the violence would soon stop. Critics, however, describe the government's posture as strong in language and weak in consequence. Security analyst Robert Chege called the crisis self-inflicted — sustained by patronage networks and state systems that profit from instability. The deeper question, he argued, is not who carries out the violence but who orders, funds, and shields those who do. That question remains unanswered as the election approaches.
Senator Godfrey Osotsi was having an ordinary Wednesday in Kisumu. He'd just left the barber shop, stopped for coffee, and was moving through the city like any other afternoon. Then a group of hooded youths surrounded him without warning. They punched him. They kicked him. They took his phones and his valuables and disappeared into the street as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving him badly injured. The assault was caught on camera. Within hours, the footage had spread across the country.
Osotsi told police it wasn't a robbery. His attackers, he said, had demanded to know why he wasn't backing the president's re-election campaign. The beating was political. The incident forced Kenya's parliament to call in the country's top security officials, but for many Kenyans, the attack felt less like an aberration and more like confirmation of a fear that had been building for months: the country was sliding back toward the kind of organized political violence that had nearly destroyed it before.
Kenya's relationship with politically sponsored gangs stretches back to the early 1990s, when the country returned to multiparty democracy. Young men without jobs were hired by politicians and turned into instruments of electoral intimidation. They played a central role in the chaos that followed the 2007 election, when roughly 1,500 people died in nationwide violence. Now, with general elections scheduled for August 2025—still up to 15 months away—the conditions for another cycle of bloodshed are taking shape. Former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua, bitter over his 2024 impeachment, is preparing to run for president. One of the country's major opposition parties has fractured into hostile camps. The political temperature is rising, and the attacks are becoming bolder.
Interior Minister Kipchumba Murkomen told parliament that the government was struggling to manage what had evolved from street-level criminal outfits into "sophisticated and decentralised networks." More than 104 local gangs were now operating across the country, many directly patronized by politicians. "The gangs are owned by political leaders who play a significant role in mobilising people," Murkomen said. "It is chaotic. An irresponsible leader is a threat to national security." Police have arrested at least 300 suspects and recovered weapons and communication devices in raids, but no politicians have been charged. Successive governments have tried to ban these groups, yet they persist—mutating, rebranding, reappearing under new names with each election cycle.
Gachagua himself has become a particular target. Since his removal from office, he has been attacked by armed groups at churches more than two dozen times. He and his supporters blame state-sponsored criminal networks trying to sabotage his presidential ambitions. For months, opposition leaders and civil society groups have accused the police of either working with the gangs or simply ignoring them as violence unfolds at political rallies. In February, when police clashed with supporters of an anti-government faction within the opposition, a 28-year-old man was shot dead. The group condemned what it called "state-sponsored acts of violence by police and hired goons."
Government spokesperson Isaac Mwaura denied that any criminal groups were state-sponsored. "The use of criminal gangs to intimidate or silence individuals undermine our democracy and will not be tolerated," he said. "Anyone found financing, supporting, or engaging in such acts will be held fully accountable under the law." Yet the violence has not been confined to opposition figures. In February, a senatorial candidate aligned with the ruling party was forcibly ejected from a church service in Kakamega by an armed group. By-elections in western and central Kenya last November were marked by widespread violence—polling agents attacked, armed groups clashing during vote counting, police firing tear gas at voters.
A state-funded research center found hundreds of criminal gangs in operation, with more than 120 directly linked to politicians. These were no longer temporary formations assembled for a single election. They had become entrenched institutions within their communities, with clear structures and sophisticated operations. Security analyst Robert Chege described the pattern as a portrait of "a country where political rivalry increasingly spills into organised street violence executed by hired gangs operating with precision and impunity." Legal expert Makau Mutua, an adviser to President William Ruto, called it "a Kenyan culture, an epidemic"—a near norm carried out by all major political parties.
Police Inspector General Douglas Kanja assured parliament that authorities had identified those behind the violence. "This issue of goons and guns is going to stop soon," he said. "We have clearly investigated. We have seen where they come from, who funds, who does what." The interior minister acknowledged that police had faced "operational challenges," including corruption and information leaks, and said the ministry was taking all allegations of police complicity seriously. But critics argue the government's response has been strong in words and weak in action. Chege described Kenya's security crisis as self-inflicted, sustained by political patronage networks and state systems "that thrive on violence and inequality." The real question, he said, was not who the gangs are but who sends them, funds them, and protects them. "The real architects of Kenya's rising wave of organised violence remain in the shadows." Ordinary Kenyans are waiting to see whether authorities can provide answers before the violence escalates further in the months leading up to the election.
Citações Notáveis
The gangs are owned by political leaders who play a significant role in mobilising people. It is chaotic. An irresponsible leader is a threat to national security.— Interior Minister Kipchumba Murkomen
The real architects of Kenya's rising wave of organised violence remain in the shadows.— Security analyst Robert Chege
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does this matter now, specifically? Elections aren't until August 2025.
Because the gangs are already operating. The violence isn't waiting for the campaign season. It's happening now, in February, in March, in May. That's the warning sign.
But gangs have always existed in Kenya. What's different this time?
The sophistication. These aren't street kids anymore. They have clear command structures, communication networks, weapons. They're organized like businesses. And they're being used by politicians across all the major parties—not just one side.
The government says no politicians are being arrested. Why?
That's the central question nobody's answering. Police say they know who's funding the gangs. But arresting a politician is politically costly. It's easier to arrest 300 suspects and call it progress.
Is this about the 2007 violence repeating?
People are terrified of that. Fifteen hundred people died. But this feels different—more organized, more normalized. In 2007 it was shocking. Now it's becoming routine. That's actually more dangerous.
What would actually stop it?
Prosecuting the politicians. Not the gang members—the people writing the checks. But that requires political will the government hasn't shown yet.
And if nothing changes?
The violence escalates. The election becomes a flashpoint. And Kenya falls into the same cycle it barely survived before.