Nassir urges voters to demand manifestos, records over rhetoric in Kenya elections

The election season is coming, and with it will come the familiar parade of voices promising everything and explaining nothing. That's the warning Raila Odinga, leader of the Orange Democratic Movement, is sounding as Kenya prepares for next year's polls. He's not speaking in abstractions. He's asking voters to do something harder than simply choosing a side: to think.

The problem, as he frames it, is that political campaigns have become exercises in noise. Candidates arrive with slogans and staged moments, with diagnoses of every problem but no actual remedies. They exploit real frustrations—the cost of living, the shortage of jobs, the decay of public services—and use those frustrations as fuel for division rather than solutions. They promise instant salvation without explaining how it will arrive or what it will cost. And voters, worn down by genuine hardship, sometimes accept the promise because the alternative is to believe nothing will change.

Odinga is arguing for a different standard. Every candidate seeking office, he says, must present a manifesto—a real one, not a slogan. That manifesto must answer specific questions. How will you create jobs, especially for young people? What is your plan for healthcare, education, housing, water, sanitation, public transport? How will you pay for these things? What are your timelines? Which institutions will do the work, and how will citizens know if you've succeeded? These are not rhetorical flourishes. They are the basic architecture of governance. A promise that cannot answer them is not a plan; it is campaign theater.

But manifestos alone are not enough. Voters must also examine the records of those who have held power before. Did they improve people's lives? Did they manage public money responsibly? Did they build institutions or simply use the office for personal gain? Did they remain accessible after the election, or did they disappear until the next campaign? For first-time candidates, the questions shift but the principle remains: What causes have they supported? What responsibilities have they carried? What does their character look like when nobody is watching? Leadership, Odinga argues, does not begin the day someone announces a candidacy. It is demonstrated through years of choices made before the spotlight arrives.

There is a cynicism that has taken root in Kenyan politics—the idea that manifestos don't matter because politicians never keep their promises anyway. Odinga rejects this directly. That cynicism, he says, only benefits leaders who want to escape accountability. A manifesto is a contract. It gives the public a measure by which to judge whether a leader has succeeded or failed. Without it, there is no way to know if a promise was broken or simply never made.

He is calling on universities, professional associations, trade unions, faith organizations, business groups, civil society, youth movements, and the media to create spaces where candidates must defend their ideas in public. Political debates should move beyond personalities and ethnic allegiances to the substance of competing programs. Young people especially, he argues, must refuse to be reduced to crowds for hire or online attack squads. When a leader asks for your support, ask what opportunities they will create for you. Demand numbers. Demand timelines. Demand evidence. Do not trade your future for a temporary handout.

Odinga also speaks directly to leaders themselves. Public scrutiny is not hostility. Citizens have the right to question, examine, and challenge. A leader who becomes angry when asked to explain their plan is unlikely to become more accountable once they hold power. The Orange Democratic Movement, he says, understands that elections must be contests of ideas grounded in the daily realities of people. The party will account for the mandates it has already been given, acknowledge what remains unfinished, and present a credible program for what comes next.

The election ahead, he warns, must not become an auction of empty promises or a competition over who can insult the loudest or spread the most fear. Kenya's challenges are too serious, and the aspirations of its people too important, for that kind of politics. Over the next year, voters must listen carefully. They must question the sudden conversion of politicians who discovered the people only when elections approached. They must be cautious of those who promise everything to everyone but cannot explain the cost. They must reject leaders whose only manifesto is opposition to another person. Most importantly, they must distinguish between those seeking office to serve and those pursuing it merely to gain power. The responsibility, ultimately, rests with every voter. Democracy does not end with casting a ballot; it begins with making an informed choice.