Ol Kalou by-election has delivered a message, and it isn't flattering

Democracy for the Citizens Party candidate Douglas Kamau Waweru wins Ol Kalou parliamentary by-election.[Kipsang Joseph, Standard]

Political parties have a habit of setting their own examinations and then acting surprised when they fail. That is what happened in Ol Kalou.

The United Democratic Party (UDA) did not present the by-election as an ordinary contest for a parliamentary seat. It dressed it up as a referendum on the broad-based government, a confidence vote in President William Ruto's political machinery and proof that the ruling coalition was in control.

When you declare a football friendly to be the World Cup final, don't complain when the scoreboard is analysed like one. Ol Kalou has done more than produce a winner and a loser. It has punctured a narrative.

It has reminded the country's most formidable election machine that political confidence can mutate into political conceit.

The first casualty should be complacency. UDA needs to return to the drawing board, assuming the termites of self-congratulation have not already feasted on it. Every ruling party eventually reaches the dangerous stage where podium praise is mistaken for polling data. That is when reality begins plotting an ambush.

The temptation will be to dismiss Ol Kalou, to the west of Mt Kenya, as ‘a by-election’, without a bearing on the east of Mlima. Yet it was UDA that elevated the stakes. You cannot declare a match to be a referendum before kick-off and then insist it was a training session after the final whistle.

The more uncomfortable conversation lies elsewhere. What exactly has the broad-based arrangement delivered politically?

It certainly reduced elite temperatures. Cabinet meetings are calmer. Political decibels have dropped. There are fewer daily threats of mass demonstrations. The bang of sufurias has reduced. Investors appreciate predictability.

But elections are won in villages, shopping centres, churches, markets and boda boda stages where voters have little interest in elite choreography. They judge governments with wallets, the rumble of their stomachs, not press statements.

Which raises another awkward question: Has UDA mistaken political passengers for political assets?

Every coalition attracts freeloaders. They arrive carrying glowing CVs, colourful scarves and rehearsed speeches about patriotism. They occupy front-row seats at State House functions, feature prominently in photographs and become overnight experts on national unity. They are preachy and self-absorbed.

When the votes are counted, however, they contribute little beyond fuel consumption in the campaign convoy. Borrowed politicians do not always come with borrowed voters.

The assumption that everyone who once stood near Baba Raila Odinga automatically transfers electoral capital to UDA is a delusion. Kenyan voters have become remarkably sophisticated. They can applaud a handshake without surrendering their ballot. Vibes from Bunge La Mwananchi conclaves tell a different story, if one dares to listen. These voices may be the authentic voices.

Then there are the coalition veterans: Speaker Moses Wetang'ula. Prime Cabinet Secretary Musalia Mudavadi, from the Francis Atwoli school of establishment politics. They are distinguished survivors. Their political longevity deserves applause; that is about all in the dynamics of 2026.

Longevity and electoral potency are not the same thing. Politics has expiry dates. Daniel arap Moi ruled, with carrot and stick, for 24 years. But he could not influence continuity in 2002. He failed to impose Uhuru Kenya on change-starved citizens. The rejection was overwhelming.

There comes a moment when former kingmakers become elder statesmen, consulted for wisdom, photographed for history and applauded for experience, but no longer capable of moving electoral mountains. Political menopause is arriving for that generation.

In legal parlance, some claims become time-barred. Politics is no different. ‘We are Sifuna’ generation requires new thinking. Senator Edwin Sifuna is a white swan the political dinosaurs did not anticipate.

Meanwhile, the voter has quietly changed the syllabus.

Historical loyalties are fading. ‘Baba Dogo’ Oburu Oginga is not Baba Raila Odinga. He won’t move the arch, not as the deluded hope.

Coalition arithmetic is becoming less persuasive. What occupies the ordinary Kenyan is painfully practical: Jobs, food prices, taxes, school fees, electricity bills and whether tomorrow looks any kinder than yesterday.

Against those concerns, grand declarations of political realignment sound increasingly like expensive background music.

The Opposition should not over-celebrate either. One by-election does not constitute a revolution. Kenyan politics has humbled many politicians who mistook a breeze for a hurricane.

UDA shouldn’t misread the weather. Opposition shouldn’t dance itself lame. Power has a habit of creating echo chambers where every cheer sounds like vox populi. Ol Kalou has smashed a window into that chamber. And yes, ethnic voting has an exit to reclaim the lost dream of nationhood.

The message is neither complicated nor ideological. Less choreography. More delivery, measurable and wananchi-inspired. A year to the general election may be short, but citizens will know when the attempt to reconnect is genuine.

Less traditional coalition arithmetic. More political chemistry, with wananchi. Less dependence on yesterday's heavyweights. More investment in tomorrow's voters, to claim a chunk of ‘We are Sifuna’.

Elections are stubborn. They refuse to be won by PowerPoint presentations, elite endorsements or recycled political celebrities. Real-strategist lawyer Makau Mutua should know this from the 2022 presidential election campaign.

Endorsees of yesterday should not pretend to endorse in 2027. They lack the clout and the gravitas to endorse.

Elections are won the old-fashioned way: One voter at a time. Ol Kalou has reminded politicians and their courtiers that the electorate still marks its own examination papers.