Kenyan politics has a curious way of turning yesterday’s allies into today’s reluctant adversaries. Few developments illustrate this better than the intensifying struggle for Mount Kenya, where Deputy President Kithure Kindiki is attempting to consolidate his political standing while former deputy president Rigathi Gachagua wages an increasingly combative campaign to reclaim the region’s allegiance.
Enter Health Cabinet Secretary Aden Duale, whose message to Mount Kenya carries both the urgency of a political warning and the unmistakable aroma of electoral calculation.
“Serikali si ni yenu” is a pointed reminder that Mt Kenya people are represented substantially in the government. Yet Duale’s intervention, reported on October 23, takes on a more intriguing dimension in the context of his appeal to Mount Kenya residents not to turn against Kindiki. His argument is that the region should recognise the political significance of having one of its own occupying the country’s second-highest office.
The timing is hardly accidental. With the 2027 General Election approaching, Kindiki has become central to President William Ruto’s efforts to recover political ground in a region whose support was instrumental to his 2022 victory. Since Gachagua’s impeachment in October 2024, the contest to determine who commands Mount Kenya’s political loyalties has grown increasingly bitter.
Kindiki’s supporters have sought to present him as a bridge between the region and the national government, emphasising development, reconciliation and continued participation in the Kenya Kwanza administration. In September, a gathering at Kirigiti Stadium in Kiambu saw elders endorse him as a regional spokesperson, an event intended to strengthen his standing. But the declaration also exposed divisions among elders and political leaders over who possesses the authority to speak for the region.
Gachagua, who has positioned himself as a champion of Mount Kenya’s interests from the opposition, has rejected attempts to establish Kindiki as the region’s undisputed political leader. His argument rests on the contention that the mountain cannot be politically reorganised through state influence or declarations by selected elders.
Duale’s intervention consequently serves a purpose beyond defending a fellow government official. It reinforces the administration’s argument that Mount Kenya should not abandon a deputy president who can potentially preserve its influence within government. It also places pressure on voters to consider what political estrangement might cost the region.
But there is a weakness in this reasoning. Holding high office does not automatically guarantee that a community’s economic interests are being served, just as opposition politics does not necessarily amount to political abandonment. Residents must judge their leaders by tangible outcomes, including employment, agricultural livelihoods, infrastructure, healthcare and the cost of living.
Nor can Kindiki’s political legitimacy be settled by government allies or community elders alone. His authority, like that of every elected leader, ultimately depends on public confidence and the democratic choices of voters.
The wider question is whether Mount Kenya can maintain political influence without surrendering its right to scrutinise those who claim to represent it. A region that treats access to State House as an end in itself risks confusing proximity to power with the delivery of public goods.
Duale has delivered his warning. Kindiki’s allies are making their case. Gachagua is contesting the narrative. But the mountain’s electorate is not a political inheritance to be transferred between rival elites.
In 2027, Mount Kenya will have to decide whether its future is best secured by remaining inside government, challenging it from outside, or negotiating a more demanding relationship with whoever holds power.
The government may not belong to Mount Kenya alone. But neither does Mount Kenya’s political future belong to the government.