Goons In Kenyan Politics — Who Pays Them And Who Benefits
img_tag = ("The choreography is always the same. As Kenya approaches election season, young men with nothing to lose begin congregating in bars across Eastlands, Kibera, and Mathare. They speak in hushed tones about "jobs" that pay Sh500 to Sh2,000 per day — more than many will see in legitimate work all month. The work? Disrupting opposition rallies, throwing stones, or ensuring certain ballot boxes never make it to counting centers.
This is Kenya's shadow economy of political violence, a lucrative ecosystem that thrives on our democratic processes while simultaneously undermining them. With youth unemployment sitting at a staggering 39% according to the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics, and 83% of young Kenyans engaged in informal employment, the math is brutally simple: desperation meets opportunity, and violence becomes a viable career path.
The funding structure is more sophisticated than most Kenyans realize. At the top sit politicians, businesspeople, and their proxies — the "owners" who rarely dirty their hands directly. Below them operates a network of middle managers: former councillors, party officials, and local strongmen who recruit and coordinate. At the bottom are the foot soldiers, predominantly young men aged 18-35 from informal settlements, paid per incident and disposable by design.
Consider the 2017 general elections. Human Rights Watch documented at least 92 deaths linked to electoral violence, with Kisumu, Migori, and parts of Nairobi bearing the heaviest burden. The violence wasn't random — it was strategically deployed in swing constituencies where relatively small disruptions could affect thousands of votes. A single disrupted polling station in Kibra or Mathare could influence 800-1,200 registered voters. The return on investment, for those willing to pay, was substantial.
The economics are revealing. During peak election periods, the daily wage for political goons can exceed what university graduates earn in formal employment. While a fresh graduate might struggle to find work paying Sh25,000 monthly, a young man willing to throw stones or intimidate voters can earn Sh5,000-10,000 per week during active campaign periods. This perverse incentive structure helps explain why electoral violence persists despite Kenya's growing economy and educated population.
But who really benefits? Follow the money, and you'll find the same names appearing across multiple election cycles. Wealthy politicians use violence as insurance — disrupting areas where they expect to lose while ensuring their strongholds remain "peaceful." Construction moguls and import barons fund chaos in constituencies where unfriendly politicians might threaten their government contracts. The violence isn't ideological; it's transactional.
The geographic patterns tell the story. Violence rarely erupts in Karen, Muthaiga, or Runda — areas where the political and economic elite live. Instead, it concentrates in places like Kondele, Kawangware, and Majengo, where poverty provides both motivation and cover. The victims and perpetrators often come from the same communities, turning neighbor against neighbor while the puppet masters remain safely removed.
Kenya's institutions have proven inadequately equipped to break this cycle. The National Cohesion and Integration Commission has prosecuted high-profile cases, but conviction rates remain low. The Witness Protection Act exists on paper, but witnesses still disappear or recant testimonies. Most tellingly, the same faces appear in different political camps across election cycles, suggesting the violence-for-hire industry operates independently of genuine political conviction.
The 2022 elections showed both progress and persistent challenges. Overall fatalities decreased significantly compared to 2017, but isolated incidents in Kisumu, Embakasi East, and several Coast constituencies revealed the infrastructure of violence remains intact, merely dormant between electoral cycles.
Breaking this ecosystem requires attacking its economic foundations. First, aggressive prosecution of funders, not just foot soldiers. The Proceeds of Crime and Anti-Money Laundering Act provides tools that remain underutilized. Second, targeted youth employment programs in violence-prone constituencies during election periods. Third, campaign finance transparency that makes it harder to move large sums without scrutiny.
Most crucially, Kenyan voters must recognize their own power to make violence unprofitable. Politicians fund goons because they believe violence wins elections. The moment voters consistently punish violent politicians at the ballot box, the entire ecosystem collapses.
Democracy cannot coexist indefinitely with organized political violence. Every Kenyan who benefits from this system — from the financiers to the foot soldiers — must understand that they are slowly strangling the very institutions that offer our only path to genuine prosperity.
The choice is ours. We can continue subsidizing chaos, or we can make peace profitable.
— TrueWire Editorial