Ruto will get his second term due to Uhuru, clerics' prayers

Today, I am here to anger Kenyans and provoke their thoughts. My thesis is that the political heavens cannot reverse William Ruto’s two-term tenure because it was sealed before the 2022 ballot.

In the ancient Greek world, for example, oracles did not engage in negotiations. They declared. Whether in Delphi or Dodona, once a prophecy was uttered, it was irreversible. Oedipus tried to flee his fate, only to run straight into it. Croesus misread the oracle and lost his empire. Themistocles interpreted the “wooden wall” correctly and saved Athens. These were not mere predictions; they were divine verdicts.

Kenya, too, has its oracles. And in our political liturgy, the voice of the king and the cry of the clergy carry weight beyond the ballot. After 2013, former President Uhuru Kenyatta publicly declared that he would serve a 10-year term, and his deputy Ruto would follow with an additional 10 years. That was not a campaign slogan; it was a kingly edict.

In monarchic doctrine, the king's voice is equated with the voice of God. And in Kenya’s hybrid democracy, where political utterances often double as spiritual decrees, such pronouncements are not easily revoked.

Yet, as history unfolded, Uhuru attempted to reverse his own decree. He endorsed another candidate. He campaigned against his former deputy. But the political heavens had already recorded his earlier utterance. The reversal failed. Ruto ascended.

This is not a coincidence. It is protocol. In biblical tradition, even kings were bound by their own words. Herod could not revoke his promise to Salome. Darius could not save Daniel from the lions once the decree was signed. The weight of a king’s word is not subject to mood or regret. It is covenantal. And that is the reason presidents should be self-controlled, not controlled by emotions and excitement like normal citizens.

But the king was not alone. Before the 2022 elections, Kenya’s clergy gathered in prayer, fasting, and prophetic endorsement. They laid hands on Ruto. They declared him chosen. They invoked divine favour. In that moment, they did not merely bless a man; they submitted a petition to the political heavens. And the heavens responded in their favour. Why cry now?

Why murmur discontent? Why question his fitness? Why seek to unpray what they prayed for? The political heavens do not operate on whim. Once a prayer is ratified and a priestly utterance is sealed, reversal is not as easy. Even the clergy cannot revoke a prayer that was answered.

This is not blind loyalty. It is recognition of spiritual protocol. If the clergy now find fault, let them reflect on their own role in the enthronement. If the king regrets his utterance, let him remember that even biblical kings were bound by their own words. That is why presidents and the clergy should learn to check their utterances, like commoners.

We must resist the temptation to treat prophecy like preference, or prayer like polling. The political heavens are not a suggestion box. They are a throne room.

This is not to silence critique. It is to locate it within the bounds of spiritual consistency. If the clergy now wish to speak, let them do so with the humility of those whose prayers were answered. If the political class wishes to pivot, let them do so with the awareness that they themselves, including Rigathi Gachagua, endorsed Ruto with all their hearts.

As I usually say, politics is not just a strategy; it is a ritual. The pulpit and the palace are intertwined. When both speak in unison, the heavens listen. And when the heavens respond, the matter is settled.

Let us not like a prophecy when it suits us, only to repudiate it when it does not. Let us not treat divine endorsement as a campaign tool. That is why the hypocrisy we are now witnessing must end, where clergy and top politicians endorse leaders at the height of emotions.

Dr Ndonye is Dean of Kabarak University’s School of Music and Media