The 'little buffalo' inspires digital creativity in an unintended way

William Kabogo Gitau, the Cabinet Secretary for ICT and the Digital Economy, is quite the dreamer. He hopes to be President someday, after fulfilling his dream of being the Mt Kenya region’s kingpin.

The man has adopted the late Mwai Kibaki’s hairstyle, probably hoping his fast balding will unlock statesmanlike wisdom.

Kabogo, whose name means little buffalo, was hired to counter the noisy former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua, who also goes by Riggy G and Villager monikers. He was to be President William Ruto’s answer to Riggy G in Kiambu, a county Kabogo once headed.

But since his hiring in January, Kabogo appears to have fallen short of a formula that would endear him to Murima. The answers lay in playing the villager, which is fast making him an internet meme—a digital punchline in a ministry that is, ironically, about controlling digital content.

Let’s begin with the image that broke the internet: Kabogo in brown trousers that looked like they had been borrowed from an uncle stuck in 1987. They fought valiantly with his brown-striped socks, which couldn't decide whether they were part of a golf uniform or Machang'i’s costume.

Had he stuffed garments around his torso and worn some chalk dust on his face, he would have passed off for a Zangalewa dancer. A bit more muscular and with longer hair, he would look like the real-life Heihachi Mishima from Tekken.

Kabogo’s legs were sprawled apart in a manspread so aggressive it could be declared a public hazard. Netizens declared war. Memes flew. TikTok sprouted. X burned. And all the while, Kabogo sat calm, like a vintage sofa in a modern showroom—awkward, confusing, but somehow still there.

But of course, Kabogo is not new to attention. He is a man of many firsts. The first governor of Kiambu County, he lost his seat when word spread that he had told his constituents, stretching their hands for handouts, to line up like... well, those are not words to print here.

Kabogo denies uttering those derogatory words, perhaps as much as he denies being classmates with the man who dethroned him, Ferdinand Waititu. Kabogo holds a Bachelor of Commerce in Accounting and Finance from the Punjab University in India, one of the several dozen that seem to pop up whenever a politician needs a quick academic glow-up.

Waititu, too, says he holds a degree from Punjab. But here's the punchline: back in 2020, Kabogo, with all the seriousness of a man trying to solve world hunger, hired lawyer Issa Mansour to challenge Waititu’s academic credentials.

Kabogo once claimed Waititu’s degree was as real as a unicorn in Githurai. Why was Kabogo so invested in trashing Waititu’s degree? Perhaps he remembers himself as the only black kid on campus. Given how light-skinned Waititu is, Kabogo may have confused him for a Pandhre.

Naturally, Kenyans asked some hard questions on what transpired at the Punjab University.

In his previous life, Kabogo served as the leader of the Tujibebe Wakenya Party, a name that roughly translates to “Let’s carry ourselves, Kenyans.” Poetic, until you realise the only person that party is carrying is Kabogo himself. Not a single elected leader flies its flag.

During his vetting, Kabogo declared war on TikTok, Facebook, and X. “There’s too much pornography!” he said, as if the apps had personally offended him. His first directive? To summon the Communication Authority of Kenya and figure out how to “regulate the content.” One can only hope someone explains VPNs to him before he tries to ban the internet.

He then made a heartfelt plea to Gen Z, a generation raised on sarcasm and WiFi. “Engage responsibly,” he said. “One day you’ll be fathers. Imagine putting your father in a coffin!”

Gen Z responded the only way they know how: by putting Kabogo in a digital coffin filled with memes, TikToks, and looped manspread gifs.

And yet, here he is. The 64-year-old politician whose mismatched wardrobe the Gen Z see an unmatched ambition. And he is  the man heading the most future-focused ministry, coming after the docket went through three CSs in under two years.

Is Kabogo qualified for the job? He says so. Is he entertaining? Absolutely. His greatest contribution to the ICT ministry may be unintentionally showcasing the power of digital creativity. Thanks to Kabogo, young Kenyans are now using AI, editing apps, meme generators, and deepfakes at lightning speed—to troll him.

In a weird, poetic way, Kabogo is finally inspiring innovation in ICT. Just not the kind he expected.