We must give voter registration numbers same dignity as taxes
Opinion
By
Lawi Sultan Njeremani
| May 02, 2026
As the Enhanced Continuous Voter Registration concludes, Kenya faces a familiar crisis: voter apathy. In the 2022 elections, out of 22.1 million registered voters, only about 14.3 million actually cast ballots, leaving nearly eight million eligible citizens on the sidelines.
Youth turnout remains alarmingly low despite massive outreach efforts. The Commission is targeting 6.3 million new registrants by 2027, yet early drives have yielded disappointingly few takers. The problem is not merely logistical. It is cultural and symbolic. In Kenya today, your National ID, KRA PIN, driver’s licence and academic transcripts are treated as sacred records of responsible citizenship.
The voter registration number, the one document that directly links you to sovereign power, is treated as a peripheral. This must change. Under Article 1 of the Constitution, all sovereign power belongs to the people of Kenya. Article 38 guarantees every adult citizen the right to be registered as a voter and to vote by secret ballot. Voting is the mechanism through which we delegate or recall that sovereign power.
Yet while the state meticulously keeps lifelong records of how we drive, pay taxes and study, it offers no equivalent personal ledger for how we exercise our most fundamental constitutional right. Consider the double standard. Through the NTSA portal on eCitizen, any driver can access their complete history—licences, demerit points, offences—for personal reference, insurance or employment verification.
READ MORE
Why AI and biometrics will be key to stopping fraud in digital economy
Why Kenya's public service must rethink power, accountability and the human workplace
Why formal jobs remain out of reach for Africa's youth
Roads dominate development budget in Treasury estimates
Why Ruto is at odds with Treasury numbers
How Nairobi bourse got its groove back
Rogue cable firms and ISPs face jail terms, hefty fines
Climate funds reach millions as counties post 87pc performance rate
SBM Bank signals turnaround with profit jump
Small business, big ecosystems: From insights to action: The next step for small businesses
KRA’s iTax system provides every taxpayer with a full, digital ledger of filings, payments and compliance history that can be downloaded and shared at will. Universities and KNEC maintain official transcripts that graduates proudly present as proof of achievement. These records are permanent, accessible and respected because they reflect accountability in daily life.
Why, then, is the exercise of sovereign power, the very foundation of our democracy, denied the same treatment? The solution is straightforward and overdue. Kenya should formalise the voter registration number as a permanent, lifelong identifier for every citizen, embedded in our digital identity ecosystem. More importantly, the IEBC should maintain a secure, individualised voting history database.
After each election, the Commission would upload a simple, verifiable record: “Participated in the General Election” or “Did not participate in the 2025 by-elections.” No vote choice would ever be recorded since ballot secrecy remains absolute. Crucially, the system must be citizen-controlled. The default setting is private, accessible only to the individual via a secure portal, integrated with eCitizen or verify.iebc.or.ke.
A one-click opt-in would make the history public, allowing Kenyans to voluntarily showcase their civic engagement on social media, CVs or community platforms, just as they share academic achievements or a clean driving record. This is not extra bureaucracy. The data already exists. IEBC’s KIEMS kits and biometric systems already log participation for turnout, audits and integrity purposes. What is missing is the citizen-facing layer—exactly the kind of digital service Kenya has successfully rolled out for taxes and driving.
The benefits are profound. First, it restores dignity to the voter credential. When young Kenyans see their voting history as a personal “sovereign transcript,” participation becomes something to take pride in rather than an afterthought. Second, it creates healthy social proof. Voluntary public histories can generate peer encouragement without coercion—“My friends voted in every cycle since 2017; I should too.” Third, it equips civil society and the IEBC with better tools for targeted, anonymised civic education campaigns. And it costs relatively little: building on existing infrastructure rather than printing expensive physical cards that the Commission has already moved away from.
Parliament and the IEBC have a rare opportunity to send a powerful message: voting is not secondary to paying taxes or renewing a licence. It is the supreme act of citizenship. By giving Kenyans a permanent voter number and a voluntary voting history ledger, we finally treat the exercise of sovereign power with the respect it deserves.