Why Kenyans must be careful with Sifunaism

Edwin Sifuna can no longer be ignored. Even those in power have begun attacking him, which proves they have noticed him. People mock what they fear by calling it the opposite of what they see. Hear a promise, call it empty. Hear a rising man, call him a fool. Well, Sifuna has no shortage of people who see him as full!

But as Sifuna rises, so does the excitement around him. Excitement has its place, but it can also cloud judgment. A few cautions are therefore in order.

Every promising politician soon meets a “gold rush”: a flood of people running towards them. Some come out of love; others come out of need. Around Sifuna are those who genuinely believe in him and those who see an opportunity in him. Telling them apart is the first discipline of leadership.

I write early, while you can still choose your Micaiahs: the voices who will tell you the truth when everyone else is telling you what you want to hear. Unlike the broadbase, which has deteriorated to the point of treating a contrary voice as a false one, I pray you will have the courage to embrace this hard truth: truth is never your enemy; truth, however rough, is always on your side.

Beware of praise

In 1 Kings 22, King Ahab wants war and gathers four hundred prophets. With one voice they tell him to go up and win. Zedekiah forges iron horns and gores the air to show how the enemy will fall. Only one prophet is missing: Micaiah, whom Ahab hates because he never says anything good about the king. Micaiah tells him he has seen Israel scattered like sheep without a shepherd. For this he is slapped and jailed. Ahab goes to battle disguised, and a stray arrow, shot at no one in particular, finds the gap in his armour.

Ahab’s problem was never a shortage of information. It was an abundance of praise.

A praise-only operation turns praise from encouragement into architecture. Compliments become the building stones; mistakes become somebody else’s fault. Learn to tell loyalty from flattery, or you will become a prisoner of both. Truth-tellers need protection, and only the leader can give it. Give someone the standing to say, “That promise is impossible,” “The people are no longer at the centre,” or “That is the path to destruction.”

This warning is not for Sifuna alone. Citizens, we are also a court that rewards the loudest praise-singer. We cheer the leader who flatters our tribe and jeer the one who corrects it. A people that punishes truth-tellers should not be surprised when it is led by liars. When did we last applaud a politician for saying something that cost him our votes? Truth-telling is a civic habit long before it is a political duty.

“Mimi ndiye Sifuna” has evolved into “Sisi ndio Sifuna.” The people have taken these phrases and given them meanings of their own. Neither has a single, fixed meaning. They are symbols; they are political poetry.

“Me” moves to “We,” but neither extinguishes the other. They exist independently and together. Sifuna becomes simultaneously singular and multiple: an individual and a collective identity.

This calls for a clear articulation of Sifunaism. The mystery of poetry is part of its power, yet it invites interpretation. What happens when Sifuna the individual becomes Sifuna the collective? How can that collective identity keep its energy without becoming a substitute for clear principles, accountable leadership and independent thought?

Sifunaism must not be reduced to a campaign strategy. It should be developed into an ideology that Kenyans can subscribe to for the betterment of their personal lives and national relationships. Its value must extend beyond winning political contests to shaping how people live, relate to one another, and build their country.

Do not kill

Sifuna, do not kill. Kenyans have been hurried away from the graves of Gen Z. Anyone who revisits how they died is shouted down by the system and dismissed as an enemy of progress. The nation must “move on.” A country cannot heal by being hurried past its wounds.

Stop at their graves. Code that experience into your Sifunaism. Questions are not interruptions; they are the character of a generation. To lead this generation is to welcome and even admire its questions, not quell them. They are not the complaints of the ungrateful. They are an audit of a state that is failing them. Citizens must keep asking too, long after the cameras leave. Treat questions as assets: welcome them, examine them, and turn them into an active laboratory of strategy.

Do not lie

Sifuna, do not lie. Practise truth-telling. Kenyans have had enough liars; do not add to their number! Reject the evil claim that politicians must deceive. They must not! Sifunaism must uphold truth-telling as a way of restoring and affirming human dignity. Lies cheapen the people, reducing them to manipulable fools, and leave a leadership that laughs at those it deceives. Promise enough to inspire, but never so much that a promise tips into a lie. Hope must not be built on deception.

Keep a copy of the law beside you, for your own sake. When the law is personal, promoting it in public becomes natural. You and the people do not stand on different platforms. The law is not only, or mostly, for the people; it is equally for those in power. No leader should imagine himself superior to the people he leads. Greed gnaws at the law, especially when power begins to regard itself as an exception. Placing the rule of law at the heart of Sifunaism would be a contribution to Kenya’s salvation.

Do not steal

Sifuna, do not steal. Many Kenyans wear second-hand clothes because their ability to afford first-hand ones has been stolen from them. Kenya is exhausted by corruption, with the powerful at its epicentre. Many in power struggle to resist the temptation of Mammon. But a leadership that sincerely seeks to distinguish itself from the past must remain unimpressed by money.

Reverse the practice of the powerful putting money in their bank accounts while putting money in the pockets of the masses! The masses deserve to go to the bank too. They deserve the dignity of saving, investing and building wealth, not merely receiving handouts from those who have accumulated it. The masses are bankworthy, not merely pocket-worthy!

No one can serve both God and money. Money is a useful servant but a terrible master. Money does badly as a god!