Costly, corruption-riddled and violent elections are not worth it

By-elections in Kenya are fights of pride. We can equate them with the event in Greek mythology known as the Judgment of Paris. In this account, the goddess of strife, Eris, tossed a golden apple inscribed “to the fairest” among the gods. Three goddesses, Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, fought bitterly over it, and their chase of vanity led to the Judgment of Paris, which in turn sparked the Trojan War. This decade-long conflict consumed nations and left no true victor. It was a fight for pride that yielded only ruin.

Kenya’s by-elections are our own golden apple: Contests of muscle-flexing where millions of shillings are spent, projects stall, and citizens gain little in return. This week Kenyans went to the polls in 22 electoral areas: Six constituencies, one senatorial seat, and 15 county assembly wards. The Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC) set aside Sh700 million to conduct these mini-polls.

Beyond the IEBC budget, both the government and the Opposition poured millions more into campaign convoys, rallies, and logistics. There have also been accusations that some politicians distributed mattresses, blankets, and cash to residents during their door-to-door campaigns in various locations.

It was more of staging a show of political might than filling vacancies. So, what value do Kenyans truly get from this exorbitant exercise? While by-elections are constitutionally necessary they have become political battlegrounds where parties flex their muscles rather than serve citizens.

The November 27, 2025, mini-polls attracted 181 candidates. Hotly contested wards such as Kariobangi North in Nairobi and Chewani in Tana River each drew 16 aspirants. Constituencies like Magarini, Ugunja, and Kasipul had 10 candidates each, while Malava and Mbeere North each fielded nine. The sheer scale of competition drives up costs, not just for IEBC, but also for taxpayers who must fund security, logistics, and the suspension of government operations.

History repeats itself. When President William Ruto was at loggerheads with former President Uhuru Kenyatta, by-elections became mini-referenda, with projects stalled and millions spent to prove dominance.

During Mr Kenyatta’s regime (2013–2022), Kenya held several by-elections, and they were often very costly relative to their scale. Parliamentary by-elections sometimes cost over Sh100 million, while senatorial races could run into hundreds of millions more. Unlike in general elections, history proves that the government funds these mini-poll campaigns in its bid to show might.

Dr Ruto’s alliance faces off against the United Opposition, treating these polls as a dress rehearsal for 2027. Campaign convoys, rallies, and handouts dwarf the IEBC’s official budget, turning by-elections into spectacles rather than service to citizens.

The irony is stark. At a time when Kenyans pray for economic stability, billions are diverted into contests that yield little return. The elected leaders will not refund taxpayers for the money spent sponsoring their campaigns. Instead, taxpayers are left with stalled projects, inflated costs, and the burden of financing political theatre.

By-elections are constitutionally mandated, yes, but their outrageous cost and politicisation raise a fundamental question: Are Kenyans getting value for money? If democracy is measured not just by ballots but by service delivery, then these mini-polls are meaningless rituals. They are expensive exercises in muscle-flexing rather than genuine representation.

Should democracy be our master, or are we supposed to be masters of democracy? As long as we are trapped in cycles of pride-driven contests, the people remain spectators in a game played at their expense. The golden apple of vanity, once tossed among the gods, now seems tossed among politicians, each scrambling for recognition while the nation pays the price.

As I conclude, the principle of the stability of bowls applies as well. the principle has it that a bowl is only stable when its base is wide and firm. If the base is narrow or compromised, the bowl wobbles, and everything inside risks spilling. Stability requires a broad, solid base of institutions that serve the people, leaders who respect the public trust, and processes that deliver more than spectacle.

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