By Edris Omondi (Advocate)
At what point did playground banter become acceptable language in high office?
In recent days, Kenyans have witnessed political leaders in high office exchange words laced with ridicule and body-shaming, language strikingly similar to what is commonly heard in schoolyards.
What would ordinarily pass as childhood humor has now found space in national discourse, raising uncomfortable questions about the standards of leadership and the values we project as a society.
In Kenyan schools, ‘mchongwano’, the art of trading witty insults, is a familiar social ritual.
Among children, it often draws laughter and fosters bonding. But it also carries a hidden cost. What begins as humor can quickly slide into humiliation, bullying, and, at times, physical confrontation.
The concern today is not the existence of mchongwano, but its migration into spaces where restraint, dignity, and example are expected. When such language is echoed by leaders, it raises a deeper question: are we witnessing the long-term effects of normalized ridicule in our upbringing?
Psychology offers a compelling explanation.
Albert Bandura, through his social learning theory, demonstrated that behavior is acquired through observation and imitation. A child exposed to environments where insult-based humor is rewarded learns not only the language of ridicule, but also its social value. When similar conduct is later modeled by authority figures, it is reinforced rather than corrected.
In this sense, mchongwano is not merely play, it is training.
Yet imitation alone does not explain its persistence. Sigmund Freud argued that humor often serves as a socially acceptable outlet for suppressed aggression. Ridicule disguised as wit allows individuals to express hostility without accountability, while laughter provides validation. The result is a cycle where harm is masked as entertainment.
In both the playground and the political arena, the pattern remains consistent: aggression delivered under the cover of humor.
Leadership, however, demands a departure from such impulses. According to Lawrence Kohlberg, moral growth involves moving from behavior driven by reward and approval to conduct guided by ethical principles. At its highest level, individuals act not for applause, but for what is right.
When leaders resort to ridicule, they signal a regression to a lower level of moral reasoning, where crowd reaction outweighs responsibility. This is not merely a personal lapse; it shapes the tone of national discourse.
The implications are far-reaching.
First, it legitimizes bullying. Children who already engage in mchongwano may feel affirmed in crossing the line from humor to harm. Second, it lowers the standard of public debate, shifting focus from ideas to personalities. Third, it erodes empathy, gradually desensitizing society to the dignity of others.
This does not mean Kenya is defined by such behavior. Our social fabric remains deeply rooted in respect, community, and shared responsibility. But moments like these expose a gap between our values and our practice.
From a crime prevention perspective, this gap is significant. Verbal aggression is often the starting point in a continuum that can escalate into more serious forms of conflict. When normalized, it lowers empathy thresholds and increases tolerance for harm.
For institutions such as the Crime Prevention Initiative Trust (CPIT), this underscores an important reality: prevention must extend beyond policing and enforcement. It must engage with culture, language, and everyday behavior.
So, what must be done?
At the education level, emotional intelligence and respectful communication should be deliberately integrated into learning environments. Mchongwano can be redirected into structured debate, creative expression, and humor that does not demean.
Leadership must also rise to its responsibility. Public office holders should model issue-based engagement, demonstrating that disagreement need not descend into insult.
Parents and communities must actively challenge harmful forms of humor while reinforcing empathy and respect. At the same time, the media should resist amplifying toxic exchanges for entertainment value, and instead elevate discourse that reflects dignity and substance.
Ultimately, a broader national conversation is needed: one that reaffirms respect as a foundational value in both private and public life.
If mchongwano is a stage of social growth, then leadership is the test of whether we have outgrown it. When it appears at the highest office, the concern is not that it exists, but that it endured.
Edris Omondi is a lawyer and a crime prevention practitioner and the Executive Director of the Crime Prevention Initiative Trust (CPIT), Kisumu. He works on behavioral approaches to crime prevention, governance, and social policy.
