By James Okoth
The political theatre that unfolded in Gilgil today may have seemed like a solemn funeral, but in truth, it was a rehearsal for a revolution and its lead actor, former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua, knows the script by heart.
Standing before mourners at the burial of Mama Terry Kariuki, widow of the slain patriot JM Kariuki, Gachagua shed the skin of a government insider. Gone was the man who once preached about “shares in government” and “rewarding loyal shareholders.” In his place stood a politician reborn, one who thundered that his camp was “no longer interested in government positions” and that their “only agenda now is to dethrone Ruto.”
That shift wasn’t mere semantics but an open declaration of political war, one that could redefine Kenya’s path to 2027.
Just three years ago, Gachagua’s political gospel was built on numbers and entitlement. He claimed Mt. Kenya delivered the votes and therefore deserved 50 percent of the government. He spoke of “shareholding” as if Kenya were a private company, with regions, not citizens, owning equity in power.
It was populist, provocative and effective. The message resonated with a region that felt used, forgotten and desperate for political visibility after the Uhuru, Raila handshake years. To many, Gachagua was the custodian of Mt. Kenya’s political redemption.
However, that bargain has soured. Cabinet slots, parastatal appointments and state tenders, the real spoils of power, did not flow as promised. Instead, Gachagua found himself isolated in a palace he helped build. His allies were sidelined. His authority clipped. His political oxygen slowly withdrawn by a calculating President who knows the art of neutralizing potential threats.
The Gilgil funeral gave him the perfect stage, a moment rich in historical symbolism. JM Kariuki’s name is synonymous with betrayal by the state and the cry of ordinary Kenyans against the arrogance of power. Gachagua wrapped himself in that legacy like a revolutionary mantle.
His words were deliberate, his tone surgical.
“We are not interested in positions. Our only interest is to dethrone those who have betrayed the trust of the people.” Gachachua roared, his tone, assuring.
It was a dagger aimed straight at the heart of State House.
By invoking JM Kariuki’s memory, Gachagua wasn’t just mourning, he was mobilizing. He painted Ruto’s administration as the new oligarchy, a regime that, in his telling, promised inclusion but delivered exclusion, that pledged equity but practiced elitism.
In doing so, Gachagua repositioned himself as the new voice of rebellion, a populist warrior reclaiming power for “the betrayed.”
This shift has thrown the ruling coalition into chaos. Kenya Kwanza, once a tightly packed electoral machine, now looks like a collapsing tent. Ruto’s strategists, once confident of a seamless re-election, must now contend with a man who understands the government from the inside and knows exactly where its weak points lie.
Gachagua’s move also scrambles Mt. Kenya’s political arithmetic. By renouncing “positions” and framing his crusade as a moral one, a fight for dignity, not deals, he is appealing to a frustrated base that feels economically bruised and politically deceived.
He is no longer asking for half the loaf. He’s trying to bake a new one, with himself at the helm.
For President Ruto, Gachagua’s rebellion is not a mere nuisance. It is a live grenade in his own backyard. The Rift Valley, Mt. Kenya alliance that propelled him to State House was built on delicate trust. The moment one partner turns against the other, the arithmetic of 2027 changes dramatically and therein lies Ruto’s nightmare – he may have created his own opposition.
If Gachagua sustains this trajectory, Kenya is staring at a new realignment, one not defined by party manifestos but by revenge, betrayal and survival.
He has moved from demanding a share of power to plotting a change of power. That evolution is seismic. It threatens to collapse Kenya Kwanza from within and redraw the country’s political geography.
Whether Gachagua’s rebellion blossoms into a mass movement or fizzles under pressure will depend on how he frames his next act. Does he run as a reformist, or as a regional avenger? Does he build bridges across the Rift, or dig trenches in Nyeri?
Either way, Kenya’s political voltage has just been turned up.
