By Billy Mijungu

The National Transport and Safety Authority Act needs urgent amendment to align vehicle registration with the actual year of manufacture. The current system that assigns registration purely based on the year a car enters the country or when it is first registered locally is outdated, unfair, and detrimental to both buyers and sellers. If a car was manufactured in 1992, its registration should indicate that, not mislead owners and the market by placing it under a later date.

This is not just a matter of administrative tidiness. The impact is real, immediate, and costly. Importers and manufacturers are among the worst hit by the irregularities created by the existing system. Asset values drop unnaturally because vehicles that should retain their worth are registered in ways that erode confidence and transparency. When market participants cannot trust the correlation between a registration number and the actual age of a vehicle, the market suffers.

The public too pays a heavy price. A buyer who invests in what is technically a newer vehicle can find that its resale value plunges because the registration suggests otherwise. For many car owners, this is not only a financial issue but also a psychological one. Imagine purchasing a car last year only to be told that, on paper, it looks older than another vehicle manufactured before yours but registered later. This creates confusion and frustration and distorts the perception of ownership.

Globally, many countries have already moved to align vehicle registration with the year of manufacture, not just the date of import or first use. In the United Kingdom, for example, number plates have long reflected the age identifier of the vehicle, making it easy for buyers and sellers to establish the approximate age of a car at first glance. In the United States, title documents and registration records clearly reflect the year of manufacture, ensuring that buyers know exactly what they are purchasing. Kenya should not lag behind when a transparent and fair model already exists in well-established automotive markets.

This reform would also have broader economic benefits. For one, it would protect the value of assets for millions of Kenyan households and businesses that rely on vehicles not just for convenience but also as financial security. Banks and lending institutions that use vehicles as collateral would have greater confidence in asset valuation. Importers would be able to market vehicles more accurately, reducing disputes with clients and improving trust in the automotive sector.

Additionally, aligning registration with year of manufacture would deter dishonest practices. Unscrupulous dealers sometimes exploit the current loophole by selling vehicles as if they were newer than they actually are. A transparent system would eliminate this ambiguity and protect unsuspecting buyers from being misled.

Critics may argue that introducing such a system would require restructuring of NTSA databases and reissuing some documentation, which could be costly. However, the long-term benefits far outweigh the transition costs. A phased approach could be adopted where all new registrations reflect the year of manufacture while older vehicles are progressively updated in the system.

The government has consistently emphasized its commitment to protecting consumers, strengthening markets, and ensuring accountability in public administration. Reforming vehicle registration to reflect the year of manufacture fits squarely within these priorities. It would enhance trust, safeguard asset values, and create a fairer playing field for all participants in the motor vehicle sector.

It is time for Parliament to move with speed and amend the National Transport and Safety Authority Act. Kenya deserves a vehicle registration system that reflects reality, protects citizens, and aligns with global best practice.

By Billy Mijungu

Baba has been right on many things, but his recent softening on protecting devolution was unusual and unexpected.

When he called for more functions to be assigned to Governors, including devolving basic education, many thought it was a bold idea. But the question remains: have Governors done so well with the powers they already hold that they deserve additional responsibilities? The truth is that they have not. Counties are still struggling with basic health care, stalled projects, mismanagement of funds, and constant fights with the Senate over accountability. Asking for more functions at this stage is like rewarding failure.

What was even more worrying was Baba’s call for the Senate to stop summoning Governors. That was underwhelming, almost disappointing. The Senate is the only institution that truly keeps Governors awake at night. It is the only arena where they must answer difficult questions about budgets, stalled projects, and misuse of funds. They must be summoned often, because summons are not for ordinary workers who report to their bosses every day. Summons are for suspects, for thieves, and for leaders whose decisions must be scrutinised in the interest of the public.

Baba is often shielded from criticism. He is treated as if he is always right, and when in doubt, many retreat to the first rule which says that he is right. But not on this one. Calling for more functions while lowering the guard on accountability is a contradiction. It is dangerous.

A responsible National Assembly should go even further. It should summon the head of the Executive, the President himself, to appear in Parliament for questioning. This is not a waste of time. It is a safeguard against the creation of forty eight little kings, each behaving as if he owns a kingdom. In established democracies across Europe, heads of government appear before Parliament regularly. They answer questions, clarify policies, and are even sanctioned when necessary. Why should our leaders, from President to Governor, act like monarchs above scrutiny? The slightest suspicion that they may behave like kings must be met with resistance.

It must also become easier to recall Members of Parliament and other elected leaders. Even the President should be made to account directly before Parliament. Any design that simplifies the removal of elected leaders is necessary to keep them humble and focused on service. It deters theft, corruption, and arrogance. Any attempt to make it harder to recall or impeach leaders is not about stability, it is about preparing to steal.

Those who are pushing this agenda claim it is about protecting democracy. But how many impeachments have ever caused a crisis in Kenya? None. More than ninety eight percent of leaders remain in office comfortably. Making it harder to remove them is not about leadership security. It is about shielding impunity.

That is why it is disturbing to hear calls to weaken accountability coming from Nyanza, a region that has always stood as the vanguard of good governance. It is sad to see Members of Parliament from that region join in the push to lower the guard instead of raising it higher.

Parliament can quarrel all it wants, but Senators must now deal a fatal blow to the National Government Constituencies Development Fund. NG CDF has outlived its purpose. It is unconstitutional, it undermines devolution, and it allows Members of Parliament to act as implementers of projects they are supposed to oversee. Those funds must be relocated to Counties, where development truly belongs. Any attempt to amend the Constitution to entrench NG CDF must be rejected.

Baba must be told the truth, even when it is uncomfortable. Leaders must be challenged even when the political culture says they are always right. On this one, he is not.

By Billy Mijungu

Kenya’s football dream is alive, and the boys have already done the country proud by booking a place in the quarterfinals of the CHAN tournament. But if there is one truth in football, it is that the journey is never complete until you finish the job. That job, in our case, is clear: we must beat Zambia to secure the top spot and guarantee that our quarterfinal will be played at Kasarani.

When two teams finish level on points, the first deciding criterion is not goal difference, as many people assume. Instead, it is the head to head record. Only if the head to head does not break the tie will goal difference across all matches be considered, and if still tied, then total goals scored comes into play.

That is why Kenya is safe. Having defeated both Congo and Morocco in the group, our head to head advantage secures qualification. Goal difference is not the first tie breaker in this tournament. On paper, it means Kenya can walk into the Zambia game with less pressure. But in reality, that is far from the truth.

Football is not just about qualifying, it is about positioning yourself for the best possible path. If Kenya defeats Zambia, we finish top of the group and will play Mauritius at Kasarani. That is more than just a fixture, it is an opportunity to harness home advantage. Anyone who has been to Kasarani on a good day knows the atmosphere: the drums, the chants, the flags waving, and the roar of the fans. It lifts the team, rattles the opponent, and turns a tough match into an unforgettable experience.

Now imagine the alternative. If Kenya loses or even draws and ends up second in the group, the team will have to play in Tanzania. That strips us of the one advantage that no coach can train for, home support. In knockout football, where margins are thin and nerves run high, playing at home can be the difference between triumph and disaster.

Beyond logistics and crowd support, there is also the psychological factor. The players themselves know what it means to carry the pride of a home nation. To run out onto the pitch and hear the Kenyan anthem ring across Kasarani before tens of thousands of supporters, it gives you an extra gear. You chase balls harder, defend tighter, and attack with greater belief.

Beating Zambia, therefore, is not just about topping the group, it is about keeping the dream alive under the best conditions possible. Zambia will not be an easy opponent, they are physical, disciplined, and have a tradition of producing stubborn results. But Kenya has shown resilience and hunger in this tournament. The boys have already beaten Congo and Morocco, proving they are not in this competition to make up the numbers.

If there was ever a time to make a statement, it is now. Winning against Zambia not only secures our quarterfinal at Kasarani but also sends a message to the continent that Kenya is not just passing through this tournament, we are here to compete, to fight, and to dream.

The fans are ready, the team is ready, and the path is clear. The mission is simple: beat Zambia, play at home, and harness the advantage. From there, anything is possible.

By Billy Mijungu

The State Project Question

If indeed Maraga was a state project, then the strategy is working at equilibrium level. His quiet but steady rise has the hallmarks of deliberate engineering. In politics, nothing just happens. It is always designed, funded, or calculated. In this case, the equation seems to be balancing. It is a matter of when, not if, before it reaches optimum levels, the point at which both candidates fade into the background, consumed by a new force.

Kenya’s politics has never been short of state-sponsored projects. From Moi’s “project Uhuru” in 2002, to Kibaki’s balancing acts in 2007, to the controversial “handshake project” in 2018, the signs are often there. The difference is always in how the supposed project is received. Maraga, though quiet and not naturally political, has managed to cut through public conversations in a way that unsettles Fred Matiang’i, who until recently was the most exciting name outside William Ruto’s orbit.

Matiang’i’s Reluctance

The reluctance and lack of aggressiveness in Matiang’i’s team, or even the candidate himself, is now fueling narratives that are shaping the race. His political goodwill is intact, particularly in Mount Kenya, where many still see him as a firm, no-nonsense reformist who stood up to cartels in government. But goodwill is not a strategy.

In Mount Kenya, Matiang’i seems trapped by Gachagua, or at best intimidated by him. He has avoided staging visible shows of force in the mountain, yet this is a place where he could be as popular as Uhuru Kenyatta or even Ruto of 2022. Politics rewards courage, not caution. In politics, the ground fears nothing. It only fears being ignored. By appearing hesitant, Matiang’i risks surrendering a fertile base to rivals who are more daring.

A Missed Momentum

Matiang’i’s Kisii homecoming and his attendance at the football match in Kisii Stadium was a lightning rod whose burning embers should never have died out. It was raw energy waiting to be shaped into a movement. After Kisii, Migori would have been the natural stop, a platform to tease out numbers and open Luo Nyanza with solid rallies. That tour would have given him a presence beyond his Kisii base. But that moment fizzled out, for reasons no one has explained.

In politics, missed momentum is hard to recover. Once people sense hesitation, they quickly shift attention. The story becomes not about your vision, but about your silence. And silence in Kenyan politics is often read as weakness.

Silence of the Vocalists

The most vocal leaders who entrenched Matiang’i in the minds of Kenyans have gone quiet. Senator Onyonka, Jeremiah Kioni, and others who once carried his message are missing in action. Their silence may not necessarily be about the candidate but about the character of the candidacy.

Politicians love hot Chap Chap designs, the kind of fast-moving campaigns that generate constant energy and headlines. If they don’t find them, they create them. Matiang’i’s camp has failed to offer that adrenaline. Without visible rallies, fiery speeches, or dramatic takeovers, his candidacy looks more like an idea than a movement. And ideas without motion rarely survive in Kenya’s noisy political marketplace.

UPA’s Big Test

This is where the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) must prove its worth. For Matiang’i, UPA cannot remain a dormant shell waiting for the next election cycle. It must be tested, stretched, and baptized in the battlefield of real contests. The 24 byelections across the country present the perfect opportunity.

If UPA can field candidates, win at least 10 seats, and establish a presence in diverse regions, it will immediately change the conversation. It will no longer be “Matiang’i the former CS” but “Matiang’i the party leader.” Politics in Kenya is tribal, but it is also institutional. Without a functioning party, even the most charismatic politician becomes a wandering star.

The squabbling in Nyamira should not distract him. Parties always fight hardest where they are most popular. ODM has seen it in Kisumu, Jubilee saw it in Kiambu, and UDA is living through it in Rift Valley. That is the price of relevance. Matiang’i should welcome it as proof that UPA has a heartbeat.

The Incumbent’s Advantage

Meanwhile, William Ruto, the incumbent, is not preparing to be reelected because he is popular. He is preparing to be reelected because he appears cut above the rest, strolling like a boss simply because there is no real challenger. Politics is perception, and right now, Ruto looks untouchable.

The Kenyan electorate often behaves like passengers being herded into matatus. Whoever has the loudest makanga with the best persuasion skills wins the crowd. Ruto has perfected this art. His ability to mobilize turnout, even when people grumble about the economy, is unmatched. He understands that politics is not about convincing everyone, but about ensuring your own people show up.

That is his biggest strength. He has herdsmen who can get people to the polling station. He has built a culture where loyalty is rewarded, rebellion punished, and turnout guaranteed. Unless his opponents master turnout politics, they are fighting shadows.

Only Gachagua Knows the Opponent

All said and done, Ruto’s competitors seem not to understand their opponent. They treat him as a politician to debate with, not as an operator to outmaneuver. Only Gachagua seems to grasp the true measure of Ruto’s game. He works ten times harder, constantly projecting himself as indispensable, even when unpopular.

The lesson is simple. To unsettle Ruto, you must work ten times harder than him. You must flood the field with rallies, dominate headlines with bold messaging, and refuse to be silenced. Fear will never be sown in Ruto’s camp by speeches or tweets, but by relentless presence. That is what will finally send him to the drawing board.

Conclusion

Maraga may be cutting into Matiang’i’s space, but the real story is not about Maraga. It is about how Matiang’i is handling his moment. Goodwill is not enough. Silence is not strategy. And hesitation is not leadership. If Matiang’i wants to rise, he must seize every opportunity, test UPA in the byelections, and show courage where it matters most.

Otherwise, as things stand, the incumbent will walk into reelection not because he has solved Kenya’s problems, but because he has mastered the art of herding the electorate into his matatu while his rivals argue at the bus stop.