Medals for greed: Why Kenya's political class needs no integrity to shine

“All our problems?” the Christian expression goes, “We send to the cross of Christ.” All our difficulties? We send to the cross of Christ. All the devil’s work? You know the drill.

Many Kenyans, surprisingly, don’t. Surprisingly, because the majority of Kenyans are Christians, one would assume they’ve come across this liturgical refrain. And so, they would know that taking their problems and difficulties to positions of leadership may not be the brightest idea.

History teaches that a good number of our leaders excel in anything, but leadership. This “excellence” is often rewarded with greater responsibility: An MP who outdoes himself playing the stooge is awarded a parliamentary committee to chair; a waziri accused of emptying public coffers into his own pockets qualifies for a promotion to governor. The list goes on. The next assignment often promises greater opportunities for self-enrichment.

This past week, Bunge offered a list of its best performers in different fields, alleged cattle rustling, looting, and sending fellow Kenyans to the afterlife, for state honours. Not all MPs on the Bunge shortlist fit this description. Some do, and their shortlisting, as expected, sparked outrage from Kenyans, as boldly captured in Wednesday’s headline: “Not our heroes...” “Only in Kenya do thieves and killers wear medals while honest men are mocked for earning theirs,” wrote one Samuel Mwaniki on X.

All 60 MPs are set to receive the Chief of the Order of the Burning Spear, a first-class honour bestowed on distinguished and exemplary members of the public service and other professionals. The ideal recipient of this award would be someone burning with patriotism.

Many Kenyans, however, would argue that the only things burning about many MPs are their tongues—and perhaps their fingers, itching for relief only a bribe can provide. President William Ruto, a man with access to “raw intelligence,” would likely attest to this.

More often than not, such honours are awarded not for merit but for loyalty, to the powers that be. Those decorated tend to come with more controversies than the pages in a professor’s résumé, while truly deserving Kenyans are sidelined.

For an MP, already “Honourable” by title, bagging such a national honour is a feather in the cap. Never mind that not all of them can pronounce, let alone spell, the word. An MP can drive on the wrong side of the road and call the officer who stops him takataka (trash). They’re free to clobber each other in Bunge. None of this seems to diminish their right to be called ‘Mheshimiwa’.

The award would place these MPs in an exclusive league of extraordinary Kenyans whose contributions have deeply touched lives. Among the most notable: Githeri Man, whose unmatched heroism against the pangs of hunger earned him legendary status. He gained fame during the 2017 elections by proving Kenyans didn’t need to eat out of plates—plastic bags worked just fine.

He lined up at his polling station with one such bag, eating its contents, githeri, moja moja, in the same way we’re told to eat peanuts. Thanks to his innovation, many impoverished Kenyans found brief reprieve... until plastic bags were later banned.

National honours, conferred by the president, are not the same as the accolades MPs award themselves in sponsored polls suggesting that Kenyans smile every time they encounter their leaders.

These honours are the highest on offer in Kenya, meant to celebrate the greatest acts of heroism—the kind the world has been honouring this past week through the Nobel Prizes.

This year’s Nobel Peace Prize went to Maria Corina Machado, a Venezuelan opposition leader recognised for her pro-democracy efforts. Donald Trump hoped to get it for “ending eight wars,” but alas, no dice. In Physics, John Clarke, Michel Devoret, and John Martinis were awarded for their groundbreaking work in quantum mechanics.

In Chemistry, Susumu Kitagawa, Richard Robson, and Omar Yaghi were honoured, while Mary Brunow, Fred Ramsdell, and Shimon Sakaguchi won the Medicine Prize for advances in our understanding of the immune system. The Literature Prize went to Hungarian author László Krasznahorkai.

The sixth prize, in Economics, is yet to be awarded. But don’t get any strange ideas, dear Kenyan MP—this one’s not for the most efficient looters.

All recipients of the Nobel Prize have invested years into their respective fields. The same, ironically, could be said of the typical Kenyan MP, who sheds blood, sweat, and tears in service of their political masters.

Political masters in Kenya fall into two categories: internal and external. The internal one, naturally, is the stomach. The external one is he, it’s always a he, who keeps the internal master full.

“All our hope?” the Christian expression goes, “We set on the risen Christ.”
Not in Kenya, we don’t. We set our hope on our problems and difficulties, the same ones we keep electing into leadership.