Kenya’s legislators who have been the object of anger in the unfolding Generation Z unrest, have another chance to redeem themselves. 

They will, from Thursday (August 1) be vetting the new Cabinet Secretaries President William Ruto has appointed in the wake of the increasing demand for quality governance. 

Interestingly, the new lot has at least six of the previous cohort that was described by a member of the then vetting panel, now himself a candidate, as a skunk.

Nominated MP and finance expert John Mbadi, in a feat of anger and frustration, had said, and many seemed to agree, that at least 60 per cent of Ruto’s first Cabinet appointees were underserving.

In addition to sheer incompetence, virtually all of them came to the table with integrity baggage that a more discerning and independent vetting panel would never have passed.

 But passing they did, because all they cared for was appeasing the appointing authority. After all, it was always a game of numbers and the president had the majority of the vetting panel members on his side.

It was instructive that one of the missions Ruto accomplished upon ascending to the throne in August 2022, was to fix the parliamentary numbers to ensure his Kenya Kwanza side commanded a comfortable majority in both the Senate and the National Assembly. 

He began by adopting all the members of the United Democratic Movement and other lesser parties, then used the speakers of the Senate and the National Assembly, Amason Jeffa Kingi and Moses Masika Wetang’ula, both lawyers respectively, to exploit whatever legal loopholes there were to affirm Kenya Kwanza’s majority status. The two learned friends creatively interpreted Article 103 of Kenya’s Constitution 2010 to shield the defecting members from losing their seats. The president did not stop there. 

To further neutralise any possible dissent, Ruto lured several members of the major opposition Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), Wiper Democratic Movement and Jubilee parties to his side, ostensibly to guarantee development to their constituencies. 

Never mind that the Kenya Constitution 2010 provides for a devolved system of government with safeguards for equitable development for all regions.

With the House numbers secure, the Judiciary neutered and sections of the subdued and others compromised, the legislators effectively became the president’s lapdogs, passing every Bill Ruto fancied. 

The lawmakers had effectively ceased being the people’s representatives and were unapologetic, with the more hawkish ones bragging about their invincibility.

Like Uhuru Kenyatta before him, Ruto would summon the lawmakers for firm instructions ahead of any crucial vote. In one instance, the president ordered the legislators at a public rally to pass his extremely unpopular Finance Bill 2023, whose essential component was the even more loathed housing levy. 

For a good measure, President Ruto recommended an open ballot system during the voting to expose anyone who defied him. He insisted that the housing programme, shrouded in mystery and legal challenges, would create jobs for the youth, thus anyone opposed to it was denying them jobs.

“I am waiting for the Members of Parliament who will go and vote against the housing programme that would give these people the chance to own a house with five per cent mortgage,” he said at a rally in Narok, southwest of Nairobi.

A year later, Ruto would come up with an even more punitive and unpopular Finance Bill 2024, which his lieutenants in the House would pass overwhelmingly. 

He harped on the need to collect more revenue to save Kenya from a crippling debt burden while avoiding any mention of the humongous unnecessary allocations like for the renovation of State House and state lodges, the purchase of new cars, the confidential expenditure and for his spouse, his deputy’s and the one for the Prime Cabinet Secretary.  

The Finance Bill 2024 was indeed the last straw that broke the camel’s back, prompting the invasion of parliament on June 25, 2024. The legislators were deemed to have ceased representing the will of the people and, hence no longer deserving of the sovereign power donated to them.

Now rattled by the public hunger, the lawmakers’ hubris, like Ruto’s, has largely dissipated. In vetting the Cabinet Secretary nominees, from August 1, they will have a golden chance to execute their oversight role and convince the masses that they are once again their representatives and not the president’s rubber stamp.

The lot to be vetted comes with sizeable baggage, from integrity, and questionable academic credentials to incompetence. The lawmakers will surely have to choose between the voting public and the appointing authority.