By the next general election, Kenya is projected to have roughly 27 million registered voters. If we maintain a 75 per cent voter turnout rate—as we’ve seen in past elections—that translates to approximately 20 million ballots cast in 2027. Now, do the math: how many votes can actually be stolen?
Even under conditions of extreme manipulation, state capture, or institutional decay, it is virtually impossible to rig an election at a scale that overturns the will of the people in a landslide turnout. Suppose, for argument’s sake, that a million votes are manipulated—whether by inflating turnout, altering results, or suppressing opposition strongholds.
That still only accounts for 5 per cent of the total vote. Is it significant? Yes. Is it enough to defeat a powerful wave of public discontent, if channelled effectively into voter turnout and organised opposition? Absolutely not.
The idea that President Ruto will win simply by rigging is not only intellectually lazy—it’s dangerously demoralising. It shifts focus away from organising, mobilising and voting. It excuses political failure under the pretext of defeat being inevitable. And worst of all, it plays into the hands of those who want us to believe we have no power left.
The cost of living is unbearable, taxation policies are ruthless, and corruption remains pervasive. From youth in Nairobi’s informal settlements to farmers in Bungoma, disillusionment cuts across tribe and class. There is no shortage of public anger. What’s lacking is the belief that this anger can translate into change at the ballot box.
But here’s the truth many forget: elections in Kenya are won or lost at the polling station and the constituency tallying centre. That is where sovereignty is exercised. That is where the people speak. There are over 46,000 polling stations. Each is manned by teachers, monitored by security officers, and staffed by ordinary citizens. These are not nameless bureaucrats from State House—they are Kenyans, just like the rest of us. Kenyans who are also feeling the pinch of economic hardship, who buy the same expensive unga, who sit in traffic on bad roads, who worry about their children’s future.
Are we to believe that all these thousands of citizens, across every corner of Kenya, will simply look the other way while results are cooked? That they will sacrifice the future of their own families for a political elite that has shown them nothing but contempt? It’s time we gave ourselves, and each other, more credit.
Yes, the President received the IEBC selection panel’s report this week. Yes, we know State House wants to control who becomes the next electoral commissioners. And yes, there is a real risk of institutional capture. But even if the new IEBC is handpicked, they cannot manipulate all 46,000 polling stations, all 290 constituency tallying centres, and all the vigilant eyes watching every move across this republic.
Decentralised vigilance is Kenya’s greatest democratic defence. Let’s also remember that election rigging doesn’t work in a vacuum. It only succeeds when voter turnout is low, when opposition is fragmented, and when public engagement is weak. But if the Kenyan people turn up in their millions, speak in one voice, and fiercely guard the vote at every step—from marking the ballot to watching it counted—then not even the most well-oiled rigging machine can stand in their way.
This is a moment for bold civic education, not fatalism. A time for grassroots organisation, not social media despair. A time for building a formidable, united alternative—not hoping that the other side collapses under the weight of its own hubris. Opposition leaders, activists, clergy, civil society—this is your wake-up call. If your strategy for 2027 is simply to scream “rigging!” after the fact, you’ve already lost. If your plan is to wait for someone else to fix IEBC, or pray for foreign observers to save the day, you’ve misunderstood the very spirit of democracy.
If you want to win in 2027, the formula is simple: deliver to the people now. Present credible alternatives. Build trust. Mobilise votes. Protect the polling stations. Demand accountability. And remember: elections are not won at Bomas or State House. They are won right there, where a Kenyan voter marks a simple X next to a name that gives them hope. The ballot is more powerful than any scheme.
By Gitobu Imanyara