By The Weekly Vision Political Reporter
Kenya’s approach to the 2027 General Election is increasingly being overshadowed by a worrying return of political violence, with the use of organised groups of youths to disrupt rallies and intimidate opponents emerging as one of the most serious threats to a peaceful campaign.
The phenomenon commonly described as “goonism” is no longer being treated merely as a problem of unruly, mostly young men. It is increasingly being framed as a national security and democratic governance issue, particularly following a series of violent incidents involving political gatherings and opposition-linked activities.
The National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC) has responded by stepping up efforts to prevent political violence, ethnic mobilisation and hate speech before the official campaign period gathers momentum. The Commission’s new leadership, headed by Chairman Bishop Dr Kepha Nyamweya Omae, has made political violence one of its central concerns ahead of 2027.
When the new commissioners were sworn in in May, Bishop Nyamweya struck a sober note. He described the country as being at a “sensitive moment”. He stressed the urgent need to heal divisions, confront hate speech, and guide Kenya towards sustainable peace ahead of the 2027 election. He called the Commission’s role “a sacred duty” and said simply that it was “about healing Kenya.”
The NCIC is now pushing political parties and candidates to formally commit to peaceful political competition. The proposed peace charter is intended to bind political actors to standards of conduct designed to prevent violence, hate speech, ethnic incitement and the mobilisation of criminal groups during the election cycle. The initiative comes as political parties increasingly organise themselves for the 2027 contest and as competing factions begin testing their strength through rallies and grassroots mobilisation.
The concern is that violence witnessed at political gatherings this year could become more frequent, and more organised, once the formal campaign period begins. The NCIC’s intervention is therefore aimed at moving prevention ahead of confrontation. Rather than waiting for violence to occur and then deploying security agencies, the Commission wants political actors to make commitments before tensions escalate. The proposal also points to a broader attempt to make political parties accountable for the conduct of their supporters and organisers.
Homa Bay has emerged as one of the clearest examples of how quickly political rivalry can descend into violence. The county has witnessed repeated concerns over the use of youths to disrupt political activities, and local administrators have openly warned politicians against recruiting and financing young people to intimidate opponents.
Homa Bay County Commissioner Ronald Mwiwawi has previously described the use of youths for political violence as a growing threat. “Political leaders should have followers, not groups of youths who threaten lives through violence,” he said in June. His warning came amid growing concern over what officials described as the recruitment and financing of youths to engage in violence.
The Deputy County Commissioner for Rachuonyo South, Sylvester Mwangulu, subsequently issued a further warning, saying security agencies would pursue both the gangs and those behind them. “The story of goons and illegal gangs must end,” he said.
The language from administrators is significant because it acknowledges a central feature of political violence in Kenya: the people throwing stones or blocking roads are often not the only actors involved. The question increasingly being asked is who recruits them, who finances them, and who protects them from arrest.
The Linda Mwananchi movement has become a particular target of alleged political violence. In July, a convoy associated with the movement was attacked at Keumbu in Kisii County, with vehicles vandalised and several people injured. Police subsequently summoned Nyaribari Chache MP Zaheer Jhanda for questioning and announced the arrest of additional suspects.
The incident was followed by renewed accusations that politically organised groups were being used to disrupt opposition activities. Reports from the ground suggest that suspected hired youths attacked a Linda Mwananchi rally at Keumbu while police officers were present, raising questions about whether security agencies had adequately protected the gathering. These allegations have been strongly contested in the political arena, and responsibility for individual acts of violence remains a matter for investigators and the courts to establish.
The incidents have nonetheless already had a political consequence: they have deepened fears that the 2027 contest could become increasingly physical as rival political formations attempt to control public spaces. The Linda Mwananchi movement itself has repeatedly condemned the use of violence.
Its aspirants’ caucus warned in July that political competition was being transformed into intimidation, and called on security agencies to investigate not only the individuals involved in attacks but also the alleged financiers and organisers behind them. “No ambition, no party, no seat, no handshake, no coalition, and no slogan is worth the life of a single Kenyan,” the caucus said.
While the NCIC is attempting to prevent political violence, a second and potentially equally damaging problem is emerging: declining public confidence in the country’s security leadership. On Monday, 17 August 2026, activists took their anger directly to Jogoo House in Nairobi, demanding the resignation of Inspector-General of Police Douglas Kanja.
The protesters accused the National Police Service of failing to protect Kenyans, citing allegations of police brutality, deaths in custody and reported abductions. At least six activists were arrested during the demonstration.
The demonstration was particularly dramatic: activist Julius Kamau chained himself to the gates of Jogoo House in an attempt to force the security establishment to confront the protesters’ grievances. Other protesters carried white coffins marked “Why kill Kenyans?”, turning the demonstration into a stark visual indictment of the country’s security establishment.
The protest was not simply about one police operation or one political incident. It reflected a wider frustration among sections of the public over the conduct of security agencies, particularly allegations that police have been too aggressive when dealing with protesters while failing to act decisively against politically connected groups accused of violence. That perception, whether ultimately justified in each case or not, is politically dangerous.
An election cannot be considered peaceful merely because voting takes place without widespread violence. Public confidence in the institutions responsible for protecting voters, candidates and political gatherings is equally important. The calls for Inspector-General Kanja’s resignation place the National Police Service in an uncomfortable position as the country moves towards a politically charged election.
The police will be expected to protect rallies involving competing political factions, enforce public-order laws without appearing partisan, investigate politically motivated violence, and prevent the recruitment of gangs. At the same time, officers will have to deal with demonstrations and political gatherings that may themselves become flashpoints.
The challenge is compounded by accusations from both sides of the political divide. Opposition-linked actors have accused the Government of tolerating or sponsoring political violence, while Government officials have repeatedly insisted that security agencies will pursue criminal groups and their sponsors. The credibility of the police response will therefore be crucial. If the public believes that police protect one political camp while suppressing another, every security operation risks becoming politically interpreted.
