Skip to main content

Featured

How The Government of Kenya is Spying on Your Phone: An Urgent Exposé of State Surveillance

During the recent Gen Z-led protests that shook William Ruto personally and his administration to its very core, many Kenyans found themselves asking a chilling question: How did the police track them down so easily, even in the supposed safety of their homes? Scores of activists and protesters were abducted, many never to be seen again. Suspicion quickly fell on Safaricom and Kenya Power, accused of handing over personal information to a rogue state. But the truth may be even more disturbing—and far simpler than most would imagine... In a revelation that will shock every Kenyan, your private communications—phone calls, texts, and even your physical location—is being monitored without your knowledge. The Kenyan government has been accused of engaging in widespread surveillance of its citizens, using sophisticated tools provided by Israeli cyber-espionage firm Circles. This disturbing information was uncovered in a damning report by Citizen Lab, a digital rights watchdog based at the Un

"When Ruto Wanted Someone To Stand With Him, I Was There": Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua's Last-Ditch Effort To Save His Dead Career





In the political theatre of Kenya, loyalty serves as both a currency and a curse.

Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua's recent plea to Kenya Kwanza leaders to stand united behind President William Ruto is reminiscent of a tragicomedy, where the protagonist, once a staunch ally, finds himself relegated to the sidelines of irrelevance.

Gachagua's impassioned speech at Kipkok Primary School, Sigowet-Soin Constituency, on Saturday, reeks of desperation as he implores fellow leaders to abandon divisive politics and rally behind a leader who has already signalled his departure from past alliances.

As Ruto sets his sights on the 2027 elections with a bold declaration of choosing a female running mate, effectively signalling the end of his political partnership with Gachagua, one can't help but marvel at the irony of the situation. Here stands Gachagua, once a loyal foot soldier in Ruto's camp, now reduced to a mere footnote in the grand narrative of political manoeuvring.

The imagery of Gachagua's plea for unity juxtaposed with Ruto's announcement paints a vivid picture of a man clinging desperately to a sinking ship, oblivious to the cold reality of his imminent political demise. Like a jilted lover professing undying devotion to an unfaithful partner, Gachagua's words ring hollow in the ears of those who have already moved on to greener pastures.

But let's not dismiss Gachagua's plight entirely.

His journey from trusted confidant to political pariah is a cautionary tale for all aspiring power players in the Kenyan political landscape. Loyalty, it seems, is a double-edged sword, capable of propelling one to great heights or condemning them to obscurity with a single stroke of the pen.

As Gachagua finds himself sidelined by his erstwhile ally, the question on everyone's mind is: what now for the fallen son of Mau Mau? Will he fade into oblivion, relegated to the annals of political trivia? Or will he rise from the ashes, phoenix-like, to reclaim his rightful place in the halls of power?

Only time will tell.

But one thing is certain: in the cutthroat world of Kenyan politics, loyalty is a fleeting commodity, and those who fail to adapt are destined to be left behind. As Ruto charts a new course with a female running mate by his side, Gachagua serves as a living, walking, talking, breathing, and once-arrogant flitting-about-with-clipped-wings reminder for all those who dare to put their faith in the whims of political fortune.

Comments