The June 2024 Gen Z demonstrations will go down in Kenya’s history as one of the most significant protest movements organised by a new generation of young Kenyans. The demonstrations shook the political establishment, changed the national conversation and gave renewed political relevance to several leaders. It was a movement that resurrected some political careers, created new political voices and opened the door for Kenyans to demand a different kind of leadership.
Dr. Fred Matiang’i was among the political figures whose name was revived during this period. At the time, Matiang’i was working in the United States with the World Bank, but online calls for his return home grew louder as young Kenyans searched for leaders they believed could help transform the country into the Kenya they wanted. Matiang’i eventually responded to the calls and returned home, amid expectations that he would become one of the major figures capable of challenging President William Ruto in the 2027 political contest.
But politics has one unforgiving rule: before you impress the country, you must first be accepted at home. Matiang’i received what many regarded as a hero’s welcome in Kisii, with Governor Simba Arati playing a prominent role in his reception. For a moment, it appeared that the political mood in Kisii and the wider Gusii region had shifted decisively towards Matiang’i. However, political alliances are rarely permanent. The tune later changed, with Arati shifting his political direction and supporting William Ruto’s re-election bid.
Then came the rise of what became known as the four generals of Matiang’i. Kisii Senator Richard Onyonka, Kitutu Chache South MP Anthony Kibagendi, Kitutu Masaba MP Clive Gisairo and Bomachoge Chache MP Obadiah Barongo emerged as some of the most vocal political figures associated with the Matiang’i project. They became the visible political machinery of Matiang’i in Kisii and the wider Gusii region. At rallies and public meetings, they were often at the front, defending Matiang’i, mobilising residents and asking the people of the region to stand behind him. Their message was unmistakable: “Sisi ni Matiang’i.”
For a while, the arrangement appeared politically powerful. The generals had the platform, Matiang’i had the name and the grassroots appeared ready to listen. But the honeymoon eventually came to an end, and when it did, the relationship between Matiang’i and his four generals began facing its biggest political test.
The rise of Linda Mwananchi introduced a new dimension into the political equation. The generals increasingly found themselves in political spaces associated with Edwin Sifuna, and slowly the political language seemed to change. The once-familiar “Sisi ni Matiang’i” began competing with another message: “Sisi ni Sifuna.” That was the point at which the political road became slippery.
The generals did not necessarily need to publicly announce that they had abandoned Matiang’i. Political realignment does not always come through a declaration. Sometimes it happens gradually — through the rallies one attends, the politicians one stands beside, the names one repeatedly mentions and, perhaps most importantly, the name one stops mentioning. The shift became noticeable to a section of the grassroots, and questions began to emerge over where the four generals truly stood.
The people of Gusii were watching. Residents who had embraced the idea of “mtu wetu” becoming President began asking difficult questions. If these leaders were truly Matiang’i’s generals, where were they when Matiang’i needed political mobilisation? Why were they increasingly appearing in political spaces associated with another political figure? And if they still supported Matiang’i, what exactly were they doing to advance his political project?
The struggle intensified on social media. Long political posts were met with brutal replies, criticism and dismissal. Some explanations suggested that Matiang’i needed funding and a stronger political structure before he could fully engage in the political battle. But for sections of the grassroots, those explanations were no longer enough. They wanted to see action, not explanations. They wanted to know who was actually prepared to carry the Matiang’i banner when the political battle became difficult.
Then came the rise of “Sisi Ndiyo Matiang’i,” driven largely by young political aspirants in Kisii and Nyamira. This movement changed the political equation. Young aspirants were no longer interested in politicians simply declaring that they were on Matiang’i’s side. They wanted evidence. They wanted visible commitment. They wanted political leaders to demonstrate through their actions that they were genuinely working for Matiang’i.
The message became simple and powerful: do not tell us you support Matiang’i — show us what you are doing for Matiang’i. That was a direct challenge to the old political order and, at the same time, a challenge to the four generals who had once positioned themselves at the front of the Matiang’i movement.
Look at Borabu MP Patrick Osero. He has faced intense political pressure from the Linda Matiang'i movement, including scrutiny over development projects, political criticism and nicknames. The battle has been tough, and his experience demonstrates just how unforgiving the emerging political environment in Gusii has become. Political leaders can no longer assume that their positions will automatically protect them from grassroots scrutiny.
As the Linda Mwananchi rallies continue and the political struggle intensifies, Gusii leaders who aligned themselves with the movement are increasingly facing questions from the same residents whose support they once sought. The political ground has shifted, and the old formula of making political declarations and expecting automatic loyalty is being challenged.
The bigger question is no longer simply who attended which rally or who stood on which stage. The real question is whether political leaders can convince the people that their actions match their words. In the emerging Matiang’i political movement, saying “I support Matiang’i” is increasingly becoming insufficient. The grassroots want to know what a leader has actually done, what they are currently doing and what they are prepared to do next.
The rise of “Sisi Ndiyo Matiang’i” has therefore introduced a new force into the political equation. It represents a growing demand for political commitment beyond speeches, photographs, alliances and public appearances. It demands action, consistency and accountability.
For the four generals who once stood at the front of the Matiang’i movement, the political battle has therefore entered a completely different chapter. The very grassroots energy that helped elevate them can now demand answers from them. The people they once mobilised can question them. Young aspirants can challenge them. And the political audience that once cheered their speeches can now ask the most uncomfortable question of all: are you still fighting for Matiang’i, or have you already moved on?
That is the battle now unfolding in Gusii politics. It is no longer simply about who has the loudest voice or who can command the biggest crowd. It is about loyalty, political consistency and whether leaders are willing to stand by the causes they once championed. The political ground has shifted, the old alliances are being tested, and the men who once called themselves Matiang’i’s generals are now facing the ultimate political test — proving to the people that their words and their actions are still moving in the same direction.
