Why impeachment proceedings must always consider public interest

In what could pass for the proverbial ‘theatre of the absurd’, the country was recently treated to a circus in the lead-up to, during and after the impeachment proceedings involving Kericho Governor Eric Mutai. It all began on the floor of the County Assembly in Kericho. Sobriety was suspended for pandemonium. Blows were exchanged. And a few (dis)Honourable Members of the August House ended up with injuries necessitating hospitalisation. In the end, an arguably flawed process had culminated into a second impeachment of the governor in under two years.

The chaotic scenes we witnessed in the Kericho County Assembly Members' (MCAs) latest failed attempt at impeachment of Mr Mutai aren't unique to the county, however. Lately, similar events have been reported—to the shock and consternation of devolution exponents—in Kirinyaga, Meru, Machakos and Nairobi counties, to name but a few. And the seeming lack of proficiency in English—or even Kiswahili—among some MCAs in Kericho—and elsewhere around the country—only adds to the disaffection of watchers with devolution as a governance concept only 15 years into the new Constitutional dispensation.

There is, clearly, a leadership crisis within the county governance structure as typified by the juvenile theatrics that almost always mar ‘differences’ between the Legislature and the Executive within the various devolved units. In most cases, the so-called MCAs seem clueless about—if not ill-equipped for—their oversight role. Many seem uncannily inclined to violence. And the fact that hardly a year goes by without our MCAs—in processes dominated by accusations, counter-accusations, violence, destruction and bodily harm—getting into impeachment-oriented political slugfests with governors is, perhaps, symptomatic of a long-deferred invitation to national discourse on pre-election, candidate-focused scrutiny of credentials.

The stakes couldn't be higher for the people, both as the ‘donors’ of the powers that elected representatives wield and taxpayers. As the people, we ought to always show serious concern about corruption allegations involving both the governors and, possibly, MCAs if we are to get value for commitment to revenue generation, especially.

The Samaritan, a play by John Lara, is a perfect, theatrical exploration of governance dilemmas in jurisdictions experimenting with devolution. Mayor Mossi is stalked by a whiff of scandal (read corruption), but his councillors are no better either. They plot to impeach him. But they are just as sleaze-tainted. The play is set in the Caribbean. But the events and characters are universally relatable.

As Kenyans, we must begin to have a candid, high-stakes conversation about the goings-on within our governance structures both at the national and county levels: Are the allegations made by our MCAs in furtherance of impeachment aims against the governors always evidence-backed? Could greed, or even vendetta-fuelled malice, be a factor (sometimes)? In the drama in which MCAs make ill-starred attempts to impeach governors, what's the price paid by the people? In Kericho, for instance, the governor's woes could be far from over. Could arbitration be a better, less costly way to resolve inter-branch dissonance issues within county governments?

Mutai, a literature don, succeeded Paul Chepkwony, also a professor, in office. This is, perhaps, proof that the voters in the region prize profession-level competence. But do education-credentialed leaders equal sanity? During the recent impeachment trial of Mutai in the Senate, an MCA requested permission to address the House in his vernacular tongue. That would surely make the late Ngugi wa Thiong'o proud. But might the seeming desire to promote local languages belie a woeful, dangerous skills deficiency?

It is safe to assume that the Kericho County Assembly conducts its business in the Kipsigis dialect. And social media was, perhaps rightly, awash with memes to the effect that the county is a ‘no-English zone’. Does the constitutional stipulation that some 30 per cent of the county staff membership be accounted for by ‘outsiders’ also help raise the competence stakes?

The Kericho County leadership is not alone in the game of adversarial, confrontational politics. Squabbles are an almost inherent concomitant of our governance experiment. Evidence shows, however, that most of the impeachment proceedings—and outcomes thereof—have thus far yet to translate into better governance, or even representation, for the people.

As a young democracy, it's time we figured out ways to divorce governance and oversight roles from mere politics; separate action aimed at enforcing accountability from self-seeking, bile-inspired mock-scrutiny; and, perhaps, learn some vital governance lessons from our ‘constitutional prototype’ (read the US) on state-level impeachment wisdom.

Governors must be made to account for how they run things, yes. And MCAs ought to be able to do their oversight job as co-representatives of the people (sometimes alongside senators). But all three—governors, MCAs and senators—work, and must work, only for the people.