Governor Kahiga's art is talking too much and spewing nonsense

There's an African proverb that goes, “He who talks too much, talks nonsense.” Governor Mutahi Kahiga of Nyeri seems to have taken that as a personal challenge and perfected it. 

In the past few days, Kenya has been treated to an extraordinary performance in insensitivity, courtesy of a man who appears to believe microphones were invented to save him from the tragedy of silence. 

The ancestors warned us: we were given two ears and one mouth so we can listen twice as much as we speak. But Kahiga has inverted that divine formula, talking like airtime is expiring and wisdom is a subscription he forgot to renew. 

At face value, Kahiga could pass for a respectable teacher, a man of letters, even. But recent events remind us that eloquence and empathy rarely share the same postal address. 

And so, in the midst of national mourning following Raila Odinga's death, the governor decided that grief was a fine opportunity to test his verbal diarrhoea in public once again.  

Governor Kahiga, as many recall, ascended to office in 2017 after the tragic death of Governor Wahome Gakuru. Yes, the same death that, by sheer misfortune, paved his path to power. 

So when news broke that he had mocked the death of Kenya’s long-serving opposition leader and national icon, Kenyans were rightly aghast.

It seems, in Kahiga’s curious worldview, death must happen for him to benefit. 

Speaking in vernacular at a funeral in Nyeri, where ordinary people gathered to mourn, Kahiga declared  that Raila’s death had “freed government resources  which had been directed to Raila's strognghold.”

He said the government had previously directed development goodies to Nyanza because of President William Ruto’s working relationship with Raila, but that “God came and brought this thing” to end the imbalance.

“So now people have been told to go back to the drawing board because the plan was probably to throw us out. But who is God? Does he take ugali at somebody’s house or sleep in Kayole? He came through in his own way. He saw people in heaven were disagreeing a lot and came for Baba so that he could smooth things up there.”

Yes, dear reader. According to Governor Kahiga, God, celestial economist, heavenly budget controller, and part-time political strategist, personally adjusted Kenya’s development plan by “collecting” Raila Odinga.

It takes a special kind of tone-deafness to find joy in another man’s death. It takes spiritual poverty to turn it into a punchline.

Kahiga’s speech was the kind of thing even clever schoolchildren would find too stupid to repeat. 

This is not new behaviour. In 2024, inside a church, Kahiga proudly told the congregation, “Sometimes I wonder why we denied Raila Amolo Odinga the votes.” Then, as if his jokes hadn’t already died on arrival, he added, “At least the Kikuyu community has been vindicated — we can work with anybody.”

The congregation didn’t know whether to laugh, clap, or call ushers to remove the microphone. His humour is the type that lands with a thud, the comedic equivalent of knocking on a coffin during a requiem mass.

One wonders if he keeps a list of funerals where he can test his latest stand-up material.

Even his face seems to conspire with his tongue perpetually frozen between confusion and conviction.

Kahiga could easily feature in The Wrong Turn movie series without needing makeup.

But behind that grin, it seems, was a man eager to dance on another’s grave.

When the public backlash boiled over, Kahiga reached for the Kenyan politician’s favourite emergency kit: apologise, blame “context,” and resign from something.

He stepped down as vice-chairperson of the Council of Governors (CoG), saying, “I am taking responsibility and resigning with immediate effect.”

He then offered an apology that was longer than the list of things he should have kept to himself.

“I want to sincerely apologise to our mourning nation, to the family of the former Prime Minister Raila Odinga, Mama Ida, her children Rosemary, Junior, and Winnie, Senator Oburu Oginga, Ruth Odinga, the Luo nation, the ODM fraternity, and Kenyans at large…”

Then came the classic twist: “The clip was taken out of context.”

Apparently, when he said “God came and brought this thing,” he meant “we must rethink development priorities.”

Sure. And when someone says, “I’m not shouting,” they’re obviously whispering.

It’s not his first apology, either. In February 2025,  he was forced to say sorry to the Maasai community after making tribal remarks at another funeral in Laikipia. One might conclude that microphones at funerals bring out his inner chaos.

His communications team must live on painkillers, each public appearance a fresh cardiac event waiting to happen.

But beyond the laughter and memes, there’s something deeply tragic about this pattern. To mock the dead is not just foolish; it is cursed. In African culture, the dead are honoured, even those we disagreed with. We pour libation, not laughter.

To reduce Raila's death to a cheap tribal scorecard is the height of moral bankruptcy. Governor Kahiga, if the urge to speak overwhelms you again, do yourself a favour: look in the mirror first. You might just scare yourself back into silence.