How Ruto's betrayal of Gen Z shattered Kenya's hope for unity

It started with a tax — and ended with a funeral.

When President William Ruto forced the 2024/2025 Finance Bill through Parliament despite growing public opposition, he did more than raise taxes — he ignited Kenya’s most intense youth-led protests in decades.

The backlash has rattled his administration and exposed deep national rifts, seen through a rebelling church, Gen Z, a section of politicians, and professionals following high taxes coupled with the high cost of living.

What started as outrage over levies on essentials like bread, nappies, and digital services quickly morphed into a decentralised, tech-fuelled revolt led by Generation Z. Their voices strongly echoed through protest songs, “one-term” chants — implying Ruto would not earn re-election — and cries of “Ruto must go” that have rippled through football matches, classrooms, weddings, and even bars, where, as the saying goes, “drunks don’t lie.”

“Siku za mwizi ni Wantam (One term),” read one viral flier. Another: “Fight corruption, not activists.”

This leaderless, fiercely independent movement has surged across cities and villages alike — organising in churches, markets, and campuses — demanding not just economic relief, but accountability, justice, and structural reforms, which critics of the Kenya Kwanza administration believe Ruto is not ready to initiate, since the status quo favours him.

“Why would politicians hire criminals to disrupt peaceful protests?” asked activist Boniface Mwangi. “We are going to the streets to honour our fallen comrades and demand justice.”

The critics believe the 58-year-old president responded to the protests as a career politician, not a reformer. Instead of seizing the moment to recalibrate, he dug in — resorting to repression and tone-deaf politics that alienated a restless generation.

At first, the protests appeared to be another tax revolt. But this one was different. It had no political party, no central leader, and no ethnic base. TikTok Lives, X threads, and Instagram reels became the front line of a digital uprising.

“Our anger isn’t just about taxes,” said Amina, a university student during a TV interview, adding, “It’s about years of being ignored. We were promised change. What we got was betrayal.”

Ruto’s initial response was defiant and dared lawmakers to vote against the bill and warned of consequences.

“I have heard some people say they are waiting to see MPs who will vote for the Bill to pass,” Ruto said moments before the bill was voted in Parliament. “But I am also waiting to see the MPs who will vote against a Finance Bill that creates jobs and affordable housing. We’re watching.”

On 25 June, Parliament passed the bill — the same day protesters stormed the chambers in scenes of unprecedented fury. Police opened fire, killing more than 15 people. The images of bloodied bodies outside Parliament further radicalised the movement and plunged the nation into mourning. And since then, Ruto's relationship with youths has not been good.

"We covered the heroes (dead bodies) with flags. They will always remain in our hearts and souls," a protester told an international media station.

For a president who came to power promising to uplift the poor through his “hustler” platform, the moment marked a turning point. Rather than engage with the discontent, the state cracked down. Police used live bullets and tear gas. Activists were abducted in unmarked vehicles.

The Kenya National Commission on Human Rights (KNCHR) recorded 71 abductions in four months of protests, many by masked men in unmarked cars. The government claims all were released, but families say their loved ones are still missing.

Amnesty International Kenya Executive Director Irungu Houghton said the crackdown extended beyond the streets.

“The government’s response included abductions, arrests, account suspensions, and threats,” he said. “Online dissent was met with physical violence.”

This wave of repression evoked memories of Kenya’s darkest chapters, but Gen Z documented every assault, livestreaming beatings and arrests as the internet became both armour and weapon.

Ruto’s silence during the crackdown left many furious. When he finally apologised in May — admitting “mistakes were made” — few were moved.

“He only apologised because we’re now voters,” a protester told a local TV station. “Where was he when our friends were dying?”

This wasn’t a rally. It was a mass movement without a face. Hashtags, memes, and music fuelled its spread. Cabinet reshuffles and political co-optation — tools Ruto had long used — failed to stem the tide.

“They thought we wanted a seat at the table,” the protester added. “We want the whole table rebuilt.”

Efforts to involve churches and civil society in mediation collapsed, with church leaders accusing the government of corruption, excessive taxation, and a crumbling healthcare system.

“We’ve issued statements before with little government response,” the Kenya Conference of Catholic Bishops (KCCB) said. “There is deep anxiety. People are losing trust.”

Ruto urged clergy and citizens to “stick to the facts.”
“If we are not careful,” he said, “we can become victims of the very things we accuse others of.”

But Gen Z refused government dialogue, citing bad faith and betrayal.

As the protests surged, Ruto was often abroad — at climate forums, investor meetings, and diplomatic summits. Many saw it as abandonment.

“We saw him in Paris and New York while our friends were bleeding,” said Vanessa on TikTok. “He chose applause abroad over justice at home.”

This disconnect only deepened the resentment. Critics said it confirmed what many feared — that Ruto cared more about global prestige than domestic unrest.

"Even if a cockroach wins the election, Ruto must hand over power," Busia Senator Okiya Omtatah said.

Further fuelling the fury were reports that the Indian conglomerate Adani Group was in talks to take over critical infrastructure — airports, highways, even ports — via opaque Public-Private Partnerships. For many youth, this signalled betrayal.

Nelson Amenya, the Adani deal whistleblower, said that taxes were going up so that those in government could steal more.

"After seeing my fellow Kenyans dying on the street, I thought, ‘If these people paid the ultimate price, the least I could do is expose this'," Nelson Amenya said.

The backlash intensified after revelations that Treasury officials had quietly travelled abroad to meet Adani executives, even as protests raged and youth died in the streets.

The movement has redrawn Kenya’s political map. Ruto’s approval ratings have plunged. Former strongholds in Mt. Kenya and Rift Valley have gone silent. Some MPs are distancing themselves while others have warned that his re-election chances are going down each day.

Former LSK president Nelson Havi wrote: “President Ruto, some of us want you to succeed, but the people around you are wrecking your presidency. We are disappointed.”

Ironically, the crackdown politicised Gen Z. Not through parties, but pain. They are now leading voter registration drives, organising legal aid, and turning online activism into real-world action. The so-called “keyboard warriors” are redefining civic engagement.

Ruto entered office vowing to fight corruption, lift the poor, and unite the country. But in failing to hear a restless generation, he may have inflicted lasting damage.

As “Ruto Must Go” chants echo from Nairobi’s CBD to rural towns, something fundamental has shifted. The youth have found their voice. Whether Ruto finds the humility to listen remains to be seen.

Amnesty International emphasised that force must be a last resort to protect life — not a means of suppression.

“The police failed to stop agitators — armed with batons, tyre whips, and knives — from attacking peaceful protesters,” Amnesty said. “Evidence shows police officers escorted and aided them. Some agitators paraded below the Nairobi Governor’s office, boasting of their day’s work.”

The violence prompted rare unity: condemnation from activists, opposition leaders, churches, diplomats, and citizens. A day later, Nairobi’s Governor and Police Commander issued statements reaffirming the right to protest on 25 June — the anniversary of the deadly crackdown. The National Police Service pledged security for future demonstrations.

But Nandi Senator Kiprotich Cherargei insisted protest organisers be held accountable for any destruction or deaths — and called for the deregistration of NGOs he claimed were “fanning instability.”
“State House is a protected area. Demonstrators must respect that,” he said.

Lawyer Willis Otieno challenged Cherargei’s stance.
“Who defines what’s peaceful — the state that sends goons?” he asked. “You can’t weaponise Article 37. You want to deregister NGOs while ignoring politicians who fund chaos? That’s textbook authoritarianism.”

He added: “These leaders want Marcos’s opulence, Mobutu’s grip, and Machiavelli’s cunning — but none of the scrutiny. They treat questioning as a crime and expect silence. But we owe them nothing — except resistance.”

As of yesterday, Kenyans marked one year since the deadly June 25 protest, with fresh vigils and online tributes reigniting the call for justice and reform.