The battle for Mbeere North has entered a fever pitch, and if Pauline Njoroge’s latest salvo is anything to go by, the by-election has now become a national spectacle — a hot, chaotic contest where money, power, and political futures are colliding in full public view.
In her blistering statement, Njoroge paints the Kenya Kwanza administration not as a confident government defending its record, but as a regime spiraling into panic. She says it is “astonishing and frankly embarrassing” that three years into power, the government “has nothing to show on the ground,” and has instead fallen back to its old habit — “raining handouts like confetti.”
Her words sting, but the scenes unfolding in Mbeere North make them even more potent.
According to Njoroge, over KSh 300 million of taxpayers’ money has already been pumped into the by-election, turning remote villages into stages for what she calls “a relay of shame.” She describes a bizarre choreography: Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua storms into a centre, fires up the crowd and leaves, only for a Cabinet Secretary to arrive moments later in a convoy of fuel-guzzling luxury vehicles, flanked by a column of police officers. The new arrival then begins handing out KSh 500 notes to villagers — a ritual she says has been repeated in Kanyuambora, in Kavugua, and in several unnamed shopping centres as election day draws closer.
Yet, beneath the drama, there is a deeper political story unfolding — one with national implications.
The Mbeere North by-election has attracted the full weight of Kenya’s political class because the seat, though small, has become a symbolic battleground for 2027. The opposition has rallied behind Newton “Karish” Kariuki, a seasoned former MCA whose candidacy was unveiled by former Speaker Justin Muturi. Karish is not running alone; he is the product of an unprecedented cooperation between opposition-leaning parties. Even DCP, the party associated with Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua, pulled its candidate from the race and quietly aligned behind him, signalling a coordinated effort to test whether unity can defeat state muscle.
On the other side stands Leonard “Leo” Muriuki, the UDA candidate whose entry into the race followed days of delicate internal negotiations. Eight UDA aspirants were persuaded to step down in favour of Leo, and once the party settled on him, the full government machinery swung into motion. Senior Kenya Kwanza figures — from Cabinet Secretaries to regional political kingpins — have since turned Mbeere North into an open-air campaign camp, determined not to lose ground in Embu County.
As convoys roar through dusty roads and crowds gather in shopping centres, the by-election has begun to resemble a miniature general election — complete with propaganda battles, cash standoffs, grassroots mobilisation, and a level of political tension rarely witnessed in a constituency vote.
For Pauline Njoroge, the meaning of this moment is clear: the government is terrified of losing. In her telling, Kenya Kwanza is “pouring stolen billions” into a constituency where, she claims, the opposition candidate is already comfortably ahead. She says the ruling side is convinced that if they scatter enough loose notes into the crowd, the electorate will wobble, the opposition will panic, and the tide will somehow turn in their favour.
But she insists the ground is unmoved.
“The people are firmly with us,” she says. “They honestly believe they can buy confusion, shake resolve, and reverse the tide with loose notes?”
Her final warning — “Hawa wataona cha mtema kuni. Ni wakati wa kufunga hizo viosks zao tukiendanga” — is not just a threat to her opponents. It is a declaration that Mbeere North has become a battlefield far larger than its borders.
And indeed, the stakes stretch well beyond the constituency.
If the opposition’s Karish wins, it will be a political earthquake — proof that a united opposition can withstand state intimidation and even overcome the flood of money. It would boost opposition morale nationwide and hint at vulnerability within the Kenya Kwanza political machine.
If UDA’s Leo prevails, the government will interpret it as a reaffirmation of its dominance in Embu and the larger Mount Kenya region. It would validate the administration’s narrative of development and silence critics who say the ground has shifted.
For now, Mbeere North remains on edge — its dusty roads crowded with convoys, its markets buzzing with political talk, its voters pulled between promises, pressure, and principle. As the countdown to polling day accelerates, it is increasingly clear that this is no ordinary by-election.
It is a rehearsal for 2027.
A test of political machinery.
A referendum on handout politics.
And, as Pauline Njoroge sharply framed it, a battle between state power and the people’s resolve.
