NAIROBI, Kenya — The fiery protests of GenZ youth may have slowed down, but in their wake, a new kind of activism has emerged in Kenya—one that is creative, fearless, and unexpectedly funny.
At the heart of this movement is Morara Kebaso, a lawyer turned activist, who has become a thorn in the side of President William Ruto’s Kenya Kwanza administration.
Kebaso isn’t your average protester. He’s not throwing rocks or facing down riot police in the streets.
Instead, he’s taken a different route—one that involves fueling up his car and crisscrossing the country to expose the glaring gaps between government promises and reality.
What makes him truly stand out, however, is his method: he mimics the President’s style in a satirical display that has captured the hearts and minds of Kenyans everywhere.
Helmet on, reflector jacket zipped up, and with a confident stride, Kebaso arrives at the sites of projects that were once the subject of grand presidential fanfare.
He inspects them with the same seriousness as a government official, yet what he finds is often nothing more than abandoned dreams.
Take, for example, the university project launched in Kajiado by the President. What was once touted as a major milestone for the region now lies in ruins.
The fence is gone, stolen by thieves, and the commemorative stone marking the launch is vandalized.
There’s no construction, no workers, no progress. Just a barren field of broken promises. For Kebaso, this is more than just a failed project—it’s a symbol of the deceit that plagues Kenyan governance.
And he doesn’t stop there. Armed with the Auditor General’s reports, Kebaso breaks down complex financial statements and exposes corruption in terms that the everyday Kenyan can understand.
His civic education, delivered with biting humor and a touch of satire, has not only uncovered rot within the government but has also made him a beloved figure in the country.
This unique approach has elevated Kebaso from a simple critic to a powerful voice of accountability.
He’s taken what many see as a dry and technical subject—government audits and infrastructure reports—and transformed them into viral moments that resonate with ordinary Kenyans.
But his work doesn’t end with exposing failed projects. When he’s not on the road, Kebaso is found delivering impromptu speeches in matatus (public transport vehicles), urging passengers to demand better governance.
His speeches, captured on video and shared widely on social media, are a mix of passion, education, and wit. His message is clear: the Kenyan people deserve better, and it’s up to them to hold their leaders accountable.
Morara’s activism is fueled by the grim reality that traditional protests in Kenya often lead to violence and death.
Over 50 lives were lost during the GenZ protests that rocked the country earlier this year.
Hundreds more were injured—youths who had peacefully gathered to demand change were met with a brutal crackdown by the state.
Abductions, beatings, tear gas, and bullets became the language of suppression.
For many, the sight of friends and fellow protesters being gunned down or dragged away was enough to silence their dissent.
The streets grew quieter, but the anger remained. Kebaso saw an opportunity in this silence—not to retreat, but to find a new way forward.
“We are living a lie,” he says in one of his viral videos, “We have young people in government but are doing nothing because corruption doesn’t know age. What we need in Kenya is not young people but people of integrity. We can have young people but are corrupt.”
It’s working. Morara’s approach has inspired dozens of young Kenyans to join his cause.
Armed with smartphones and social media accounts, these youths have begun to expose the dilapidated state of roads, schools, and hospitals in their communities.
They document the failure of government projects with the same sharp eye and humor that Kebaso has mastered. And like him, they’re using their platforms to demand better from their leaders.
In a country where the cost of speaking truth to power can be devastating, observers say Kebaso is proving that activism doesn’t always have to be met with violence.
Sometimes, it just takes one person with a keen eye, a sharp tongue, and a sense of humor to expose the cracks in the system.
For now, Morara’s movement is growing, slowly but surely.
With every new video, every exposed project, and every impromptu speech, he is building an army of truth-tellers who are tired of broken promises and ready to fight for a better Kenya—not wit h rocks and fire, but with words and accountability.
The streets may have grown quiet, but thanks to Kebaso, the fight for justice is far from over, human rights activist Martin Waigwa told Y News.
It has simply found a new battleground, he argued, one where the truth can’t be silenced, and where humor is the sharpest weapon of all.
