This story has significance for readers across Kenya and beyond.
Kenya does not need another political monologue. There is a word in politics that deserves wider use: soliloquy. In theatre, it is when a character stands alone on stage and speaks his thoughts aloud, expecting no answer. In Kenyan politics, it is when leaders speak about the people without speaking to them. We have had too much of it.
To understand why, we need two thinkers who never met, who never thought they were writing about Kenya, but who explain our politics perfectly: Abraham Maslow and Baron de Montesquieu.
Abraham Maslow was an American psychologist, 1908-1970. In 1943, at the height of World War Two, he wrote A Theory of Human Motivation. He argued that human beings are not driven by one need, but by a hierarchy. First, physiological needs: food, water and shelter. Then safety: a job, health and security. Then belonging, esteem and, finally, self-fulfillment.
His political insight was simple: a starving man does not worry about status. You must answer the lower needs before you can credibly talk about the higher ones. Politics, therefore, must begin at the bottom of the pyramid.
Baron de Montesquieu was a French judge and political philosopher, 1689-1755. In 1748, he published The Spirit of the Laws, one of the most influential political books ever written. His central question was different: how do you stop power from destroying freedom?
His answer was separation of powers: divide law-making, execution and judging, allowing the executive, legislature and judiciary to check each other. Without such checks, even well-intentioned governments can abuse citizens.
His ideas shaped the American Constitution and modern constitutions, including Kenya’s 2010 Constitution. In short, Maslow asks what people need to live; Montesquieu asks how power can be restrained from denying them those needs.
One concerns human needs, the other power. A family starts with Maslow — is there food? Montesquieu asks whether institutions can protect it. Great leaders campaign in Maslow’s language and govern with Montesquieu’s tools.
Franklin Roosevelt did so in 1932, when the Great Depression left 25 per cent of Americans jobless, banks collapsing and families losing farms. While President Hoover spoke of sound money and balanced budgets, Roosevelt promised jobs, food and relief.
After winning, he used Montesquieu’s tools — creating the SEC, FDIC and Social Security Act — to protect those gains. Clement Attlee did the same in Britain in 1945. Winston Churchill was the greatest war hero in British history. But Britain in 1945 was not asking about Empire. Soldiers were coming home asking: where will we live? Where will we work? Who will treat my children? Attlee’s Labour manifesto, titled Let Us Face the Future, promised one million houses, full employment and a free National Health Service. Churchill spoke about the dangers of socialism and the Iron Curtain — a Montesquieu monologue. Attlee voiced Maslow and won. He then used Montesquieu to build the NHS and modern welfare state.
Deng Xiaoping did it in China after Mao. Mao’s politics had become a permanent ideological soliloquy — continuous revolution and class struggle. People were poor. Deng, himself purged twice, said: “It does not matter whether a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice.” And, “Poverty is not socialism. To be rich is glorious.” He did not ask farmers to debate communism. He asked whether their policies filled the stomach. He spoke Maslow — food, income and a moderately prosperous family. After winning the argument, he used Montesquieu — commercial laws, courts for investors and Special Economic Zones — to deliver it.
Lee Kuan Yew did it in Singapore from 1959. Singapore was a slum with no water, no jobs and racial riots. Other politicians spoke of Greater Malaysia and anti-colonialism. Lee spoke survival: I will give you a house with a toilet inside, not outside. I will bring factories. I will stop riots in your street. That was Maslow. Then he became the strictest Montesquieu man in Asia — he built the CPIB to jail the corrupt and courts that worked, to deliver that house and that job.
There is a warning for the opposition. Politicians who campaign only in Montesquieu can lose to those who speak Maslow, even when Maslow is later betrayed.
In 1988, Michael Dukakis ran for US president as the competent, rational manager. He was right on policy but had no kitchen language. George H.W. Bush spoke about values, security and identity, and beat him heavily. Voters do not reward you for being right. They reward you for making them feel heard.
Kenya saw this in 2022. Much of the opposition spoke of constitutionalism, institutional reform and anti-corruption. Legitimate concerns. But UDA spoke fertiliser, unga and milk prices. It turned economic pain into an identity.
The opposition must learn this without copying slogans. A mama mboga wants to know about her customers’ pockets. A dairy farmer wants to know who will buy his milk. A parent wants to know about school fees. A graduate wants to know about a job. If your answer to all of that is “the Constitution is under threat”, you may be right and still lose.
There is an equal warning for Ruto’s government. Maslow cannot be a con trick. After the election, slogans must become experience. You cannot permanently explain economic architecture to people asking whether they can afford food. Eventually, the ballot becomes an audit.
Kenya needs both. Maslow reminds us about fruit — human needs and dignity. Montesquieu reminds us about roots — institutions that restrain power.
Fruit without roots cannot survive the storm. Roots without fruit feed no one. Kenya does not need another political soliloquy. It needs a conversation. Speak simply. Listen seriously. Promise carefully. Deliver visibly.
Reporting originally appeared via Nation Africa. Read the full source for additional context.