In a dramatic turn of events that has left many Kenyans scratching their heads and some feeling a sense of deja vu, activist Morara Kebaso has announced his retirement from politics. The bombshell declaration, made on X (formerly Twitter) on Monday, June 23, comes barely weeks after he enthusiastically unveiled his official manifesto, leading to a collective "jokes on us" sentiment from a public that had, in part, invested hope in his nascent political career.
Morara Kebaso, an enigmatic figure who has consistently managed to be both fervently liked and vehemently loathed online, hinted that his decision to quit his relatively new political journey was largely driven by the incessant criticism he faced. "I’ve finally left politics. Now I can live my life, run my business, make my money, travel the world, see my friends, and visit a bar without worrying about being photographed. I’m free,” Morara declared in his post, painting a picture of liberation from the perceived shackles of public life.
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In a subsequent social media tirade, Morara further elaborated on the pressures he experienced. He claimed he was frequently misquoted by the media and lived with constant anxiety about his personal safety due to his burgeoning status as a new political figure. "Nobody can judge me for dancing the ‘wrong’ way or smiling the ‘wrong’ way. I don’t need security. I can drive myself. I no longer have to show up for TV interviews only to be misquoted," he lamented, seemingly highlighting the stifling scrutiny that comes with political aspirations.
Morara first burst onto the national scene in mid-2024, riding the wave of the anti-Finance Bill protests. He quickly distinguished himself by pioneering a unique and engaging form of government accountability. Dressed in distinct Kaunda suits, often mimicking President William Ruto’s mannerisms, he embarked on a nationwide tour, meticulously exposing a litany of stalled government projects that dated back even to the era of former President Uhuru Kenyatta. His "Vampire Diaries" exposés, as they became known, resonated deeply with a public frustrated by unfulfilled promises and misappropriated funds.
Morara's nationwide tour was funded almost entirely by contributions from the very members of the public who appreciated his audacious efforts. This grassroots support propelled him into the national conversation, even catching the attention of State House, which responded through spokesman Hussein Mohammed. Mohammed, while defending project delays, clarified that some of the projects highlighted by Morara had seen their contracts terminated or re-tendered. Regardless, Morara had successfully forced the government to address questions of accountability. Amidst this groundswell of national conversation, many began to view Morara as a nascent leader of the burgeoning Gen-Z movement, a fresh voice challenging the old political guard.
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However, the journey to national stardom was not without its significant setbacks and, crucially, its controversies, which slowly but surely eroded his initial "noble image." One of the most visible incidents occurred when he was assaulted at the Bomas of Kenya while attending a public participation exercise on the impeachment of former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua. Such physical threats underscored the dangers inherent in his chosen path.
More damaging, perhaps, were the cracks that began to appear in his carefully cultivated persona. His credibility took a hit when it emerged that the government was reportedly pursuing him over unpaid taxes. This raised questions about his own adherence to the very principles of accountability he championed. Furthermore, he continually "tempted fate" online by consistently soliciting financial support from his online supporters. While initially viewed as transparent fundraising for his activism, this practice gradually attracted more scrutiny, with some critics labeling him a "glorified conman" or questioning the transparency of his financial management.
His credibility suffered a more significant blow in March 2025 when he declared that his newly registered political party, the Injection of National Justice, Economic and Civic Transformation (INJECT) Party, had joined the opposition coalition. This move, while seemingly strategic, was met with skepticism by some who questioned the swift alignment. The final straw for many, perhaps, came in April, when a photograph surfaced showing the activist alongside figures linked to the Kenya Kwanza government. This image sparked widespread online debate and accusations that Morara was, in fact, a state-backed 'project'—a devastating label in a political landscape where independent voices are highly valued.
Morara Kebaso's abrupt exit from politics, barely weeks after launching a manifesto, is a telling reflection of the brutal realities of Kenya's political arena. It highlights the immense pressure, intense scrutiny, and the often-unforgiving nature of public life. While he may claim liberation, his departure leaves a void and raises critical questions about the sustainability of youth-led political movements in Kenya and whether genuine, independent activism can truly survive the pressures and pitfalls of formal politics. Was he indeed a "project" all along, or simply a young idealist overwhelmed by the system? Kenyans are left to ponder, and perhaps, look for the next unlikely hero.
