By Lynda Ouma

On April 8, 2026, Vihiga Senator Godfrey Osotsi was attacked at a restaurant in Kisumu after a group of young men confronted him over his political position. He was seriously injured and spent four days receiving treatment at Karen Hospital. Three suspects were later arrested and charged.

The incident was disturbing not only because of the violence, but because it raised a larger question: how organised are the networks that mobilise young people for political intimidation and violence?

That question is becoming increasingly important as Kenya approaches the 2027 General Election.

On August 10, 2026, government officials, security agencies, civil society organisations, researchers and other stakeholders met in Nairobi for a national dialogue on political goonism and hired violence. The discussions focused on the networks, drivers and structures that allow political violence to take root.

Missing Voices has also warned about the use of organised groups to intimidate opponents and disrupt public gatherings, calling for stronger accountability ahead of the 2027 elections.

But if Kenya is serious about preventing political violence, the conversation cannot end with the young people who appear at the scene.

We have to look further upstream.

Research under the Safer Eastlando, Braver Voices project offers an important perspective. Findings from research involving residents of Mathare and Kayole found that 63.6 per cent said they would feel safer over the next two years if concerns around youth employment and skills programmes were addressed. This compared with 51.1 per cent who cited a stronger police presence and 41.6 per cent who cited better police accountability.

That finding should make policymakers pause.

It does not mean unemployed young people are potential goons. They are not. Poverty does not excuse criminality, and unemployment does not make someone predisposed to violence.

It does, however, point to a vulnerability that politicians and criminal networks can exploit.

Where young people face unstable incomes, limited employment opportunities and uncertain futures, organised networks may find it easier to mobilise people for different purposes. The same networks that can bring people together for community activities, transport, sport or political meetings can, under the wrong circumstances, become channels for intimidation and violence.

That is why the response to political goonism cannot be policing alone.

Kenya needs to examine the ecosystem that makes hired violence possible.

Who recruits? Who organises? Who transports? Who pays? Who gives instructions? And, most importantly, who remains untouched when those at the bottom of the chain are arrested?

The Osotsi case illustrates the importance of asking those questions. While suspects were arrested and charged, the wider investigation must establish whether others were involved and, if so, what role they played.

This is where investigative capacity becomes critical.

If political violence is organised, investigations must go beyond the people caught at the scene. Where evidence establishes involvement, the law should reach those who organise, finance or facilitate criminal acts.

At the same time, Kenya must be careful not to criminalise legitimate youth mobilisation.

Young people have every right to organise, attend rallies, support candidates, participate in political parties and express their political views. Peaceful mobilisation is part of democracy.

The line is crossed when mobilisation becomes intimidation, assault, destruction of property or other criminal conduct.

That distinction must remain clear.

The state also has a responsibility to protect political actors across the political divide. A politician should be able to visit a restaurant, attend a rally or campaign in any part of the country without fearing that political disagreement will turn into physical violence.

The same protection must apply to ordinary citizens.

The August national dialogue on political goonism recognised the need to move from reacting to violence after it happens to preventing it before it happens. That requires better intelligence, early-warning systems, stronger coordination between institutions and accountability for those who organise or finance violence.

But prevention must also include opportunity.

The Mathare and Kayole findings provide an important reminder that security is not only about police numbers. People also feel safer when they have a realistic economic future.

Youth employment, skills development, enterprise support and access to legitimate economic opportunities should therefore be considered part of Kenya’s long-term violence-prevention strategy.

As the country moves towards 2027, politicians also have a responsibility to lower the temperature.

Winning an election should never require intimidating an opponent. Supporting a political party should never require attacking someone who supports another. Political differences should never become a licence for violence.

Kenya has experienced the consequences of political violence before. We know the human and economic cost.

The 2027 elections offer an opportunity to do things differently.

That means investing in young people before political campaigns intensify, strengthening institutions before violence occurs and following the money when evidence points to organised criminal activity.

Most importantly, it means refusing to normalise violence as part of political mobilisation.

The young person recruited into a violent crowd may be the most visible face of political goonism. But the accountability challenge lies deeper.

Kenya must stop asking only who threw the punch.

We must also ask who organised the crowd, who financed the operation and who expected to benefit from the violence.

If the country can answer those questions — and act on the evidence — it will take an important step towards making the 2027 elections safer, more peaceful and more democratic.

Lynda Ouma, Communication and Knowledge Management, Centre for Human Rights and Policy Studies