By Robert Mutasi 
By any measure, Eldoret should be the last place in Kenya where a leader plays ethnic politics.
Yet last week, nominated Member of Parliament Joseph Wainaina Iraya stood in Ngeria, Kapseret — in the heart of Uasin Gishu — and is alleged to have told residents that Kikuyus who do not support President William Ruto and his United Democratic Alliance party should leave.
“Sisi jamii ya wakikuyu wenyewe hapa sisi dio tutapiga hao wakikuyu ambao hawataki William Ruto hapa waende,” he reportedly said, adding that they should “watangulie kwenda” and return after the political contest.
It is a statement so reckless that the National Cohesion and Integration Commission (NCIC) had no choice but to summon him. In a notice dated August 31, 2026 and signed by CEO Dr Daniel Mutegi Giti, the NCIC ordered Iraya to appear on September 17 at Britam Towers to answer to investigations under Sections 27, 29 and 63C of the National Cohesion and Integration Act.
The law will take its course. What must concern us more is what such utterances do to a town like Eldoret.
Eldoret is not just another town. It is Kenya’s wound and its miracle. In 2007-2008, Kiambaa, Burnt Forest, Langas and Yamumbi became global symbols of what happens when hate speech graduates into action. Houses were torched, neighbours turned on neighbours, and the city that had been a symbol of agricultural prosperity became a byword for ethnic cleansing. It took years of peace meetings, resettlement programs, and deliberate inter-community dialogue to stitch Uasin Gishu back together.
Today Eldoret is cosmopolitan, fragilely peaceful, and deeply interdependent. A Kikuyu trader in Kapsaret employs Nandi and Luo youth. A Kalenjin farmer in Moiben sells milk to a Kikuyu shopkeeper in Kiembeni. Students at Moi University and Eldoret University come from every county. To tell any group to “leave” because of their political choice is not just unconstitutional — it is to light a match next to a fuel depot.
That is how hate speech causes instability. First, it redefines political disagreement as ethnic betrayal. Iraya’s remarks do not say “those who disagree with UDA are wrong.” They say “those Kikuyus who disagree are traitors who must be purged by their own.” It creates an intra-ethnic policing that quickly spills into inter-ethnic tension.
Second, it gives violent license to the ground. When an MP says “sisi dio tutapiga,” even rhetorically, a boda boda youth in Kapseret hears permission. In Eldoret’s history, it is precisely these small permissions from leaders that have turned barazas into mobs.
Third, it destroys Eldoret’s economic confidence. Investors do not put up warehouses in industrial parks where leaders threaten evictions after every election. Farmers do not plant long-term crops when they fear they will be told to “tangulia kuenda” until 2027 passes. Peace in Uasin Gishu is not abstract — it is the price of unga, the rent in Annex, the school fees in Hill School.
Countrywide, the danger is bigger. We are 12 months to the 2027 General Election. The NCIC has already summoned former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua over similar remarks, and now Iraya. A pattern is emerging where politicians, lacking development records, return to the cheapest mobilization tool: fear. If we normalize telling Kenyans to leave parts of Kenya because of how they vote, we suspend Article 39 of the Constitution which guarantees freedom of movement and residence everywhere.
Hate speech does not cause war on the day it is spoken. It causes war by making war imaginable again. It makes a child in Kimumu ask his mother if they are safe. It makes a landlord in Outspan ask a tenant about his tribe.
Eldoret has healed, but the scar is still thin. The NCIC must not just summon Iraya; it must prosecute to conclusion. Political parties, including UDA which Iraya claims to defend, must publicly disown such remarks. And we as residents must reject the lie that loyalty to a president requires hatred of a neighbour.
The ballot is the weapon we have to end bad governance, as MP Maanzo said this week — not the eviction notice.
Eldoret Leo