From broad-based to united opposition: How young women are shaping the 2027 General Election

On June 25, 2024, Kenya’s streets became a battleground. Young people poured out of their homes, their universities and their uncertainties, and walked straight into tear gas, rubber bullets and, for some, death. The Finance Bill protests shook the country and, for a few electrifying days, gave it back to its youth.

What stood out that day, and in the days that followed, was not just the sheer number of young people who showed up, but the women who led the charge. They were at the front, inhaling tear gas and confronting police, on their phones organising, on social media rallying their peers to stay the course, and in front of cameras speaking truth to power.

Two years on, the conditions that produced 2024 have not gone away, and the calibre of young women who stood at the forefront of the demonstrations is not done. They have simply changed tack, organising differently, strategising behind the scenes and, increasingly, stepping directly into formal politics.

Now, with less than a year to the 2027 General Election, a new wave of young women is rising across the political spectrum, building their own platforms, speaking in their own voices and daring to imagine a Kenya where they are not just voters but decision-makers.

They are also paying a price. Online violence, body shaming, sexual harassment, threats and the constant, corrosive assumption that their success must have come through sexual favours: these are some of the taxes young women in politics pay simply for showing up. The Nation spoke with three of them, from different political outfits, to understand what their roles are.

Charity is 24, a trained high school teacher, and the national youth chair of the Linda Mwananchi movement. She is also, by her own admission, among the most vocal young women on social media when it comes to holding the government accountable.

Like many of her peers, she started as a professional. She taught for a year, then quit at the beginning of this year. “I was hired by the government as an intern teacher, with a promise of employment confirmation after one year. During this time, I was earning Sh20,000 before tax. When the year ended, the government extended the internship to two years, and I felt this was not right. It felt like we were being lied to and manipulated. So I quit. They should have communicated that the internship was going to last two years from the onset,” she says.

Her political activism began in earnest during the 2024 protests, when a video she recorded went viral, and everything changed. “I started political activism on social media during the 2024 Maandamano,” she says, “although politics has been within me all along. Even in primary school, I was the one who came up with this system of president, deputy president, head girl, head boy, and in high school, I was a prefect. Politics has just been within me.”

Asked what drew her to Linda Mwananchi over other political outfits, she speaks of the movement’s leaders including Nairobi Senator Edwin Sifuna, who she says has always been consistent in standing for the people.

“Even when his boss, the late Raila Odinga, was alive, he would stand up to him and say, ‘I’ve drafted this MoU’—referencing the agreement between the United Democratic Alliance and the Orange Democratic Movement—’but I’ll just sit back with the marking scheme and check whether they will go against what we have agreed. If they do, just know they have broken the MoU,’” she says.

She cites the movement’s recognition of young people. “I believe we are the only one with the biggest number of young people backing us; in Linda Mwananchi, young people are given a platform to be heard and to be seen.”

Her role as national youth chair is twofold: creating visibility, both online and offline, and urging young people to join political parties. She believes that joining political parties is a crucial step in ensuring the youth voice is heard. “I don’t even think they need a voice, because we are many. But yeah, I represent the young people there.”

What does she hope to achieve? Change, she says—an end to the rotten political culture Kenya has developed. “Tribal politics, for instance. I honestly don’t understand why a leader can be bashed and not voted in because they’re not from a certain tribe. We need to get to a point in this country where a serving politician should not need to campaign. Your work should campaign for you.”

She aspires to an elective position in Nakuru County in future, though not in 2027. For now, her focus is on building the movement and ensuring young people are registered and engaged. The challenges she faces are familiar.

“People will look at you and think you’ve gotten there because you gave sexual favours,” she says. “They’ll see you with a politician, and the first thing they’ll think is that she has done this. That’s something I feel should end, because either way, sex is a two-way thing. You can’t have sex alone. I don’t get why it’s always women being blamed.”

Then there are the threats. “Dealing with a leadership that doesn’t take correction positively has not been easy. I fear for my life at times. When our movement toured Homa Bay, I skipped the rally because I had received threats. Your parents and family members get worried, and sometimes you just opt out.”

What keeps her going? Hope. “The fact that I have hope, and that I’m optimistic change can happen. I’m optimistic we can get to a point as a country where leadership positions and appointments are given on meritocracy, not corruption. We’ve seen other countries do it. I believe it’s doable.”

When Roseline, now 25, graduated from Machakos University in 2023 with a first-class honours in Business Studies, she did what any sensible graduate would do: She found a teaching job. She volunteered at a national school, was absorbed on Board of Management (BoM) terms, and settled into what she thought would be her career.

Then retrenchment came. When schools could no longer afford to pay BoM teachers, Alionya found herself out of work. Around the same time, the Gen Z protests were heating up, and she was vocal in them, appearing on media stations to speak her mind. But that visibility left her with a choice to make, as she could not go back to searching for teaching jobs with that kind of a record.

“It was difficult being so opinionated and also going to school,” she says. “Learners would be like, ‘We saw you on TV.’ At that time, we were saying, ‘Ruto must go’—this was before the broad-based formation. When they wanted to raise a concern, they wanted to do it the way I was doing it. It was conflicting.”

Her journey into formal politics, however, began years earlier, in 2019, when she joined ODM as a member of the Young Captains. “At that time, we were just university girls trying to have a moment with Baba,” she says, referring to former ODM leader Raila Odinga.

But it was the ideology that drew her in. “For the longest time, Baba had made the ODM look like that party that fights for the common man, for the downtrodden. Everyone associates ODM with human rights activism and democracy.”

Today, she is the chairperson of the ODM Young Captains, a position that puts her at the centre of the party’s youth mobilisation efforts. Her role, as she sees it, is to communicate the benefits of the broad-based government arrangement to ordinary Kenyans and encourage voter turnout in 2027.

“One of the benefits that the broad-based government has achieved is development,” she explains. “Baba, for many years, fought for democracy, something that we enjoy to date. The other thing people should be fighting for is economic liberation. This can only happen through infrastructural development that will attract investors, and President William Ruto is well on course with this.”

She points to newly built roads and modernised airports as evidence of tangible progress. “My greatest role is communicating. I appear on media stations a lot to convince, to give my perspective, and then it is up to the people to see—‘Is Alionya saying the truth? Is Alionya lying?’—because they can see electricity at home, they can see the roads going to their villages.”

But being a young woman in politics has not been easy. She speaks about the challenges with a matter-of-factness that suggests she has come to expect them. Online violence tops the list. “In this country, after President Ruto, I think I am the most insulted human being on social media,” she says with a wry laugh. “Coordinated trolling, body shaming, sexual comments and fake information on social media have greatly affected me negatively.”

Then there is sexism, and the assumption that a young woman’s success must have come through sexual favours. “People were just looking at you as a sexual tool,” she says. “It now calls on the integrity of someone to ensure that they rise above such things.”

There is also political violence and intimidation, the goons that every politician seems to have, the threats. And financial barriers, too—people assume she has millions because she walks with party heavyweights, but the reality is far different. And perhaps most insidiously, there is party gatekeeping. “Someone thinks, if I allow Alionya into this room, probably she will displace me, or she will take my position, or she will outsmart me.”

She has learned to cope, and credits a tough childhood and campus politics—which she describes as “the most violent types of politics”—for giving her thick skin. “Nowadays, if I find someone trolling me on their blog, I ask myself, do you know them? Are they better than you? No, because I have never seen someone richer than me abusing me on social media.”

Her proudest moment came when a video she recorded, encouraging young people to join political parties, caught the attention of Baba himself. He called her, and they spoke for nine minutes. He told her that young people will always do things without reverse gear—even if they meet a wall, they still want to go through it. It was inspiring, she says. Plans were made for her to meet him in person, but, unfortunately, he died before that dream came true. “God had other plans,” she says.

Her daily call to young people is to register as voters and aspire to replace the leaders they complain about. “Nobody is going to elect you because you are young. People are going to elect you because of the manifestos you give to them, because of the leadership character you have shown while living in that community.”

Wanjiku brings a different kind of experience to the political arena. A communication and governance practitioner, she holds a background in Sociology and Communication from the University of Nairobi, a Master of Development Communication from Daystar University, and a Women in Leadership certificate from the Business University of Luxembourg. She is also a fellow of several international leadership fellowships.

Over the years, she has worked in youth leadership, governance, civic engagement and political organising, and is the founder of Gears for Change Initiative, a civic organisation that champions youth leadership, women’s political participation, social accountability and good governance. Her work continues to revolve around leadership development, advocacy and political mobilisation.

For her, politics is not separate from her professional life. “My work has always been centred on empowering communities, especially young people and women,” she says. “Balancing both requires discipline, good planning and a committed team. I intentionally create time for policy work, community engagement and political organising, because I believe leadership should be informed by real experiences on the ground.”

Her journey into political activism began while she was at university, through student leadership and civic engagement initiatives. She became concerned that young people were being left out of decisions that affected their lives. She realised that many of the challenges affecting her generation—unemployment, exclusion, inequality and poor governance—could only be addressed if young people actively participated in politics rather than remaining spectators.

Why the Democracy for the Citizens Party (DCP), and not any other outfit? “I joined DCP because I believe it presents an opportunity to build a people-centred political movement anchored on constitutionalism, accountability and inclusive leadership,” she explains. “I was drawn by its commitment to giving young people and women meaningful leadership opportunities, instead of treating them as campaign tools.”

She serves as the party’s national youth leader, a role that involves organising, mobilising and mentoring young people, strengthening the party’s youth structures, recruiting members, and ensuring the voices of young people influence the party’s policies and political direction. Her endgame is bigger than holding political office. “I want to contribute to building a generation of ethical, competent and courageous young leaders who believe in service rather than self-interest,” she says.

“I hope to help shape a political culture where leadership is based on integrity, ideas and accountability. If, in the process, I inspire more young women to believe they belong in leadership, then I will consider it a significant achievement.”

Like Charity and Roseline, Wanjiku has encountered significant challenges. “Politics remains a difficult space for young women,” she says. “I’ve experienced intimidation, online attacks, misinformation and attempts to undermine my leadership, simply because I chose to take up space. There are also financial barriers, gender stereotypes, and the expectation that women should remain silent or play supporting roles. Despite these challenges, they have strengthened my resolve and reinforced why more women must participate in politics.”

What keeps her going is the belief that Kenya deserves better leadership. “Every time I interact with young people eager to contribute but lack opportunities, I am reminded why this work matters. I also draw strength from the women who broke barriers before us. Their courage inspires me to keep pushing for a more inclusive political future.”

Cyberbullying has become an unfortunate reality for her too. “I have faced personal attacks, misinformation and harassment online. I have learned not to internalise every negative comment. Instead, I focus on constructive engagement, rely on supportive networks, report abusive content where necessary, and remain committed to the issues that matter. Ultimately, my work should speak louder than the noise.”

Asked about young women’s role in shaping the 2027 General Election, Wanjiku is clear: “Young women will be central to shaping the 2027 election, not only as voters but also as candidates, campaign strategists, mobilisers, policy influencers and election observers. They bring fresh perspectives, innovative leadership and a deep understanding of the issues affecting communities. My message to young women is simple: do not wait for permission to lead. Register as voters, participate in political parties, seek elective positions, and influence the national conversation. Kenya’s future cannot be built without the leadership of young women.”

While the three represent a new generation of young women stepping into political spaces, the broader context for women in Kenyan politics remains challenging. Political analyst Javas Bigambo offers a sobering assessment of the landscape women face.

“Kenya has come far in creating an enabling political environment that encourages, or favours, women to enthusiastically venture into elective politics, or even merely participate in political talk,” he says. “Women in Kenya remain conscious of the pain and challenges that await them in the political cosmos, should they wade into it. Their talents and abilities remain largely untested.”

He points to the structural barriers that have historically kept women on the periphery. “Elective politics are a slippery path for many women in Kenya, owing to scales of violence at times unleashed during campaigns, hefty nomination fees and expensive campaigns, whose cost implications remain prohibitive, not just to women, but to younger leaders as well.”

He is careful to note that this is not because they are afraid of democracy. “It is not that women in Kenya are ‘democraphobic’, but they have generally, mostly, yielded to the strains of political challenges.”

The evidence of this marginalisation, Javas argues, is visible in the highest offices. “The evidence of women remaining in peripheral politics is what highlights why Kenya has never had a woman president or deputy president, while neighbouring countries like Tanzania, Uganda, South Sudan and South Africa have beaten Kenya to it.”

He emphasises that the importance of women in politics is unquestionable. “They should not be subjected to political tokenism of positions, or enticed merely as icing on the cake of leadership.”

He, however, says little has changed within political parties. “Sadly, the rules of the game have not changed. Political parties are still the vicious playgrounds of the moneyed, and mostly, the comfortable place for men.”

He adds that most political parties are not driving their politics based on issues, but on slogans, tribal groupings and regional identities. “It is through this prism that it is difficult to see how differently politics will play out for women in the 2027 General Election. So far, no woman is seriously running for president; few are making impactful stabs at the gubernatorial seats, no serious Senate bids, and most are nearly content to go for the woman representative seat.”

Javas’ analysis provides a critical backdrop to the stories of women like Charity, Roseline and Wanjiku. They are attempting to break through a system that has historically excluded women from the centres of power. Their visibility, willingness to speak out, and determination to organise, both online and offline, represent a challenge to the status quo that Javas describes.

Yet the question remains: Will the system change enough to accommodate them? Or will they, like so many women before them, find themselves confined to the margins, their talents and abilities left largely untested?