Kenya’s 2027 Election: Time to Address the Warning Signs

On August 16, 2026, hundreds of people armed with machetes, guns, and sticks attacked a convoy carrying opposition politicians and supporters of the Linda Mwananchi movement in Homa Bay county, western Kenya. The attackers killed at least three people and beat and robbed journalists covering the violence. Witnesses said police officers were present but failed to contain the attacks. The incident was among a series of violent attacks targeting civil society events and opposition gatherings in the months leading up to Kenya’s August 10, 2027, general elections. At least six people have reportedly been killed and dozens injured in these attacks, raising serious concerns about the safety of political participation as the campaign season gathers pace.

I returned to Nairobi, Kenya’s capital, where my colleagues and I have been speaking with people from different walks of life to understand how they view the political and human rights environment ahead of the 2027 elections for president and the National Assembly. President William Ruto is expected to seek a second term, while opposition parties and candidates have already begun mobilizing supporters at rallies across the country.
One conversation, with a 28-year-old woman, stayed with me.
“I will not vote in next year’s elections.”
Her words were clear and definitive. I asked her why.
“It is always the same. Our votes do not change anything.”
Another young woman sitting nearby offered a different perspective. We need to look beyond elections, she said, and ask what elections are supposed to achieve: ensuring that every vote counts, that people can participate freely, and that everyone—including women—can participate without fear.
Our conversations revealed a growing sense of anxiety about the elections, and a troubling lack of confidence that the institutions responsible for protecting people’s rights will be able to prevent violence and ensure accountability.
First, there is a palpable fear that the 2027 elections could be violent. Several people we met—including civil society actors, opposition members, grassroots organizers, and youth mobilizers—pointed to recent violence at political rallies as early warning signs.
The violence in Homa Bay was repeatedly described as a turning point. For many, it signaled a deterioration in the political environment and raised concerns about what could lie ahead as campaigning intensifies.
Then there are the so-called “goons”—gangs, allegedly mobilized or paid by politicians to disrupt political rallies, intimidate opponents, and engage in violence. I repeatedly asked interlocutors how best to describe this phenomenon.
Some drew parallels with the Mungiki, an ethnic-based militia and criminal gang that has historically been mobilized for political violence and was entangled in Kenya’s electoral cycles. Opposition and civil society members described young people being mobilized or allegedly paid to disrupt rallies, intimidate political opponents, and influence political gatherings. Some alleged links to senior officials but provided no evidence. The consistency with which these allegations were raised points to a serious concern: the blurring of the lines between political violence, organized criminality, and the government security apparatus, underscoring the need for independent, impartial, and transparent investigations.
At the heart of these concerns is impunity. The lack of accountability for past abuses has left many questioning whether state institutions will protect them or hold those responsible for the abuse accountable.
Some people we met questioned the role of the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights. Young people expressed doubts about the effectiveness of its statements and said it should do more. When we raised these concerns with commissioners, they cited constraints including inadequate funding and other significant capacity and resource limitations.
People also raised concerns about the independence and effectiveness of other institutions responsible for protecting rights and ensuring electoral integrity, including the judiciary, the electoral commission and the Independent Policing Oversight Authority.

A young Gen Z leader described the contradiction between increased youth political engagement and growing fear. Despite young people mobilizing through protests and registering to vote, she told us: “We are all scared.”She referred to four people who were abducted in Eastleigh in 2025 and added: “We are worried and don’t know where to go.” Others, including a church leader, pointed to the repeated abductions and disappearancesof opposition figures, civil society activists, and government critics.
The threat extends beyond Kenya’s borders. On October 25, Tanzanian activist and human rights defender Twaha Salim Mwaipaya was reportedly abducted in Kamulu, Kenya, where he had sought refuge after reporting torture and threats linked to his activism in Tanzania. At the time of writing, his whereabouts remained unknown, raising concerns about the cross-border targeting of government critics and the risks facing activists seeking safety in neighboring countries. Such cases underscore the importance of ensuring that Kenya protects people at risk, regardless of their nationality, and does not become a place where those fleeing persecution are targeted again.
Taken together, these conversations point to a tangible sense of fear and, perhaps more worryingly, a growing conviction that violence is inevitable in 2027.
These fears are not without precedent. Human Rights Watch has documented electoral violence in Kenya for decades. Many of the patterns we have identified in previous elections are again visible: fears of voter suppression, the manipulation of ethnic divisions, inflammatory rhetoric by political leaders, and the lack of accountability for serious abuses.
Several people pointed to remarks made on August 21, 2026, by Interior Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen, who accused politicians of sending gangs to fight one another. “…they go and send goons to fight themselves and then want to make it a national crisis,” he said. Those interviewed viewed such remarks as contributing to an increasingly inflammatory political environment.
Civil society organizations and activists also described an increasingly difficult operating environment, marked by surveillance, arrests, intimidation, and disruptions of their activities. Government institutions responsible for human rights and election-related mechanisms, are operating with significant funding gaps, limiting their ability to respond to emerging abuses. They also raised concerns about civic participation and voter registration, including the risks of voter suppression and the manipulation or misuse of identification and election technology.
Several civil society representatives, echoing Human Rights Watch’s recommendations from previous elections, called for the early deployment and support of credible international and domestic election observers, closer scrutiny of the electoral commission and election technology, and strengthened human rights monitoring—particularly as donor support for civil society declines.
Stronger monitoring by the African Union, alongside closer coordination among international and regional electoral missions, will also be important to identify risks early and put mechanisms in place to prevent abuses.
Violence is not inevitable. Kenyan authorities and political leaders have a responsibility to prevent abuses, protect people’s rights, and ensure that those responsible for violence are held to account. Kenyans should not have to choose between voting and their safety. They should be able to participate freely, knowing that their vote matters and that institutions will protect their rights and hold abusers accountable.
Our conversations showed that key warning signs are already visible, well before the official campaign period. Attacks on opposition gatherings and civil society events, allegations of politically connected gangs, impunity for abuses, and declining confidence in public institutions are reinforcing one another. The fear expressed by the people we met is not simply anxiety about a future election; it reflects a loss of confidence in the institutions meant to guarantee their safety and political rights. Unless these patterns are addressed, the conditions that have marred previous elections risk taking hold again. Kenya’s authorities have time to act, but preventing another cycle of electoral violence will require more than public assurances: it will require credible investigations, accountability for abuses, and concrete measures to ensure that people can participate in the democratic process without fear.


