Why Morara Kebaso walked away
NAIROBI, Kenya Aug 16 – Just a year ago, Morara Kebaso was one of the most recognizable faces of Kenya’s Gen Z revolution.
His fiery videos, bold speeches, and digital activism inspired thousands of young people to rise up and demand change.
Now, at just 29, he says he’s done with politics for good.
“I will not contest for political office in 2027. But I will vote if there is someone worth voting for,” Kebaso wrote on his X account on Friday..
It’s a surprising end to a political journey that once seemed unstoppable.
Kebaso rose to fame in mid-2024 during the youth-led protests against the Finance Bill.
His satirical online series, The Vampire Diaries, where he impersonated President William Ruto and exposed government failures, made him a viral sensation.
Young Kenyans, tired of broken promises and a crushing cost of living, rallied behind him.
He became the face of a new generation that believed keyboard warriors could become ballot winners.
In September 2024, he launched the National Justice, Economic and Civic Transformation (INJECT) Party.
By January 2025, he declared his intent to run for president in 2027, promising to fix corruption, support SMEs, and restore dignity in leadership.
“Our mission is to offer solutions, not just complain,” he told a cheering crowd at one rally.
On March 5, 2025, Kebaso joined forces with Wiper leader Kalonzo Musyoka and impeached former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua, forming a new opposition front.
He insisted that INJECT wasn’t just there to criticize, but to push forward policies rooted in youth empowerment and good governance.
His message was clear: it was time for young people to have a seat at the table.
But cracks appeared almost immediately.
By March 19, the INJECT party was already voicing frustrations with unnamed opposition leaders, hinting at betrayal and disillusionment.
And by May 20, Kebaso announced he was distancing himself from both government and opposition politics altogether.
“I’m working with neither side,” he posted bluntly, signaling the collapse of the short-lived alliance.
Politics proved far rougher than expected.
Kebaso faced tax probes, smear campaigns, and even physical attacks.
At one event in Bomas of Kenya, chaos erupted he was attacked, chairs flew, and he ended up in hospital.
He later described the experience as “a draining mix of tribal politics, ignorance, and toxic Gen Z radicalism.”
By June 2025, he had had enough.
“I’ve finally left politics. Now I can live my life… I’m free,” he posted.
Despite his massive online influence, INJECT failed to build significant grassroots support.
Rallies were often sparsely attended, and critics questioned whether online clout was enough to win real votes.
Kebaso’s exit has left many young Kenyans reflective and divided.
Some see his journey as proof that virality doesn’t translate to votes.
Others believe the system is simply too rigged for outsiders like him.
“He showed us what’s possible and what’s not,” one supporter posted.