NAIROBI — President William Ruto promised Kenyans a fresh start. A former chicken seller turned political heavyweight, he styled himself as a “hustler” — one of the people. His rise stirred hope among millions struggling to survive.

Now, barely two years into his presidency, Ruto is facing a wave of public anger that some observers say is unlike anything seen in Kenya’s modern history.

“Why the contempt and arrogance?” the president asked openly during a speech this week. “Why wasn’t this kind of chaos directed at Moi, or Kibaki, or Uhuru?”

It was not a rhetorical flourish. It was a sign of growing unease at the top.

A Presidency in Freefall

The protests against Ruto’s government have crossed class, tribal and religious lines — a rare convergence in Kenya’s fractured political landscape. The frustration is not just visible. It’s deadly.

Since June last year, more than 100 people have been killed in anti-government protests. Thirty-eight of them died just this Monday — the worst single day of unrest in recent memory.

The anger is mostly youth-led and decentralised, fuelled by discontent over rising taxes, spiralling living costs, and a president many believe has broken his promises.

“He promised change,” said Dr Hesbon Owilla, a political communications expert. “Real, tangible change. Kenyans are still waiting.”

The 'One-Term President' Chants

Ruto's slogan of bottom-up economics once resonated in Kenya’s towns and slums. His humble background — working barefoot on farms, hawking chickens — was part of his appeal.

But that image has crumbled. Today, social media is awash with hashtags like #RutoMustGo and #RutoOneTerm. In one viral video, protesters chant, “We are all Kikuyus,” referencing Kenya’s largest ethnic group — a jab at politicians who try to divide by tribe.

Ethnicity has long shaped Kenyan politics. But this time, many young people are rejecting it.

“This isn’t about tribe,” said analyst Mark Bichachi. “This is a generation tired of lies.”

Even so, tensions remain high within Mount Kenya, the heartland of the Kikuyu community that helped Ruto win in 2022. After his deputy, Rigathi Gachagua — a Kikuyu — was sidelined through what many viewed as a humiliating political process, mistrust deepened.

A Changed Protest Landscape

The movement taking shape is markedly different from previous waves of unrest. In the 1980s and ‘90s, opposition to Daniel arap Moi was often rooted in elite or activist circles, and came with enormous risk.

Today, protests begin with a tweet and can mobilise thousands within hours.

“What’s different now is the speed and scale of information,” said Dr Njoki Wamai, a political scientist. “Social media is a megaphone. The youth are plugged in.”

Yet Dr Wamai is careful to note that past presidents also faced intense backlash. After the 1982 coup attempt, Moi’s grip on power came under severe threat. Jomo Kenyatta and Mwai Kibaki, too, faced deep criticism in moments of crisis.

“But with Ruto,” she said, “the disillusionment came fast — and it’s being amplified in real-time.”

Promises Made, Pain Felt

At the centre of the storm is a gnawing sense of betrayal.

Ruto’s flagship policies — including a 1.5% housing levy and 2.75% health tax — have hit workers hard. Public services haven’t improved in step with the deductions. Petrol, food, and electricity prices continue to rise.

“I work harder and bring home less,” said Mercy Mwende, a Nairobi shopkeeper. “Where’s the bottom-up economy we were promised?”

President Ruto insists his government is laying the foundation for lasting progress. He points to a new housing initiative, digital job creation, and overseas work placement schemes. He’s also promoted universal health care as a game-changer.

“This problem didn’t start with me,” he said on a recent site visit. “But we are the first government taking it head-on.”

Still, for many Kenyans, the results feel slow and the pain immediate.

When Words Wound

The president’s critics say his style is making things worse.

After ordering police to shoot looters in the legs — rather than kill them — his comments were met with outrage and mockery. Rights groups say the statement only emboldened security forces already accused of brutality.

More than 100 people have died in protests over the past year. Human rights organisations accuse the police of excessive force, extrajudicial killings, and illegal detentions. The government, meanwhile, blames protesters for the violence, even accusing them of attempting a coup.

“What we’re seeing,” said Owilla, “is that the public doesn’t just feel let down. They feel insulted.”

He believes Ruto speaks too often and too personally — making every crisis about himself.

“In previous governments, when things went wrong, people blamed the system,” he said. “Now, they blame Ruto.”

From Applause to Alienation

Ruto’s fall from grace has been swift. He was once seen as the outsider who could upend a corrupt, dynastic system. Now he’s perceived as its newest face.

“This is probably the most intense outrage we’ve seen against any Kenyan regime,” said Bichachi. “Not even Moi, with all his brutality, faced this level of unified defiance.”

Still, not all is lost. Experts agree that some of Ruto’s reforms — particularly in health and housing — may bear fruit over time. But that assumes time is a luxury the president still has.

As the streets fill and hashtags trend, Ruto’s greatest test may not be policy. It may be reconnecting with a public that feels forgotten.

“This is not just political disappointment,” said Wamai. “This is personal.”