Rigathi Gachagua’s impeachment sent shockwaves across the country—not because it happened, but because of who delivered the final blow: his own people. His MP. His Senator. His political backyard.
The very leaders he once campaigned with, laughed with, and claimed to defend in the name of “Mt. Kenya unity.” So, what went wrong?
The truth is, Gachagua was not removed by political enemies. He was impeached by allies who watched him squander power, insult colleagues, bully public servants, and turn Mt. Kenya into a personal political bunker.
While he saw himself as a regional general, his style was anything but diplomatic. Loud, combative, and unapologetically tribal, Gachagua burned bridges faster than he built them.
During his time as Deputy President, he made headlines not for delivering development, but for issuing ultimatums and attacking government policies he was supposed to support. He forgot the simple rule of power—lead with service, not arrogance.
His fellow leaders grew tired of the endless drama, the public outbursts, and the personal wars he waged, even against the President who helped get him elected.
Then came the corruption allegations—billions of shillings in unexplained wealth, abuse of office, and allegations of interfering with independent institutions. His own constituents began to whisper: maybe he’s more interested in power than progress. And when the impeachment motion landed in Parliament, even those closest to him chose silence—or worse, support for his removal.
Today, Gachagua plays the victim. He blames betrayal. He cries foul. But behind the noise is a man furious not because he was wronged, but because he lost power. His bitterness is not a symbol of injustice—it’s the final chapter of a man who mistook noise for leadership and loyalty for blind obedience.
In the end, Gachagua wasn’t betrayed by friends. He was abandoned by those who finally saw through the façade
