The argument that Luhyias and Luos are genetically predestined to resist power and is intellectually provocative, but it rests on a few assumptions that deserve serious interrogation.

First, the framing that Molima (central Kenya) and Rift Valley or Kikuyus and Kalenjins are “trained to access power” while Luhyas and Luos are “trained to resist power” oversimplifies history. It is a fallacy!

Political culture is not genetic or tribal curriculum. It is shaped by historical exclusion, state violence, elite bargains and economic geography. The resistance tradition among Luos, for example, traces back to figures like Jaramogi Oginga Odinga who opposed one-party consolidation under Jomo Kenyatta not because he didn’t understand power. Jaramogi disagreed with how it was being structured. That legacy became moral capital – whether one agrees with it or not.

Second, the argument that William Ruto and Uhuru Kenyatta (as Kalenjin and Kikuyu who have tasted and excised power) is partly correct but incomplete. Yes, they mastered proximity to power. But proximity to power in Kenya has historically depended on access to state patronage networks, capital accumulation pipelines and security establishment alignment – advantages not evenly distributed across regions. What you call “training” may actually be structural advantage reinforced over decades.

Third, the equation economic muscle with political sustainability. True, money builds structure. But structure without legitimacy collapses too. Kenya has seen heavily funded political machines lose when public mood shifts. Money can mobilise. It cannot manufacture consent indefinitely.

Fourth, resistance politics is not inherently inferior strategy. It has historically produced reforms. The push for multiparty democracy, constitutional reforms and devolution in Kenya did not come from those comfortably inside power. It came from opposition pressure. Even the 2010 Constitution owes much too long-term agitation – much of it led by figures like Marin Shikuku, Masinde Muliiro, Raila Odinga, James Orengo, Georg Kapten, Prof Anyang Nyong’o and civil society movements.

The real weakness is not “romanticising resistance.” It is failing to convert resistance into institutions. That is an elite failure, not a community flaw. When leaders fail to institutionalise economic networks, party discipline, think tanks, cooperative capital pools, and succession planning, movements remain personality-driven.

If communities internalise the belief that the only path to power is to always align with the sitting government, they risk normalising patronage politics and weakening democratic competition. Access without accountability produces extraction, not production in the form of empowerment.

The deeper question is not whether to resist or align. It is:

Can political mobilisation be tied to sustainable economic ecosystems?

Can communities build independent capital without relying on state patronage?

Can leaders negotiate entry into power without surrendering bargaining leverage?

Power is not just money + people. It is: Money + people + institutions + narrative + timing.

Without institutions, money evaporates. Without narrative legitimacy, people drift. Without timing, strategy stalls.

So the problem is not that Luhyas and Luos resist power. The problem is that resistance has often not been converted into durable institutional leverage. And that requires long-term economic thinking, disciplined coalition building, and generational strategy – not just election-cycle excitement.

The critique on Luhyia and Luo perceived resistance raises a valid strategic concern. But it must avoid slipping into fatalism or romanticising patronage as the only viable political pathway.

The real uncomfortable truth may be this:

Communities do not lack access to power. They lack elite consensus on how to institutionalise it beyond individuals. That is a leadership design problem – not a cultural or genetic defect.

ODM’s current turmoil exposes a hard political truth: the Orange Democratic Movement was deeply personalised around Raila Amolo Odinga. When a party’s identity fuses with one towering figure, succession inevitably triggers turbulence.

The emerging rift – between leaders engaging President William Ruto and purists like Edwin Sifuna – is less about personalities and more about defining ODM’s soul: opposition watchdog or pragmatic power participant?

In my view, this is not necessarily ODM’s tragic end. It is a stress test. If the party institutionalises beyond personality and clarifies its ideological direction, it could re-emerge stronger. If not, fragmentation will persist – and Kenyan politics will once again revolve around shifting elite alliances rather than coherent democratic ideals.