TukTuk Coalition: Fast, Flashy — and Headed for a Crash?

In the rustling forest of Kenya’s political landscape, a familiar hum begins to rise — not the steady drum of progress, but the rattling engine of a new coalition TukTuk, ready to roar downhill toward 2027. The forest stirs with excitement. Animals glance up from their burrows. Birds fall silent in mid-song. A promise has been made: this time, it will be different.

At the center of this growing spectacle is a charismatic figure — ambitious, articulate, and full of urgency. Like the hare in Pinocchio Kombamwiko’s parable, this would-be driver steps up with silver words and swagger. He points to the TukTuk — rickety but shiny with fresh paint — and makes his pitch: “Why walk? Why crawl? Why sweat under the weight of slow reform? Climb aboard. With me at the wheel, we’ll descend like kings.”

And many do.

There’s the stoic rhino, cautious but strong — trusted for her sense of justice and steadiness. She climbs in, unsure but unwilling to be left behind.
The tortoise, experienced and slow-moving, offers history and patience. He hesitates but joins, remembering past walks that led nowhere.
The warthog, weary and wounded from previous elections, nods quietly and boards — more out of hope than belief.
And finally, the bushbaby — wide-eyed and brimming with energy. Young, idealistic, and excited by the promise of something new. They cling to the TukTuk’s frame, eager to feel the wind.

With the engine groaning and the passengers huddled inside, the journey begins.

The Descent Begins

At first, it’s electrifying.

The TukTuk picks up speed. The crowd around cheers. Dust rises behind them like fireworks. The driver — confident, waving — howls in joy. “We are coming!” he shouts.

But something is off. The vehicle jerks with every bump. The wheels rattle. The road narrows. The ancient bearings begin to groan.

Still, the driver speeds up.

“Faster!” he cries. “We can win this race!”

But speed without direction is chaos. And soon, the turn comes — sharp, sudden, and unforgiving.

The Crash

It happens in a blink.

The TukTuk lurches. Screeches. Tilts. Then tumbles.

The rhino slams into the side, deep scrapes tearing into her hide.
The tortoise flips over, his shell cracked along the middle.
The warthog grunts in pain, tusks chipped.
The bushbaby — small and light — is thrown into the underbrush, one arm twisted unnaturally.
The driver himself is flung into a patch of ferns, dazed and dirtied, ears drooping.

All around, silence settles. The kind of silence that follows shock. Dust hovers in golden shafts. Dreams, like the shattered TukTuk, lie scattered on the path.

The Lesson: Speed Is a Tool, Not a Destination

When the hare rises, guilt crashing down harder than the fall, he sees not anger in the others’ eyes — but profound disappointment. The worst kind. The kind that says, “We trusted you. And you broke us.”

The tortoise, wounded but wise, delivers the truth:

“Speed is a tool, not a destination. And trust is the most fragile cargo of all. Easier shattered than carried safely home.”

This — not the fall, not the wounds — is the moment of clarity.

Kenya’s Coalition Moment

This parable may be fiction, but its truth echoes loudly in Kenya today.

Every election season, the forest hums with the same tune: unity, power-sharing, change, “not like last time.” A few new faces appear. Some old ones return. They form vehicles — coalitions — patched together with ambition and urgency.

But here’s the problem: the vehicles often aren’t ready. And the drivers? Too eager. Too loud. Too focused on the destination to notice the danger signs on the road.

Coalitions crash not because the idea is bad — but because execution is rushed, roles are unclear, egos are unchecked, and vision is absent.

When a coalition forms around one man’s ambition rather than a shared mission, it turns from a movement into a vehicle of self-interest. And when that vehicle is shaky — held together by convenience rather than conviction — everyone inside risks injury.

The Real Cargo: Trust

In Kombamwiko’s story, the most delicate passenger is not the rhino or the tortoise — it’s trust.

Trust is what makes people vote. Trust is what makes partners commit. Trust is what gives coalitions power beyond numbers.

And trust is exactly what’s lost when a coalition crashes due to speed, arrogance, or poor planning.

Young voters — the bushbabies of this tale — are especially vulnerable. Every time they board a new coalition with hope, only to be flung out and abandoned, they grow more cynical. More silent. Or worse, more apathetic.