The Muguka Debate: A Deeply Dangerous and Political Story

 

In the past, I've prided myself on having a keen sense for major stories before they break. Yet, when all four coastal counties suddenly aligned on the issue of Muguka, I failed to spot it. This uniformity should have raised suspicions, and I can't help but kick myself for missing the signs. But there's no time for regret; what we are witnessing with Muguka is one of the most perilous stories to emerge in Kenya this year. If those behind this agenda succeed, its consequences will affect the entire country—not just the coastal counties.

Before diving into the Muguka debate, let's revisit a story that continues to haunt the current administration. In August 2022, when many of us were preparing for a fair election, there was a covert plot to manipulate the results. Among the culprits was a foreigner, a Venezuelan named B. Kamango, who played a role in tipping the scale in favor of William Samoei Ruto. However, the true extent of this fraud has since become clear and has deeply upset many of those close to Ruto. Despite the narrative that Mount Kenya was overwhelmingly supportive of Ruto, the reality is far less flattering. Many in the region did not turn out to vote, and the low turnout left Ruto with a much smaller margin than was reported.

This frustration has led to infighting within the ruling party, as the true weight of the Mount Kenya vote has been called into question. Those involved in securing these votes are angry—not because they truly helped elect Ruto, but because others are now claiming credit for work they did not contribute to. This situation is a textbook case of how actions that are not thought through can return to haunt those responsible.

Now, let's talk about Muguka, which is also known as Mira (from Meru) or Moka (from Mombasa). The government and local politicians have made it their mission to ban the production and sale of this plant, which is harmful to health. However, as history has shown with other substances like alcohol, banning something only drives it underground, creating a black market. This is precisely what happened during America's Prohibition era, where the criminalization of alcohol led to the rise of organized crime, enriching criminals like Al Capone. If Kenya follows the same path, we could see similar outcomes.

The situation in Mombasa and surrounding areas is particularly concerning. After Mombasa's ban on Muguka, producers in Meru sought legal action and received an injunction, yet soon after, Kwale County imposed exorbitant new fees on Muguka transporters. How could such legislation move so quickly? It points to significant financial backing behind the initiative, with unknown but powerful forces pushing the agenda.

Behind this sudden push to outlaw Muguka, there seems to be a larger political and financial agenda at play. It's not just about health—it's about control, division, and creating chaos. The looming economic and political impact on coastal communities, where many depend on Muguka for their livelihood, is staggering.

While alcohol and Muguka both pose health risks, we must remember that banning substances does not resolve the underlying problems. History has taught us this lesson well. If we choose to ban Muguka, it will lead to unintended consequences, such as criminal activity and economic instability. The people driving this ban are very likely well aware of this, and in fact, they may be banking on it to further their own interests.

So who stands to benefit from the Muguka ban? Who is funding this movement? And what will be the ultimate political fallout? As always, it's crucial to look at the bigger picture, as the forces behind these changes may be manipulating events to serve a broader agenda.