Government Using Bloggers: Let Kenyans Ask the Right Questions

My first corporate client back in 2008 when I started my business was a parastatal. My second, third and fourth corporate clients around 2009-2012 were government institutions. In 2020 during CORVID, I got 10,000 bob from the government as part of the corona money for artists and creatives-we were many who got those mpesas. That one came through because I belong to the Photographers Association of Kenya.

The only time I have travelled out of Africa, so far, was courtesy of the State Dept of Culture, through the Kenya Cultural Centre. I was in Serbia/Belgrade for a whole week, all paid for an African Art Festival. Soon after that, Former CS Ababu had some tu-mpesa sent and a small award for my contribution in Kenya’s Creative Industry. Many leaders in the creative space got a little money, and a trophy. We miss him. 

Forget Who Got Paid. Who Approved It?

Over the past couple of weeks, our timelines have been full of one story: popular Kenyan influencers, reportedly paid to talk up government projects. Roads, markets, bridges, the kind of things you can stand next to and film. The opinions have been loud, and mostly about the same thing: who took the money, and whether they should be ashamed.

 Today a growing share of that communication travels through other people's voices. A creator with a few hundred thousand followers has something no ministry or bank can build quickly, which is an audience that actually listens.

I understand the anger. But I keep wondering if we are arguing about the wrong thing.

I have spent more than two decades in this industry. I started with print and desktop publishing, then came websites, social media, smartphones, digital video and now AI. Every few years the way organisations talk to people changes, and every time the same pattern repeats. The tool arrives, people start using it, and the rules show up much later, usually after something has gone wrong. Influencers working with the government is simply the newest chapter.

Here is what I mean. For a long time, an organisation spoke through its own channels: the newsletter, the billboard, the website, the press conference. It owned them, it approved what went on them, and someone could be held responsible. Today a growing share of that communication travels through other people's voices. A creator with a few hundred thousand followers has something no ministry or bank can build quickly, which is an audience that actually listens. So institutions rent it. Governments do, banks do, telcos do, NGOs do. It would be naive to pretend otherwise.

Jeff Koinange Live hosted Abel Mutua, Eric Omondi and Sirkal on a very interesting discussion on the topic, bringing to the fore some eye-opening insights from some of the top digital influencers in Kenya.

That is why, for me, the professional question is not whether an influencer was paid. Paid communication has always existed. We call it advertising and nobody blushes. What I want to know is this. Did anyone choose that person deliberately? Was there a proper contract? Was the audience told? Who checked the facts? Did anyone measure what happened afterwards? If the honest answer to most of those is "not really", then we do not have a scandal about influencers. We have a gap in how institutions run communication.

What I want to know is this. Did anyone choose that person deliberately? Was there a proper contract? Was the audience told? Who checked the facts?

Disclosure is where it gets personal for me. A paid post that says it is paid is simply communication. A paid post dressed up as a spontaneous opinion borrows trust the audience never agreed to lend. That trust belongs to the creator, and a little of it gets spent with every post. I have watched people and brands burn through their credibility very quickly, and I have rarely seen it come back.

If I were a communication head in a ministry, a county government or a company right now, I would not be defending or condemning anyone. I would be quietly asking my own team some uncomfortable questions. Who are we working with? Who approved them? What did we ask them to say? Would we be comfortable if our audience saw the contract?

Dialogues with Jagero hosted Aaron Cheruiyot, in what some perceive as one of many fronts the Government is using to communicate to certain audiences and with clarity. Some even took a jibe at Jagero with his yellow tie as a subliminal message.

If I were a creator, paid or not, I would ask what my audience really follows me for, and whether any single contract is worth more than that. And for the rest of us, a small suggestion before you share or get angry. Check who benefits, whether it is labelled, and whether you can verify the claim yourself. A bridge can be visited. Affordable Housing in Garissa can become a reel. But a talking point cannot.

This is why I keep saying that influence is now part of the communication system. Once it is inside the system, it needs governance like every other channel: rules, accountability, and a name on the decision. Not to silence anyone, but so that the next time this story comes around, we are having a better conversation than who to blame.