As drums rolled and cadets marched with precision at the Kenya Military Academy in Lanet, a troubling dissonance echoed beyond the parade square — the widening gap between the show of discipline and the actual state of the country’s military equipment and supplies.
Even as President William Ruto presided over the colorful graduation ceremony of over 400 cadets, the air was thick with concern over Kenya’s military preparedness and the increasingly politicized role of top security chiefs.
President Ruto used the occasion not just to celebrate the newly commissioned officers, but to issue a firm warning to politicians and the media over what he termed as “reckless attempts to undermine” the country’s security leadership.
His remarks came amid growing national anxiety over the outdated state of military gear, inconsistent supplies to security forces, and a disturbing trend of security bosses being dragged into the political arena.
“Let us not politicize our security institutions. These men and women in uniform deserve respect, not suspicion,” President Ruto declared.
“Those casting doubts and spreading propaganda about our security leadership are playing with fire. It is reckless, dangerous and unpatriotic.”
Despite Kenya’s international peacekeeping reputation and its regional military prowess, insiders and security experts paint a worrying picture of a force stretched thin — logistically, materially, and morally.
Several military sources, speaking on condition of anonymity, have revealed that key battalions still rely on 1980s-era communication gear, armored vehicles in desperate need of replacement, and irregular ammunition supplies, especially in restive regions such as North Rift and the Kenya-Somalia border.
“We are only as strong as our weakest supply line.The sad truth is that the uniform might be new, the parade polished — but the boots on the ground are underfed, underarmed, and sometimes feel abandoned.”
Photos leaked earlier this year from a forward operating base in Mandera showed worn-out tents, jerry-rigged weapon mounts, and ration shortages — fueling public outcry and parliamentary demands for an audit of the Ministry of Defence procurement processes.
Politics in the Barracks?
At the heart of the current storm is not just the hardware, but the growing perception that senior security officials from the police service to military command are increasingly being seen in political lenses. Recent appointments and public appearances of some top commanders at political rallies or government launches have raised eyebrows.
“This is a dangerous trajectory,” warned Dr. Naomi Wanjiku,a security and governance expert.
“Security chiefs must remain apolitical. Once they start being perceived as partisan players, their credibility, and more critically, the neutrality of the security apparatus, collapses.”

But President Ruto came out guns blazing in defense of the top brass.
“These are professional officers doing a tough job in tough conditions. They don’t deserve lectures from political busybodies or media mercenaries. Let them do their work without fear or favor,” he said.
He insisted that Kenya’s security remains “firm and uncompromised,” and promised ongoing reforms to modernize equipment, improve welfare, and ensure operational autonomy.
However, he stopped short of addressing specific concerns about outdated equipment or the rumored budget diversions that have paralyzed recent procurement efforts.
Ruto’s strong defense, while energizing for some, left others wondering whether the administration is truly listening to the whistleblowers within the ranks.
A senior officer at the Kenya Defence Forces (KDF) Air Wing, speaking anonymously, expressed dismay: “We’ve filed over 20 reports on engine failures, fuel shortages, and risky flights due to lack of parts — but none have been addressed meaningfully. If you speak out, you’re labeled disloyal.”
Moreover, the parliamentary Public Accounts Committee last month demanded a fresh audit into military procurement, citing multi-billion shilling deals that have been classified under “national security” — effectively shielding them from public scrutiny.
Which way for Kenya security priorities?
With mounting geopolitical threats in the Horn of Africa, increasing banditry in the North, and the resurgence of extremist activity across the border, experts warn that Kenya cannot afford to play politics with its security foundations.
“Our first priority should be restoring transparency and professionalism in procurement,” said Brigadier (Rtd.) Fatuma Abdalla, now a regional peace consultant. “Secondly, we need to depoliticize the security sector and rebuild public confidence. Lastly, we must invest in the men and women — their health, gear, morale, and families.”
Beyond the barracks and command posts, public trust in the integrity of the military and police — long considered among the most respected institutions in the country — is slowly eroding.
“It’s painful to see soldiers patrol with rusty rifles and no body armor while their commanders drive in armored SUVs and appear in campaign-like tours,” said Amos Kiplangat, a civil society leader from Elgeyo Marakwet. “We need action, not threats. The President should fix the system, not defend it blindly.”
As cadets stood tall under the Nakuru sun, beaming with pride and hope, one could not help but feel the weight of expectations placed on their young shoulders. They march into service at a time when the institution they serve is facing unprecedented scrutiny — from within and without.
President Ruto closed his speech with an appeal for unity and vigilance:
“We are a nation that believes in discipline, duty and dignity. Let us not allow politics to corrode the core of our security. Kenya is secure — and will remain secure — as long as we remain united.”
But the question lingers: Can the shine of ceremonial swords distract from the rust of broken supply chains? Can patriotic speeches mask the muted cries of frustrated officers in far-flung bases? Can loyalty to country be preserved in an environment of political interference and material neglect?