'Fire si Fire'!: How Kithure Kindiki morphed from Mr. Nice Guy to Ruto's fiercest combatant

After the Gachagua impeachment rigmarole, which saw the former deputy president ignominiously hounded out of office and banished to the sunny Wamunyoro greenery, it was all but too clear who would replace him - but no one could have anticipated the pompous magnetism with which he would assume his new role.

At first, Kindiki came off as a clumsy klutz whose timidity and self-effacing aura made him a subject of much online ridicule and political derision.

Unlike some of his more cocksure compatriots, Kindiki appeared like William Ruto's obvious poodle as he shamelessly grovelled to the president's every whim - and even to the brazen commands of the President's trusted compeer Farouk Kibet.

In public, one could easily smell Kindiki's diffidence as he coyly saluted the president, stumbled his way around and lathered his boss with an unhealthy amount of sycophantic adulation.

Unsure of what exactly to do with his newfound power - and office - Kindiki could be seen sheepishly following commands and, at some point, even being awkwardly shepherded around in public events by Farouk Kibet, all in full glare of cameras.

Perhaps aware of his innate modesty, his political opponents fashioned him into a little scared marionette who could easily be commanded and chaperoned, and a subservient man with no voice of his own and no autonomy outside the overbearing dictates of his boss.

Tired of the mockery, Kindiki sought to be more in charge of his milieu, dropping his meekness and adopting a more combatant persona, if only to scare off the barking mongrels and prove his mettle.

Armed with fiery slogans and a belligerent tone, Kindiki emerged with a braver sound and a menacing air, the clarity, fire and seering acuity of his voice cutting through the membranes of his foes.

This was a new Kindiki; a deputy president tired of the ridicule and sneers, and a man sickened by the contemptuous caricature of his voice and manhood.

Kindiki now sought to rewrite his epigraph and to remind his detractors that he could swim with the sharks too, and, if need be, snorkel in the muddy waters as well. He was willing to play dirty and lose a tooth or two in battle. 

First, he invented a cheesy slogan that is all-too-Kindiki: "Mi ni noma si noma, ni fire si fire!" he would roar to his audiences in an attempt to rile up the crowd, assert his dominance, ward off his rivals and inject some much-needed oomph in his public theatrics.

Gone was the meek Kindiki - Here now was a man done with the niceties and measured camaraderie; Kindiki had now gone full throttle and was willing to take up the fight right to the doorsteps of his adversaries, his fangs and claws in full display.

His eagerness to display his impatience was palpable. He had endured enough taunts and sarcastic jeers and was prepared to show the nation - and most importantly his boss - that he was no pushover with a teenage girl's voice.

Now, he was no longer imploring Rigathi Gachagua with kind phrases. He was no longer calling Gachagua "My Friend" and throwing around bonhomie expressions like "Tuheshimiane Tafathali". He was now calling him out - brashly, brazenly and assertively.

On June 22, in a strongly worded statement released on his social media platforms, Kindiki roared and hissed. 

He wrote: "Mr Trap Man, your brief and controversial political career has been characterised by hollow threats, arrogance, and a consistent display of incompetence".

"While it is clear that your intentions are to distract and derail meaningful discourse, we remain steadfast in our commitment to the solemn duty of nation-building."

He added, "We will still find the time to take you head-on and obliterate your petty and juvenile theatrics in the most spectacular and decisive manner. You are gravely mistaken in your assumptions."

Those were not idle musings of a man who was easy to jostle - those were searing exhortations of a man who had finally found his voice and was willing to draw as much blood as he possibly could.

And in what appears to have been a mastery choreographed move, the State decided to dispatch him across the country on the so-called 'Empowerment Tours' where he not only brought along his newfound courage but also bags of money, political conceit and a State-backed arsenal.

The former law professor has now reinvented himself as the master-in-chief of the Kenyan political chessboard. He's no longer the sugary-voiced placater. He's far from that. Kindiki is now the bürgermeister of Kenyan realpolitik. And he doesn't seem to be slowing down. Not anytime soon.