Former Kenya Police midfielder throws hat into politics' ring ahead of 2027 elections
Reading Time: 5min | Thu. 28.05.26. | 19:04
The decision to leave active football for politics has sparked mixed reactions among supporters and teammates alike
On the dusty community pitches of Thika, where football dreams are often born long before they are funded, the name “Bycy” still carries weight.
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For years, Kelvin Mwaura was known for his composure in midfield, a player whose journey through Kenyan football mirrored the grit and uncertainty that define the local game itself.
From the rise and helping promote outgoing Premier League champions Kenya Police FC to difficult injury setbacks and a recent stint with NSL sides Fortune Sacco and Kabati Youth, Mwaura built his identity around resilience.
Now, he is trading football boots for campaign trails.
The fleet-footed midfielder has announced his intention to vie for the Member of County Assembly (MCA) seat for Hospital Ward in Thika ahead of the 2027 General Elections, stepping into a world he describes as more demanding than football itself.
“The time is right to take over leadership,” Mwaura says calmly, speaking with the certainty of someone who has already wrestled with doubt before.
“Politics has been in my blood. I have been a youth leader at home, and I have seen it fit to seek a leadership position at Hospital Ward where I was raised.”
For many footballers, the final whistle often arrives with uncertainty. Careers fade quietly, injuries intervene, and the transition into ordinary life becomes a struggle few openly discuss. Mwaura understands that reality all too well.
At Kabati Youth, a community-driven side competing in Kenya’s second tier, he saw firsthand how fragile football life can become without sponsorship or institutional backing.
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“Footballers need a fallback plan,” he says. “It’s wise to look at life after football, and I have embraced mine already.”
But this is not merely the story of an athlete seeking relevance beyond sport. For Mwaura, politics appears deeply personal.
Born and raised in Hospital Ward, he speaks about the area less like a politician chasing votes and more like a son frustrated by familiar struggles. He remembers the young people he grew up with; ambitious, energetic, but often stranded after school without opportunities or direction.
“The youth especially find it tough after school while trying to transition into the employment world,” he explains. “I’m passionate about changing the lives of my people.”
His vision stretches beyond campaign slogans. Mwaura talks passionately about vocational empowerment; creating pathways for youth through driving courses, plumbing, carpentry, electrical training, and small business opportunities such as car wash enterprises and cabro-making projects.
In his mind, leadership is not about grand promises but practical survival.
“Young people have a big role to play in society,” he says. “We have to bridge the skill gap.”
Football, unsurprisingly, still sits at the centre of that vision.
Few towns in Kenya can claim the football heritage Thika once enjoyed. The rise of Thika United turned the industrial town into one of the country’s most reliable talent pipelines, while clubs like Bidco United carried that legacy into the top flight. But in recent years, the region’s football identity has faded.
Mwaura believes it can return.
“In the past, Thika was a hub of football talent in this country,” he says. “I believe we can bring back another club to the top flight because we have many industries in the county.”
He speaks optimistically about engaging companies through corporate social responsibility partnerships to rebuild a strong football culture in the area, a plan that blends both his sporting experience and political ambition.
Still, not everyone is convinced.
The decision to leave active football for politics has sparked mixed reactions among supporters and teammates alike. Some believe the midfielder still has unfinished business on the pitch.
“There are fans who have begged me to play one last season before I leave,” he says with a smile.
Others, however, have embraced his new journey wholeheartedly. Some teammates have reportedly even transferred their voting registration to Hospital Ward in support of his campaign.
“My family has been very supportive too,” he says. “That blessing from my parents means a lot.”
If football taught Mwaura anything, it was endurance.
A serious injury once sidelined him for nearly two years, a period many believed marked the end of his career. Yet he fought back into the game, rebuilding himself physically and mentally in the face of doubt.
“I had to start from scratch,” he recalls. “Some people had ruled me out of football completely, but I proved them wrong.”
That experience, he says, hardened him for politics, a space he describes as mentally exhausting and relentlessly demanding.
“With football, you train for two hours and then go rest,” he jokes. “Politics takes all your time. You have to be on the ground, talk to people, and create sensitisation. Politics is tougher.”
Even so, football is not something he believes he can truly leave behind.
“Bycy is football, and football is Bycy,” he says firmly. “Whether I’ll be playing or not, I will still be in football. It’s football that has given me the name I have today.”
For now, his focus is firmly on the ground campaign.
Among the first initiatives lined up under his movement is “Safisha Mtaa na Bycy,” a community cleanup exercise scheduled for Saturday, 6 June, alongside a free medical camp offering diabetes and blood pressure screening, as well as a tree-planting exercise on Saturday, 30 May.
To Mwaura, these activities represent the kind of leadership he wants to embody: visible, accessible, and rooted within the community itself.
“It’s time for fresh leadership,” he says. “A time to give the youth a chance. Someone who understands the challenges the people of Hospital Ward go through because he has lived among them.”
On the football pitch, Kelvin “Bycy” Mwaura built a reputation fighting for possession in crowded midfields. Now, in the streets of Hospital Ward, he is preparing for a different kind of contest, one measured not in goals or assists, but in trust.