The Legislative Council (LEGCO) of colonial Kenya, first established in 1907, began as an exclusive instrument of settler influence but evolved into a crucible of political transformation. It reflected the structural contradictions of British colonial rule: race-based governance, settler economic interests, and the gradual — often reluctant — accommodation of African political aspirations. From its inception to its dissolution in 1963, LEGCO became both a battleground and a barometer of Kenya’s shifting political landscape.
From Settler Forum to National Legislature
The LEGCO was born out of settler agitation rather than a vision of representative governance. Following the designation of the East Africa Protectorate in 1895 and the completion of the Uganda Railway in 1901, British settlers began streaming into the fertile central highlands. By 1905, their influence was enough to pressure the colonial administration into establishing a formal legislature. The result was the creation of a Legislative Council in 1907 — comprised almost entirely of appointed officials and European settler representatives.
As George Bennett (1963) notes, the LEGCO served primarily as a counterweight to British Foreign Office policy and an avenue for settlers to influence taxation, land tenure, and labour policies. It legitimized the entrenchment of settler privileges, including the 99-year leases granted for large tracts of African land under the Crown Lands Ordinance of 1902Kenya Colony Kenya A Po…. Initially, the Council was composed of the Governor, a few ex-officio officials, and nominated or elected settler representatives. Africans and Asians were completely excluded.
The Racial Politics of Representation
The demand for representation by other communities soon followed. Asians, who were integral to commerce and railway construction, petitioned for inclusion. In 1909, limited Asian representation was conceded, but this did little to bridge the racial gap. Asians remained underrepresented despite outnumbering Europeans by the 1920s.
African representation came much later — and under more strained circumstances. It was not until 1944 that Eliud Mathu became the first African appointed to LEGCO. His nomination, rather than election, underscored the colonial state’s reluctance to concede political agency to Africans. In 1946, he was joined by Benaiah Apolo Ohanga. Still, these were token gestures within a council overwhelmingly dominated by European and settler interests. As Phoebe Musandu (2018) argues, the nomination method became a tool for limiting African influence while maintaining a veneer of inclusionTokenism or representat….
This gradual shift in representation did not reflect a change in the logic of colonial rule. Instead, it was largely a reaction to global anti-colonial sentiment, internal pressure from the emerging African elite, and crises like the Mau Mau uprising.
Mau Mau and Constitutional Reforms
The 1952 Mau Mau emergency was a turning point. The armed revolt by mostly Kikuyu fighters against land dispossession, forced labour, and political exclusion forced the British to re-evaluate their colonial strategy. Faced with international condemnation and local unrest, the colonial administration embarked on constitutional reforms designed to contain African demands while preserving settler privileges.
The Lyttelton Constitution of 1954 introduced more African representatives to the LEGCO, this time through a limited electoral process. The Lennox-Boyd Constitution of 1957 went further, enabling the election of African members based on communal rolls — a system still segregated by race. Yet the core structure of the LEGCO remained: whites had disproportionate influence, and executive power still resided with the Governor.
By 1961, under pressure from growing African nationalist movements and international watchdogs, a new constitution based on the first Lancaster House Conference gave Africans a numerical majority in the Council. The reforms allowed for the creation of 33 “open seats” contested through universal suffrage and resulted in a strong showing for the Kenya African National Union (KANU), which refused to take office unless Jomo Kenyatta was released from detention.
The Role of Women: Between Tokenism and Representation
If Africans were late to join the LEGCO, African women were almost entirely excluded. Gender exclusion was both cultural and institutional. As Musandu (2018) shows, African women were locked out of colonial education, denied land ownership, and excluded from the Native Authority structure — all of which reinforced their marginalisation from formal politics.
In 1958, Jemima Gecaga became the first African woman nominated to the LEGCO. She was followed by Priscilla Abwao in 1961. However, their inclusion was largely symbolic. The nomination process was neither democratic nor representative of women’s movements. Gecaga spoke only once during her tenure, while Abwao had to constantly defend her position as both a woman and a nominated member. Her presence provoked hostility, especially from male African legislators who questioned the legitimacy of nominated — and female — participation in national debates.
Despite these challenges, Abwao made significant contributions, advocating for female education, equal employment, and political representation. She called for reforms to allow women to vote and contest in local elections and challenged the assumption that politics was the sole preserve of men. Her career exemplifies the systemic barriers that limited women’s roles in Kenya’s political transition.
From Colonial Legislature to Independence
By the time of the second Lancaster House Conference in 1962, the writing was on the wall. Britain accepted the inevitability of African majority rule. The LEGCO, once an exclusive settler body, had become the stage for nationalist debates about independence, land reform, and constitutional order. The 1963 elections, held under the final constitutional framework agreed in London, saw KANU win overwhelmingly. With Kenya’s independence on 12 December 1963, the LEGCO was replaced by a National Assembly.
But the legacy of the LEGCO was mixed. It had resisted change for decades and only reformed when confronted by external and internal crises. Its structure institutionalised racial and gender exclusions. Nonetheless, it served as the training ground for many African leaders — including Tom Mboya, Oginga Odinga, and Daniel arap Moi — who would dominate Kenyan politics for decades. It also laid the foundations for parliamentary practice in independent Kenya.
Conclusion
The Legislative Council of Kenya was more than a colonial administrative body; it was a contested site of race, power, and resistance. From its settler-dominated beginnings to its twilight years as a multiracial (but still unequal) legislature, the LEGCO mirrored the contradictions and tensions of colonial rule. While it ultimately gave way to majority African governance, its long record of exclusion and incremental reform shaped the political culture that emerged in post-colonial Kenya. Understanding its history offers insight into both the struggles and continuities in Kenya’s journey to self-rule.