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Even Kemi Badenoch’s closest associates understand the necessity of keeping their distance in the mornings. This is particularly true for her friends, as they are aware of the unspoken etiquette of affection. Sometimes, a little distance is a thoughtful gesture, a form of intimacy from afar.
Mornings are Kemi’s most challenging time. Rising at 6:30 a.m., she begins by scrolling through her phone to catch up on the latest cultural conflicts. After downing six double espressos, she finally feels ready to face the day. Anyone who happens to cross her path is swiftly dismissed. Offering her a granola bar? Best not to attempt it. Following her morning routine, she engages in the kind of standard policing necessary to ensure things run smoothly, all while bracing for a potential clash with anyone who might provoke her.
Therefore, it came as a surprise to see Kemi Badenoch, colloquially dubbed “KemiKaze,” as a guest on the 8:15 a.m. segment of Good Morning Britain. Who allowed her to appear at such an early hour? What was even more astonishing was her nearly affable demeanor during the interview. For once, she managed to be non-combative, even if “friendly” was a stretch. Although she still seemed to prefer solitude, she refrained from creating any discord, managing to present herself as almost relatable.
Kemi took on the leadership role of the Conservative Party with the aim of instigating meaningful change and reversing the party’s downward trend. However, nearly six months into her tenure, she found herself running low on strategies. The electorate had proven less forgiving than anticipated; they weren’t swayed by the usual divisive rhetoric. Rather, constituents were simply looking for tangible improvements in their lives, which had not materialized.
With a growing sense that her time was limited, Kemi noted that Robert Jenrick was positioning himself as a likely successor, not bothering to cloak his intentions. “Let him try,” she thought. It would be instructive to witness what plans he would propose that might be equally dismissed by the public. After all, she had given it a shot. No one could erase her title of “Leader of the Opposition” from her resume, though in her heart, she knew this role had never truly suited her. No one in their right mind would wish to take on such a challenge, especially when the odds seemed stacked against them from the start.
Interview host Susanna Reid opened the conversation with inquiries about the likelihood of coalitions forming between the Conservatives and the Reform Party. “How concerned are you about potentially facing numerous losses?” Given Kemi’s apparent disengagement, it was evident that she was not overly worried.
After enduring enough setbacks, one can become somewhat desensitized to local election outcomes. Kemi had already come to terms with the fact that the Conservatives were likely bracing for a rough Thursday. It wasn’t personal; it seemed the public’s ire was more directed at the party rather than at her individually.
Kemi appeared to freeze as Susanna attempted to elicit a response from her. “Please, say something,” her expression seemed to plead. The format of the interview required a dialogue, but Kemi was not forthcoming.
Eventually, she remarked, “We are fighting every seat,” a statement that, while technically correct, lacked detail regarding the vigor with which the Conservatives intended to campaign. Following that, she discussed expectation management. Just four years prior, the Conservatives had been thriving in the polls; now, the reality was starkly different. She attempted to downplay the significance of opinion polls, framing the Conservatives’ previous success as merely coincidental. This was not about immigration, she insisted, but rather about whom the public trusted to manage local services—though one might wonder why that trust was reflected in the rise of the Reform party.
Ed Balls, another host, asked how Kemi was feeling about her situation. “How are you doing? Are you enjoying this?” It sounded almost facetious, reminiscent of a quiz segment on University Challenge. For a moment, Kemi almost gathered her thoughts. How was she feeling? “I’m feeling terrible,” she might as well have said. Those around her had advised against taking this role—and they had been correct. Still, she found slight consolation in the notion that the Conservatives might be faring even worse if not for her leadership.
She did display some energy when discussing the Supreme Court ruling on biological sex. “I was right all along,” she exclaimed, raising her fist in triumph. For her, transgender individuals could utilize a disabled restroom; if one wasn’t available, they could simply wait until they returned home.
The interview concluded with Ed alluding to the contentious “J word.” Why was Kemi tolerating Jenrick’s open ambition to unseat her? Simply put, she didn’t care. In her view, he was destined to fail, just as she had. “Good luck to him,” she thought. As for him, he was supposedly a loyal ally—although Kemi privately questioned the loyalty of her entire team. Regardless, she felt the end was near.
Meanwhile, Keir Starmer was actively campaigning in the north-west—except in Runcorn, where a by-election was looming. His absence was a telling sign of his diminishing popularity; by avoiding the area, he protected himself from the risk of losing more votes. It was prudent to leave the strenuous campaigning to those who could engage closer to constituents on the ground, away from the Labour central campaign.
This week marks election time, although perhaps not in the traditional sense.
Source
www.theguardian.com