Kenyans Try To Move On From Another Election Debacle NAIROBI - For a ringside seat on the spectacle of Kenyan democracy's turbulent workings, I'd recommend Dormans on Mama Ngina Street. I had just ordered an espresso at the café, around the corner from the Supreme Court, on Saturday when the mood on this normally bustling street suddenly turned. Scores of pedestrians began running past the window. Waitresses leapt to pull down the café"s metal shutters. The police fired tear gas from a truck roaring by. Then a posse of riot police officers ran past with their shields up, clubs brandished. The cause of the uproar was the imminent arrival of Prime Minister Raila Odinga, who was scheduled to file a lawsuit challenging the validity Uhuru Kenyatta's victory in the recent presidential election. "Is this the Kenya we want?" shouted supporters of Odinga's CORD alliance outside the court gates, holding up a blood-splattered T-shirt that read "Democracy on Trial." They milled around nervously, eyes on the police trucks standing by. "This is KANU all over again," a student said to a friend, recalling the days of single-party rule. A crowd gathered over a bullet casing on the road, snapping pictures with mobile phones. See. They want to kill us," one supporter said, his back straightening. If Odinga's people are despondent, and clamoring to be heard, others are promoting acceptance. "Time to move on" has become the mantra of one section of Kenyan society - the one that heaved a sigh of relief that Odinga (whom it sees as an unreliable maverick) was denied the top post, bloodshed was largely averted and Kenya stayed in one piece. O.K., these Kenyans say, the election commission turned out to be a joke, the voting was deeply flawed and its results are dubious, but no one wants a rerun. Who can blame them? The country has effectively been in electoral campaigning mode for the past five years, and there can be few things more wearying than a state of constant political turmoil. But "let's move on" leaves the jilted party with nothing to chew on but disappointment. It tends to generate exasperated fury rather than quiet acceptance. Whatever the Supreme Court decides really happened on March 4, nearly half of the Kenyan electorate did not want the Kikuyu-Kalenjin alliance that is currently tightening its grip on the levers of power. Media self-censorship and heavy police cordons have ensured that the sentiments of pro-Odinga Luo and Luhya residents in Nairobi's slums rarely get an airing on Kenya's television screens and newspaper pages. But civil-society activists warn that the mood on the coast and in Western Kenya - Odinga's traditional support bases - is tense and potentially volatile. For these communities, the increasingly detailed allegations of ballot-box stuffing, inconsistent registration lists and questionable vote counts bear out a historical trend. Once again their Luo champion was robbed of his rightful victory. Will Kenya's Kikuyu elite - which will have provided three of country's four presidents if Kenyatta's election is confirmed by the Supreme Court - ever allow any other ethnic group to run the country? Kenyatta desperately needs to reassure this constituency. He reportedly is trying to mollify Odinga by offering him a choice of well-paid honorific positions and ministerial posts in the future government to members of his CORD team. But that will not do. What Kenya desperately needs is an end to a political culture that treats state resources as a winner's preserve rather than national assets benefiting all citizens equally. Since independence, a Kenyan's quality of life - access to clean water, roads, clinics and schools - has been determined by whether his ethnic kinsman sits at the top table. The 2010 Constitution was designed to change this, devolving more funds and decision making to the local authorities. If the election results are confirmed, Kenyatta will have to breathe life into that document, not fight it, and prove that in the new Kenya, ethnic affiliation is of little consequence. Rather than reward his supporters of Central Kenya and the Rift Valley for their loyalty, as is traditional for an African chief, Kenyatta's first act should be to unveil an ambitious investment plan, heavy on job creation, for the people who suspect that they are poised for five more years of marginalization. This is the only way Kenya's other half might feel ready to move on from the latest in a series of election debacles.