Author Archives: Brian Nyabuti

Impact of Kenya’s Toxic Chemical Policy on Farmers and Exports

Posted on by

Kenya’s 2025 pesticide ban is more than a policy shift—it’s an overdue confrontation with dangerous agrochemical practices that have long gone unchecked. At the heart of the crackdown is Mancozeb, a fungicide so entrenched in Kenyan agriculture that it’s sprayed like water on tomatoes, potatoes, and maize. Yet this widely used chemical breaks down into ethylene thiourea (ETU)—a probable human carcinogen linked to thyroid harm and reproductive toxicity. Mancozeb has already been banned across the European Union and flagged by multiple global health authorities, but until now, it continued to flow into Kenyan markets with barely a check. Now, alongside Mancozeb, Kenya has also moved to restrict or suspend other hazardous products including chlorpyrifos, acephate, glyphosate, and dimethoate—compounds associated with cancer risks, neurotoxicity, endocrine disruption, and acute poisoning in both humans and animals. In withdrawing 77 toxic products and tightening rules on 202 more, the government is finally rejecting the toxic trade imbalance that treats African countries as chemical dumping grounds. The new policy aligns Kenyan regulation with international best practice: no pesticide can be registered here unless it’s also legal in its country of origin and in developed economies like the EU, USA, Canada, or Australia. It’s a turning point—but not without blowback.

A Report by K24TV

For years, Mancozeb symbolized Kenya’s regulatory inertia: cheap, accessible, and unchallenged despite the mounting science against it. Farmers, often unaware of its dangers, sprayed it without masks or gloves, storing the residues in their homes, their soil, and their food. Chlorpyrifos, a widely used insecticide linked to developmental harm in children, and glyphosate, a herbicide under global scrutiny for carcinogenicity, have followed similar trajectories—popular with farmers but flagged by scientists and health agencies. Now, the state faces a high-stakes transition. Smallholders reliant on these chemicals are being urged toward Integrated Pest Management (IPM) and agroecological alternatives. Yet less than 10% of Kenyan farmers use biopesticides, and most lack training, equipment, or trust in new inputs. The Pest Control Products Board, emboldened by fresh legislation, is finally flexing its oversight powers. But enforcement remains patchy, and counterfeit products exploit the regulatory vacuum. Mancozeb isn’t just a pesticide—it’s a case study in how economic expediency once overrode health and environmental responsibility. That era, Kenya now claims, is ending.

Timing is crucial. The EU is cracking down on residue limits. Kenya’s vegetable exports—once worth KSh 100 billion—have already taken a hit. If the country wants to stay competitive and credible, aligning with global safety standards is not optional. Mancozeb’s fall is both symbolic and strategic: it’s a warning to other harmful substances still in circulation—like profenofos, carbendazim, and triazophos—and a test of whether Kenya can enforce its own reform. This is where political will must hold—beyond press briefings and regulatory memos. Farmers need practical support. Consumers need transparency. And regulators must resist the pressure of well-funded pesticide lobbies looking to reverse course. Kenya has declared its direction. Now the country must walk it—with clarity, speed, and resolve—before the next generation pays the price in poisoned soil, sickened bodies, and lost trade.

References:

Trade World News Kenya Bans Import of 50 Pesticide Brands for Safer Farming

The Standard State cracks down on harmful pesticides, bans 77 products

The Star Civil society demand full disclosure of banned pesticides, calls for safer agricultural reforms

The Star 77 pesticides banned in Kenya as 202 others restricted – CS Kagwe

Kenya News Agency State urged to make to make public list of banned pesticides

Kenyans.co.ke Kenya Bans Use of Pesticides Not Approved in Europe, USA, Canada & Australia

Beyond Tear Gas: Kenya’s Protests and the Deeper Economic Fault Lines

Posted on by

Kenya stands on the edge of a breaking point, as nationwide protests planned for June 25, 2025, threaten to ignite a powder keg of grievances that have simmered for far too long. The recent killings of Albert Ojwang and Boniface Kariuki during demonstrations are not isolated incidents—they are flashpoints in a larger pattern of state overreach and institutional deafness. While headlines focus on police brutality and protest management, a more insidious reality demands attention: the sustained economic suffocation of the Kenyan populace. The cost of living continues to soar. Public debt has swollen to KSh 11 trillion. Education remains underfunded, and youth unemployment festers like an untreated wound. Amid this, the government’s focus on force and optics, rather than reform and relief, appears increasingly deliberate. It is no longer simply a failure to act—it is a strategy of distraction, where brute security responses replace dialogue, and public anger is met with tear gas instead of tangible solutions.

A Report by Citizen TV Kenya

This redirection is clearest in the shift from last year’s finance protests to this year’s rhetoric on law and order. After being forced to walk back the 2024 Finance Bill amid massive pushback, the state seems determined to recast the youth-led movement as a public threat rather than a national awakening. But this strategy grossly underestimates the intelligence and resolve of a digitally savvy, politically alert generation. What the state has failed to internalize is that the fuel behind these protests is not a single tax line or budget clause—it is the lived experience of economic abandonment. From unpaid interns to underfunded school programs, from shuttered clinics to inflated basic goods, Kenyans are not protesting a moment—they are protesting a system. When young people march, they are not just asking for change; they are demanding to be seen, to be heard, and to be respected as stakeholders in a country that often treats them as collateral.

That is why June 25 holds more than just symbolic significance—it is a moral crossroads for the nation. One year after the storming of Parliament by a disillusioned youth bloc, the same issues remain unresolved, and in many cases, have worsened. Kenya cannot police its way out of a political and economic crisis. The louder the government beats the drums of security, the more transparent its silence becomes on job creation, education reform, healthcare access, and corruption crackdowns. If this government fails to acknowledge the root causes of unrest, it will find itself chasing symptoms while the disease spreads. True national stability will not come from the barrel of a gun or the lens of a surveillance drone—it will come from confronting the truth with courage. The youth are not the enemy. They are the warning light on the dashboard of a republic veering off course. And unless Kenya listens—and acts—history may remember this moment not as a turning point, but as a missed opportunity written in smoke and silence.

References:

All Africa Kenya Drops Tax Hikes in New Budget, Focuses on Reforms

The Star Factors affecting retail prices in Kenya

The Kenyan Wall Street Kenya’s Public Debt Interest Payments On Pace to Cross KSh 1 Trillion in 2025

Kenya News Agency Kenya launches the 2025 Economic Survey

Citizen Digital A depressed economy? Employment opportunities in Kenya shrink as wages go down

Aljazeera Kenyan police shoot bystander at close range during latest protests

The Impact of SHA on Health Access in Kenya

Posted on by

When Kenya launched the Social Health Authority (SHA) as the cornerstone of universal health coverage, the promise was clear: to ensure every citizen could access essential health services without facing financial ruin. Yet today, that promise faces a serious credibility test. Recent developments indicate that many Kenyans, particularly the unemployed and low-income earners, are being turned away from public hospitals unless they first settle their full-year SHA premium in advance. This development contradicts the October 2024 assurance that eliminated upfront payments, and it has created uncertainty and distress for millions who had hoped the new system would ease their access to care. While the government’s “Lipa SHA Pole Pole” initiative was introduced as a flexible payment model, its application has exposed a difficult paradox—patients unable to pay full premiums are being directed to loan facilities such as the Hustler Fund, raising concerns about equity and affordability in health access.

A Report by K24TV

The data reinforces the gravity of this policy gap. As of May 2025, around 22 million Kenyans were registered under SHA. However, only 4 to 5 million were actively contributing. This stark difference highlights a growing segment of the population—nearly 17 million—who are nominally enrolled but effectively excluded from coverage. Field reports indicate cases where patients who had made partial payments through monthly KSh 1,030 contributions were still denied treatment unless they completed the full annual sum of KSh 12,460. This shift from previous messaging has created confusion within the public and among healthcare providers alike. Hospitals are left navigating between policy directives and practical enforcement realities, while patients face an impossible choice between debt and delayed care. The concern here is not just administrative inconsistency but a fundamental disconnect between the objectives of health reform and its practical execution.

Efforts to finance the health sector sustainably must not eclipse the foundational goal of protecting all citizens—especially the most vulnerable. Leveraging loan facilities to pay for health premiums, even under a well-meaning “pay slowly” framework, may alleviate cash flow challenges temporarily, but risks increasing personal debt burdens among already struggling households. Basic principles of household economics do not support taking on credit to finance routine health coverage costs—particularly when such expenses are meant to be predictable and pooled through public insurance schemes. Moreover, legal challenges have already resulted in court rulings that bar exclusion from emergency services based on insurance status, underscoring the constitutional imperative of inclusive care. For SHA to regain public confidence, there must be a renewed focus on clarity, consistency, and compassion. Equity must guide implementation just as much as fiscal planning. Universal health coverage cannot be achieved by design alone—it must be delivered through systems that align with the economic realities of those it intends to serve.

References:

The Standard Why most Kenyans cannot access SHA services

Kenyans.co.ke Kenyans Frustrated as SHA Scraps Monthly Payments, Demands Full Year Upfront

GeoPoll Understanding Kenyans’ Perception of the Social Health Authority (SHA) and Social Health Insurance Fund (SHIF)

The Star Jua Kali Kenyans paying Sh600 to SHA—double the promised rate

A Dose Too Late: Kenya’s Vaccine Shortage Risks a Generational Health Collapse

Posted on by

As of mid-2025, Kenya is teetering on the brink of a devastating public health collapse driven by severe vaccine shortages. With 12 counties having completely run out of critical vaccines such as BCG, polio, and rotavirus, the government’s assurance that “no child will miss a dose” stands at odds with harsh ground realities. This is not just a failure of procurement; it is a breakdown of the entire immunization ecosystem—from poor cold chain infrastructure and inadequate forecasting to chronic delays in budget disbursement and transportation shortfalls. Border regions and refugee camps like Dadaab and Kakuma are hardest hit, with near-zero stock levels and rising numbers of zero-dose children. The threat of disease resurgence is no longer hypothetical: polio cases have already been confirmed in Garissa, and a major measles outbreak is underway in Turkana. These are not just statistics. They are warnings of a long-term developmental regression that, if ignored, will haunt the nation for decades.

A Report by NTV Kenya

The implications of this vaccine crisis stretch far beyond public health clinics. Vaccines are a cornerstone of Kenya’s investment in its human capital. Every child who misses their immunization schedule increases the nation’s future healthcare burden and diminishes productivity potential. When children fall ill or die from preventable diseases, families spiral into poverty, and entire communities are destabilized. The social contract that underpins Kenya’s National Safety Net Program—which aims to protect the most vulnerable—is severely undermined when children, citizens or not, cannot access lifesaving interventions. Refugees, nomadic populations, and residents of arid and semi-arid lands are disproportionately affected, exacerbating inequality and fostering mistrust in state institutions. In practical terms, this also undermines peace-building efforts in volatile regions. Failing to vaccinate every child—regardless of their citizenship status—is not just a moral failure; it is a strategic one.

This crisis must jolt the government and its international partners into urgent, coordinated action. Kenya has outlined promising frameworks, including the Kenya Health Emergency Preparedness, Response and Resilience Project (KHEPRR) and plans for a Strategic Vaccine Reserve. But ambition alone is not enough. These initiatives must be fully financed, properly managed, and transparently implemented. The Shirika Plan, which aims to integrate refugee populations and reduce aid dependency, must also prioritize health equity—not just infrastructure. Kenya’s development goals under Vision 2030, including universal health coverage, depend on this. International precedent shows that nations that fail to maintain routine immunization lose decades of progress in mere months during outbreaks. Kenya must act now to secure its population’s health and uphold its moral and constitutional duty to protect every child. This is no longer just about doses and syringes. It’s about defending the right to survive—and thrive—for generations to come.

References:

ReliefWeb Kenya: Vaccine Shortages Endanger Children’s Lives in Remote and Humanitarian Settings

Kenyans.co.ke Ministry of Health Announces Arrival of Polio and BCG Vaccines Amid Shortage

The Star MoH admits vaccine shortage amid global supply bottlenecks

Refugees International Aid cuts in Kenya will jeopardize years of progress for refugees.

Kenya’s Escalating Security and Civic Rights Crisis

Posted on by

Kenya is staring down a security crisis that can no longer be blamed on bandits or activists alone. From the shocking murder of Catholic priest Fr. Alois Bett in Kerio Valley to the arrest of digital activist Rose Njeri, recent events expose a breakdown of trust, law, and legitimacy in the very institutions meant to protect the public. In Kerio, teachers, doctors, and missionaries have fled as armed groups tighten their grip — filling the vacuum left by a state that shows up too late, with too little. More than 70 schools have been shut down, a major hospital has closed, and even church leaders now speak of “a valley of death.” What’s worse: when the state does intervene, its methods are often coercive rather than restorative — issuing ultimatums to entire communities under threat of “all necessary force.” This is not security. It’s collective punishment masquerading as policy, and it only deepens fear and fuels defiance. The government’s inability to distinguish bandits from residents or treat citizens as partners in peace risks entrenching a cycle of violence. This is not a crisis of capacity. It’s a crisis of credibility.

A Report by Citizen TV Kenya

The response to civic dissent has been equally chilling. The arrest and weekend detention of Rose Njeri — a software developer who created a digital tool for citizens to email objections to the Finance Bill — was a stark reminder that Kenya’s democratic space is narrowing fast. Her crime? Enabling public participation. This is not just an affront to digital freedoms — it’s a direct violation of Article 33 (freedom of expression) and Article 35 (access to information) of Kenya’s Constitution. Even more damning is the pattern. Detaining citizens over weekends to avoid court oversight has become an authoritarian reflex. This violates the legal standard upheld in Coalition for Reform and Democracy (CORD) & 2 others v Republic of Kenya & another [2015] eKLR, where the court held that prolonged detentions without charge constitute unconstitutional abuse of state power. Yet the tactic continues — often against youth activists, journalists, and tech-savvy organizers. These are not enemies of the state. They are its conscience. If the state treats code like a crime and civic tech as terrorism, it signals a descent into digital authoritarianism — one that no PR campaign or presidential handshake can disguise.

What Kenya needs now is more than investigations and operations. It needs political courage — and jurisprudential discipline. The government must fully implement existing rulings and international obligations. The IPOA’s mandate must be respected, and police accountability pursued with vigor, not rhetoric. Parliament must hold the executive to account when it violates rights under the guise of national security. The courts have laid the foundation. In Independent Policing Oversight Authority v Attorney General & 4 others [2020] eKLR, the High Court affirmed IPOA’s role as the sole lawful investigator of police misconduct. The Executive must respect that boundary. Meanwhile, civil society must continue challenging digital repression and pushing for laws that protect activists, not silence them. Kenya’s youth are not the threat — they are the firewall against authoritarian drift. From Kerio to Kibera, from code to constitution, Kenya’s real security will only be built when the state values trust more than force, and justice more than optics.

References:

Kenya News Agency County Commissioner Leads Madaraka Day with Tough Message on Illegal Brews

The Star Key suspect in murder of Catholic priest Allois Bett arrested

BBC Outrage in Kenya over detention of software developer

The Star Gachagua calls for immediate release of activist Rose Njeri

The Eastleigh Voice Kenya’s security at risk as regional instability grows, warns NIS boss

BBC Pressure mounts to probe Kenya police and army after BBC exposé

Kenya News Agency State declare a nationwide crackdown on organized criminal gangs

Evaluating Kenya’s Affordable Housing Program: Benefits and Risks

Posted on by

Kenya’s Affordable Housing Programme (AHP) has been framed by the government as a historic solution to the nation’s urban housing deficit — a bold, transformative plan to put 250,000 new housing units into the hands of low- and middle-income earners each year. It’s the crown jewel of the Kenya Kwanza administration’s economic agenda, wrapped in promises of job creation, urban renewal, and dignity for the working class. But behind the polished press briefings and televised groundbreakings, the cracks are showing. Critics argue the housing levy — a mandatory deduction from all salaried workers — amounts to taxation without representation, especially when access to the houses is uncertain and the projected costs remain largely unaffordable for the very people funding them. Worse still, the rollout has sparked deep anxiety over forced evictions, unclear beneficiary selection processes, and the growing fear that without proper planning, these “affordable” units may become vertical slums stacked over broken infrastructure. For many Kenyans, the project feels less like a social contract and more like a speculative bet — one where the house always wins, and it’s not the public holding the keys.

A Report by Citizen Digital

The legal and structural questions around the housing project are mounting. In 2023, the High Court ruled parts of the Affordable Housing Act unconstitutional — particularly the centralized levy collection through the Kenya Revenue Authority, which bypassed public participation and legislative oversight. While the government quickly responded with legislative tweaks, the shadow of that ruling lingers. Public trust in housing delivery remains fragile, especially given Kenya’s history with failed or stalled housing programs and ghost estates like the infamous Nyayo House projects. Though the state touts the initiative as “inclusive,” it is heavily reliant on public-private partnerships where the private sector bears little risk, while taxpayers shoulder both the capital and the consequences. Key policy watchdogs argue that the financing model lacks transparency, and that the absence of social safeguards could lead to gentrification and displacement, particularly in areas like Mukuru, Kibera, and Mathare where informal settlements sit on prime land now targeted for redevelopment. The big risk? That homes built in the name of the poor end up benefiting civil servants, politicians, and private investors — not the mama mboga or jua kali artisan.

If Kenya’s affordable housing dream is to succeed, it must move beyond brick-and-mortar targets and confront the human realities of affordability, transparency, and equity. The price tags on many units still outpace the average urban worker’s income. The so-called “affordable” category often starts at KSh 1.5M — a figure out of reach for most informal sector workers who make up over 80% of Kenya’s labor force. Meanwhile, the digitized application and allocation model, while meant to enhance fairness, risks excluding those without access to mobile money, smartphones, or stable identification — particularly the urban poor it claims to prioritize. Additionally, new housing developments are outpacing investments in transport, sewerage, schools, and hospitals, raising fears that these estates will quickly deteriorate into overpopulated, under-serviced high-rises. The government must urgently clarify allocation policies, invest in supporting infrastructure, and put people — not politics — at the center of the housing agenda. Because if “affordable housing” becomes just another ambitious slogan without delivery, it won’t just fail to fix the housing crisis — it will deepen Kenya’s already fractured urban future.

References:

KBC Completed number of affordable housing units down by half

The Eastleigh Voice Govt raises affordable housing research budget to Sh2.8bn amid credibility concerns

Capital News Ruto says handing over Housing units the most consequential day of his political career.

NTV Who got Ruto Mukuru houses? Not us, residents now claim

Citizen Digital Vertical slums: How new crop of apartments in Kilimani, Kileleshwa is affecting Nairobi’s infrastructure

Broken Chalk, Heavy Minds: Kenya’s Teachers Are Cracking Under Pressure

Posted on by

Behind the lesson plans, classroom chalkboards, and national curriculum reforms lies a worsening crisis no one wants to confront: the mental health of Kenyan teachers. While policymakers debate school infrastructure and CBC reforms, teachers — especially those deployed to remote hardship areas — are quietly slipping into psychological distress. Long hours, poor housing, insecurity, and administrative pressure are converging into what experts describe as a “mental health time bomb.” According to recent findings, over 25% of teachers in hardship zones exhibit symptoms of burnout, anxiety, or depression. This figure is likely underreported, given the stigma that still surrounds mental health discussions in the education sector. The harsh irony is that those tasked with nurturing the mental and emotional well-being of children are themselves emotionally depleted, working under punishing conditions with minimal support. For teachers posted to far-flung regions — from Turkana to Taita Taveta — the challenges aren’t just professional; they’re deeply personal. They’re living in fear of conflict, cut off from families, often without access to clean water or stable power — and still expected to deliver top academic outcomes.

A Report by K24TV

This psychological pressure has come to a head following a proposal by the Teachers Service Commission (TSC) to revise the hardship allowance structure. The proposal suggests reviewing and potentially reducing hardship allowances in counties where conditions are deemed to have “improved” — including several historically marginalized regions like Marsabit, Mandera, Isiolo, and Kilifi. This has sparked instant backlash from the Kenya Union of Post Primary Education Teachers (KUPPET) and the Kenya National Union of Teachers (KNUT), who argue that the proposed changes are tone-deaf and dangerous. Union leaders insist that the so-called improved areas still suffer from chronic insecurity, food scarcity, poor health services, and deplorable living conditions. Cutting allowances under these conditions, they argue, will only deepen teacher shortages, worsen morale, and push more educators into psychological breakdown. Already, high turnover and transfer requests plague hardship regions — not because teachers don’t care, but because they are exhausted, isolated, and unsupported. The allowance, for many, is the only remaining incentive tethering them to these underserved regions. Removing or reducing it, without real infrastructure or support investment, is like cutting the safety net and hoping no one falls.

But the issue isn’t just about allowances — it’s about the invisible costs of neglecting teacher welfare. As mental health deteriorates and professional burnout spikes, teaching quality suffers, student outcomes drop, and entire communities are affected. What’s urgently needed is not just an economic rethink of allowances, but a national teacher wellness policy. Mental health support must be built into education sector planning, especially for those in high-stress deployments. That means professional counseling access, more humane deployment cycles, structured leave, and peer support programs. The government must stop treating teachers as expendable cogs in the machinery of curriculum delivery — and start seeing them as human beings, whose mental strength is foundational to national development. Education reform can’t succeed on exhausted minds and broken morale. Kenya cannot afford to ignore this crisis in its classrooms any longer.

References:

The Standard Teachers fume over plan to slash their hardship allowance

Kenyans.co.ke Teachers Threaten to Strike as Push and Pull On Hardship Allowance Intensifies

The Eastleigh Voice Teachers unions reject govt plan to reclassify hardship areas without consultation

Fake Medicines Threaten Public Health in Kenya

Posted on by

Kenya’s pharmaceutical supply chain is facing a creeping, deadly crisis — one that’s quietly poisoning public trust in healthcare. In 2024 alone, over 30 different drug products were recalled in Kenya, more than doubling the previous year’s figure. This disturbing surge included contaminated pediatric syrups, mislabeled antibiotics, and packaging mix-ups between life-saving cancer drugs and common generics. Some of these were produced by global manufacturers with once-reputable names. The growing scale and severity of these incidents have exposed glaring weaknesses in regulatory enforcement, border control, and supply chain oversight. But beyond the headlines lies a darker story — fake and substandard medicines are no longer rare exceptions; they are becoming routine features in pharmacies, clinics, and even households. As treatment failures rise and drug resistance intensifies, trust in medicine itself is breaking down. Patients increasingly worry: if I walk into a pharmacy, how can I know what I’m buying won’t kill me?

A K24 Report from 2024

The regulator, the Pharmacy and Poisons Board (PPB), is overwhelmed. With just 16 inspectors tasked with overseeing a vast and evolving market — spanning over 10,000 retail outlets, mobile vendors, and now, an unregulated e-pharmacy explosion — enforcement efforts are falling behind. In 2024, the PPB shut down 117 illegal pharmacies, an important but ultimately symbolic move in the face of thousands more operating without licenses or pharmacist supervision. Online drug sales are the new front line. A study found that over 60% of Kenyan e-pharmacies sell restricted drugs like antibiotics and sedatives without prescriptions, bypassing safeguards entirely. These platforms, often disguised as Instagram shops, WhatsApp-based vendors, or websites with fake credentials, target desperate buyers looking for cheap, fast relief. With little digital verification, no pharmacist involvement, and no legal framework to manage or penalize them, the risk of mass harm is escalating. Meanwhile, legitimate pharmacies face the fallout: eroded consumer confidence, a rise in self-medication, and unfair competition from black-market sellers. At the center of it all is a poorly resourced regulator trapped in a battle it cannot win with its current tools.

Fixing this won’t come from a few more closures or stern warnings. What’s needed is a total overhaul of pharmaceutical regulation and public health literacy. The PPB needs financial and legal independence, an expanded workforce, and modern tools — including barcode authentication, blockchain-backed tracking systems, and real-time reporting dashboards for drug recalls and falsifications. E-pharmacies must be brought under legal oversight immediately, with criminal penalties for non-compliant platforms. Consumer protection should no longer be passive; the government must launch aggressive national awareness campaigns to teach people how to identify fake drugs, report suspicious sources, and verify prescriptions. Crucially, Kenya must repair public trust — not just in the pills on pharmacy shelves, but in the very systems meant to safeguard their health. Because when faith in medicine collapses, people don’t stop getting sick — they just stop getting help. This is more than a regulatory failure. It’s a national health emergency — and one that cannot be ignored.

References:

The Eastleigh Voice Inside Kenya’s battle against fake and unsafe medicines

Eurek Alert Curbing harmful medicines: the promise of a unified African health products regulatory system

OECD Dangerous Fakes


Decoding Elimu Thabiti: Is Kenya’s Education Truly Improved?

Posted on by

In April 2025, the Kenyan government did what governments often do when the heat rises — it rebranded. Out went the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC), in came Competency-Based Education (CBE), now dubbed Elimu Thabiti — “Stable Education.” On the surface, it looked like a smart communications reset: streamline the curriculum, simplify delivery, calm public fears, and signal that Kenya’s education reform is finally maturing. But under the hood, the same unresolved problems are festering — and threatening to derail the system again. A new name hasn’t solved the deep cracks in Kenya’s education foundation: from underfunded schools and frustrated teachers, to digital inequalities and mismanaged infrastructure. The education sector is being reshaped with bold promises — but very few of the tools needed to make those promises real.

A Report by TV47 Kenya

Let’s talk numbers. While the Teachers Service Commission boasts about retooling 291,000 educators, independent research in 2025 shows two-thirds of teachers say they haven’t been adequately trained for CBE. Many still rely on the old 8-4-4 methods. Worse, over 343,000 trained teachers remain jobless while schools face a 72,000-strong staff shortage in Junior Secondary School alone. Promotion pathways are clogged, hardship allowances may be cut, and morale is low. Now layer that on top of infrastructure demands: the new “pathway model” for senior schools, launching fully in 2026, demands schools be categorized as “Triple Pathway” or “Double Pathway” — meaning massive upgrades to labs, sports halls, art studios, and digital infrastructure. And while the government talks about progress, the Auditor-General is flagging KSh 6 billion in irregular spending from previous education projects. What’s the point of planning a digital classroom if half the schools don’t even have functioning toilets?

And here’s the financial kicker: schools are still owed over KSh 64 billion in capitation arrears. As of May 2025, the promised Sh21 billion had yet to arrive. Headteachers are being fined Sh500 per project for late CBC/KJSEA submissions — even though many schools have no internet access or computers to begin with. Meanwhile, a flashy new KEAC Bill proposes AI exam grading and electronic assessment. Great on paper, but in classrooms across ASAL regions, basic digital literacy is still below 50%. While Finland’s President arrives with hope and MoUs to support Kenyan education, the shadow of the Uasin Gishu scholarship scandal still looms large. Education reform can’t run on optics alone. Kenya doesn’t need another slogan. It needs teachers who are paid and trained, capitation that arrives on time, classrooms that work — and honesty about just how deep the overhaul must go. If Elimu Thabiti is going to be more than a PR stunt, it has to fix the pipes — not just polish the tap.

References:

The Star MPs Raise Concern Over Zero Budget Allocation for KCSE, JSS Exams

The Eastleigh Voice Budget cuts jeopardise education for millions as key programmes struggle with shortfalls

The Eastleigh Voice CS Mbadi: KCSE funds frozen over misuse, but parents won’t pay

KBC Kenya, Finland sign deals to boost ties in peace, education

The Standard Kenya and Finland forge strategic partnership


Government’s Bold Move: Leasing Sugar Factories in Kenya

Posted on by

Kenya just handed over four of its biggest sugar factories — but kept the land. In a dramatic policy shift, the Ruto administration signed 30-year leases in May 2025 with private firms to run Nzoia, Chemelil, Muhoroni, and Sony Sugar. The goal? End decades of sugar sector chaos: collapsed factories, billions in unpaid debts, unpaid workers, and cheap imports undercutting farmers. Agriculture CS Mutahi Kagwe says this isn’t privatization — it’s “strategic leasing,” with public ownership preserved and billions in arrears cleared to give the new operators a clean start. Big names like Jaswant Rai’s West Kenya Sugar and Kibos Sugar are now in charge — and they’re expected to invest heavily. But not everyone’s cheering.

A Report by NTV Kenya

Local leaders are furious. Kisumu’s Governor Anyang’ Nyong’o is calling foul, slamming the deals as opaque, exclusionary, and a threat to community-owned land. At Chemelil and Nzoia, workers are protesting over unpaid wages, job security, and fears that private operators will trample their rights. Farmers worry about price manipulation and monopolies. And watchdogs are questioning the wisdom of the government wiping out billions in past debts — on taxpayers’ backs — without clear guarantees of public return. The Auditor General has already flagged risks to the Commodities Fund. If this feels familiar, it’s because Kenya’s SOE reform playbook hasn’t changed much in decades: bold plans, shaky execution, and the ever-present risk of insider deals dressed up as national progress.

Still — if the government gets this right — it could turn a rotting industry into a competitive, tech-upgraded, farmer-friendly economic engine. But it won’t happen without airtight oversight, crystal-clear contracts, local accountability, and a serious break from past mistakes. Leasing might be smarter than selling — but only if it comes with more transparency than politics usually allows.

References:

The Standard Nyong’o opposes the government’s plans to lease sugar mills

The Eastleigh Voice Government leases four state-owned sugar mills to private firms for 30 years

Business Daily Workers oppose Chemelil sugar factory lease plans

The Star Sugarcane farmers welcome move to lease sugar firms

All Africa Kenya: High Court Dismisses Petition Against Leasing of State-Owned Sugar Farms