Kenya’s Circularity Roadmap — Building the Hybrid System That Can Finally Break the Plastic Cycle

Kenya’s plastic crisis will not be solved by a single breakthrough, a single technology, or a single policy decree. If the past four posts have made anything clear, it is that this challenge is multi-layered — social, economic, technological, institutional — and requires a system far more sophisticated than anything the country has attempted so far. Mechanical recycling alone cannot handle the volume or complexity of the waste stream. Enzymatic recycling promises high-value transformation but depends on disciplined feedstock management and purposeful capital. Pyrolysis offers a pathway for Kenya’s dirtiest plastics, but only if environmental oversight becomes a non-negotiable pillar of implementation. And behind all of it stands the human backbone of Kenya’s recycling economy: the informal waste pickers whose labour determines whether any of these systems succeed or fail. The future Kenya wants — clean cities, competitive green industries, dignified work, and reduced dependence on virgin petrochemicals — will require a hybrid circularity model capable of integrating all these components without allowing any one of them to cannibalize the rest.

At the center of this roadmap is a quiet revolution in sorting and digital traceability — the infrastructure Kenya has never fully built. Without accurate sorting, mechanical recycling loses efficiency, enzymatic systems lose purity, and pyrolysis loses economic viability. High-tech optical sorters, digital barcoding, blockchain-driven EPR registries, and AI-enabled materials classification systems are no longer luxuries; they are foundational to a modern circular economy. Countries that have mastered these — from South Korea to France — have done so by centralizing oversight, enforcing producer responsibility, and investing heavily in data-first waste systems. Kenya’s EPR regulations are a promising start, but they require real teeth: mandatory reporting, enforceable purchase obligations for recycled content, non-negotiable penalties for non-compliance, and transparent digital dashboards accessible to the public. Anything less risks turning EPR into another policy with impressive language but weak outcomes.

What Kenya builds over the next five years will determine whether the nation becomes a continental leader in green industrialization or remains trapped in a costly cycle of environmental degradation and lost economic opportunity. The roadmap is clear:
• Mechanical recycling must continue as the backbone for high-volume, easily recoverable plastics.
• Enzymatic recycling should anchor Kenya’s entry into premium circular markets — producing high-grade rPET for export and high-value manufacturing.
• Advanced pyrolysis should be deployed cautiously, strategically, and only under strict regulatory regimes to handle non-recyclable residues.
• Waste pickers must be formalized, protected, and integrated into digital systems that guarantee stable income, health protections, and training.
• Municipalities must build modern MRFs, supervised by independent bodies with zero political interference.
• Financing must be blended — public, private, philanthropic — to derisk innovation and scale responsibly.
If Kenya commits to these pillars, it can escape the linear waste economy and construct a circular system that is clean, fair, profitable, and future-ready.
If it fails, the country will remain stuck in a loop where every new solution dies under the weight of the same old structural weaknesses.

References:

Kenya Plastics Pact Kenya Plastics Pact & WWF-Kenya Drive Plastic Recycling Efforts Amid EPR Implementation

The Star Tackling pollution: How Murang’a engineer is converting plastic waste into clean fuel

Africa News Nairobi-based Company Turns Plastic Waste into Eco-Friendly Bricks

Kenya News Agency Converting Plastic Waste into Building Materials

The National Council for Law Reporting The Sustainable Waste Management (Extended Producer Responsibility) Regulations

Kenya Plastics Pact Kenya Plastics Pact Commits to Combat Plastic Pollution and Support the Implementation of Extended Producer Responsibility in Kenya

Advanced Pyrolysis — Kenya’s High-Risk, High-Reward Gamble in the Battle for Plastic Circularity

After dissecting Kenya’s plastic paradox, amplifying the struggle of waste pickers, and spotlighting the promise of enzymatic recycling, we now turn to one of the most contested technologies in the global waste-to-value conversation: Advanced Pyrolysis. This is the method frequently hailed as the “missing link” for non-recyclable plastics — yet equally criticized for being expensive, energy-hungry, and easily corrupted by weak regulation. And for a country like Kenya, staring at overflowing dumpsites and facing rising global pressure to meet circularity targets, pyrolysis represents both a thrilling opportunity and a dangerous temptation.
The stakes here are far more complex than in enzymatic or mechanical recycling, because pyrolysis operates at the intersection of energy policy, industrial chemistry, geopolitics, and climate governance — a mix Kenya has historically struggled to reconcile coherently.

At its core, advanced pyrolysis breaks down hard-to-recycle plastics — LDPE, HDPE, PP, multi-layer laminates — by heating them in oxygen-free reactors, converting them into fuels, naphtha, waxes, or feedstock oils that can re-enter petrochemical production. In theory, this allows Kenya to tap into the vast volumes of low-value plastic that currently have no market and end up burned, buried, or blown into rivers. It offers a potential pathway to energy diversification at a time when fuel costs continue to shake households and industries. And it carries significant economic upside if Kenya positions itself as a regional hub for circular petrochemicals in East Africa.
But the discipline required to execute pyrolysis safely, profitably, and sustainably is far greater than what Kenya’s current plastic waste governance demonstrates. The technology demands consistent feedstock, stable power, advanced emission control systems, certified output testing, and rigorous oversight — factors that have caused even advanced economies to sabotage their own pyrolysis pilots when shortcuts were taken.

This is why pyrolysis is both a strategic advantage and a national vulnerability. If Kenya rushes into pyrolysis without robust environmental regulation, credible emissions monitoring, and a clear economic model that avoids underpricing waste picker feedstock, the country risks creating a new version of the same inequities we are trying to solve — except now, with industrial smokestacks attached. Yet if Kenya gets the sequencing right — establishing strict standards, blending public financing with private risk capital, creating transparent PET/PO feedstock corridors, and placing waste pickers at the center of value creation — pyrolysis could complement enzymatic recycling and cement Kenya’s position as a regional circular economy powerhouse.
The question, then, is not whether pyrolysis works. The question is whether Kenya can adopt it responsibly — without repeating the extractive, opaque, poorly regulated industrial patterns that have crippled other sectors before.
Because the truth is simple: pyrolysis is not a shortcut. It is a stress test of Kenya’s capacity to govern the future.

References:

The Star Tackling pollution: How Murang’a engineer is converting plastic waste into clean fuel

Kenya News Agency Engineer develops certified diesel from plastic waste

The Star Ambitious Murang’a man invents trailblazing fuel blends from plastic waste

Business Daily ICDC invests Sh420m in firm that converts plastic waste into energy

The Guardian Shell quietly backs away from pledge to increase ‘advanced recycling’ of plastics

Borderless Pyrolysis under fire: Environmental and health concerns cast doubt on “miracle” technology

Africa News The Kenyan entrepreneur turning plastic to fuel

Enzymatic Recycling – The Quiet Revolution Kenya Cannot Afford to Ignore

Over the past few weeks, we have peeled back the layers of Kenya’s mounting plastic crisis — first exposing the sheer scale of the waste paradox, then spotlighting the invisible army of waste pickers who keep the nation from sinking under the weight of its own plastic footprint. We have seen how Kenya generates nearly a million tonnes of plastic waste annually, recycles barely a sliver of it, and loses billions of shillings in potential value every year. We have examined how policy inconsistencies, corporate inertia, inadequate infrastructure, and unreliable collection systems have turned plastic waste into a slow, suffocating national emergency. And we have confronted a deeper truth: without the sweat and resilience of waste pickers — the 50,000+ individuals who recover up to 80 percent of all recycled material — Kenya’s recycling ecosystem would simply collapse. These workers, despite being the backbone of the system, remain underpaid, undervalued, and largely ignored by the institutions and corporations whose sustainability targets are built on their unpaid labour.

But beneath this crisis sits an extraordinary opportunity — one that demands a level of boldness Kenya has not yet shown. As the world races toward higher recycled-content mandates and rising climate accountability, a technological shift is underway that could fundamentally reshape how countries handle plastic waste. At the center of this shift is Enzymatic Recycling, one of the most promising innovations in the global circular economy. While traditional mechanical recycling breaks plastic down into lower-quality materials and pyrolysis turns polyolefins into fuel, enzymatic recycling does something radically different: it breaks PET down to its original chemical components, producing a virgin-grade resin indistinguishable from newly manufactured plastic. This isn’t theory — global companies in France, Japan, and the U.S. are scaling it right now, licensing it, and preparing for a long-term transition into fully circular supply chains.

For Kenya, this technology strikes at the heart of its most stubborn problem: the mismatch between overwhelming PET waste and chronic shortages of high-quality recycled PET (rPET) demanded by beverage brands, manufacturers, and exporters. Enzymatic recycling thrives where other systems fail — on dirty, colored, low-grade, and mixed PET. This means that the very materials now rotting in landfills, choking waterways, and being burned in open dumpsites suddenly gain new life and new value. Instead of needing pristine separation, this method can convert even the most degraded PET into premium-quality monomers. It removes the need for energy-intensive re-melting, reduces carbon emissions, and operates at lower temperatures — which translates to lower costs and the ability to deploy modular plants even in emerging markets. It is the rare technology that aligns environmental necessity with economic logic.

But let us be clear: having the technology is not enough. Kenya stands at a crossroads, and the window of opportunity is already narrowing as global demand for rPET continues to spike. To truly capitalize on enzymatic recycling, Kenya must orchestrate a coordinated shift across policy, capital, and human infrastructure. Waste pickers must be formally integrated into feedstock systems, paid fairly, trained, and recognized as skilled operators whose hands determine the purity and volume of incoming materials. Government must enforce Extended Producer Responsibility rules — not as paperwork exercises, but as binding obligations that push brands to fund collection, invest in sorting, and purchase recycled output. Investors must be willing to support hybrid pilot plants through blended finance that de-risks early adoption. And manufacturers must commit to buying locally produced monomers rather than defaulting to cheaper imports that undermine domestic circularity.

If even one of these pillars falls out of alignment, Kenya risks missing a transformative opportunity. But if they converge — if Kenya dares to lead rather than follow — the country could redefine its relationship with plastic waste entirely. Enzymatic recycling could become the anchor of a new green industrial economy: cleaner cities, formalized workforces, new manufacturing value chains, reduced imports, and a strong foothold in the global circular transition. This is more than a technological breakthrough. It is a chance for Kenya to flip its plastic crisis into economic power, environmental resilience, and social justice — all at once.

References:

RSC Sustainability Innovative recycling strategies for non-recycled plastics: advancing the circular economy for a sustainable future

MDPI Biocatalytic Recycling of Polyethylene Terephthalate: From Conventional to Innovative Routes for Transforming Plastic and Textile Waste into Renewable Resources

GreenPeace New documentary exposes recycling fallacy and health impacts of plastic pollution on Kenya’s waste workers

Kenya News Agency  From waste to gold: How plastic recycling is changing lives

The East African Plastic, plastic everywhere but not for African recyclers

Kenya Plastics Pact Kenya Plastics Pact & WWF-Kenya Drive Plastic Recycling Efforts Amid EPR Implementation

The Star Kenya launches pioneer project to protect waste pickers

Capital News Kenya Launches Responsible Sourcing Drive to Protect Waste Pickers

Empowering Kenya’s Informal Waste Pickers for a Sustainable Future

Long before policymakers coined terms like “Extended Producer Responsibility” or “circular economy,” Kenya’s informal waste pickers were already living that reality — only without recognition, protection, or pay equity. Every dawn, thousands of men and women descend upon dumpsites from Dandora to Mombasa, armed with hooks, sacks, and unmatched resilience. They are the invisible workforce behind the country’s fragile recycling system, recovering up to 80 percent of all plastics that ever get recycled. Yet, despite this colossal contribution, their average earnings remain trapped between KSh 30–50 per kilogram, with no health insurance, no stable contracts, and little policy voice. It’s a moral contradiction and an economic inefficiency rolled into one: the very people enabling Kenya’s environmental survival are surviving on its margins. The system is built on their sweat, but not their dignity.

The irony deepens when you follow the plastic’s trail. Once the pickers sell to small middlemen, the material ascends through aggregation points — like Mr. Green Africa’s sorting hubs — and ends up feeding multinational supply chains that boast of “sustainable sourcing.” At every stage, the profit margins grow — except for the people who initiate the cycle. Yet without these workers, Kenya’s plastic waste problem would quadruple overnight. Their local intelligence — knowing which streets yield high-value PET, which neighborhoods mix organics with plastics — is the kind of human data even the best AI sorting systems can’t replicate. In cities like Nairobi, where waste management systems are perpetually underfunded, informal networks fill the void that government institutions have left wide open. The question isn’t whether they matter; it’s whether we’ll ever pay them like they do.

To unlock Kenya’s circular future, policymakers must stop treating informal pickers as peripheral players and start embedding them in the national waste economy. That means formal recognition, access to microfinance, integration into municipal contracts, and training to adapt to upcoming high-tech recycling plants. When hybrid models like enzymatic recycling and pyrolysis eventually take root, the quality of feedstock — clean, segregated plastics — will be the single biggest success factor. And who’s best positioned to ensure that? The same waste pickers who’ve been sorting Kenya’s chaos by hand for decades. Investing in their safety, tools, and professionalization isn’t charity — it’s infrastructure. The day we place their expertise at the center of policy, Kenya’s recycling revolution will finally have the spine it needs.

References:

Africa News Nairobi-based Company Turns Plastic Waste into Eco-Friendly Bricks

The Standard Program to address welfare of Kenyan waste pickers starts

Daily Nation Kenya picked to lead Africa’s plastic waste revolution

WWF Lifetime cost of plastic 10 times higher for low-income countries than rich ones, revealing crippling inequities in plastics value chain

Heinrich Böll Stiftung Garbage collectors who are treated like trash

Daily Nation It is a struggle for recognition and inclusivity

Three Genie Wishes for Kenyans

You have three magic genie wishes, what are you asking for?

🧠 Wish One: The Wisdom to Code with Conscience

May Kenya’s AI rise not as a ruler, but as a reflection of our better selves.
May we build algorithms that see citizens — not profiles, not probabilities.
Let data serve dignity, not dominate it.
For in the age of automation, the greatest innovation will still be empathy.

🔐 Wish Two: The Courage to Guard Our Digital Soul

May every Kenyan know that privacy is not paranoia — it is power.
May our laws protect not just servers and systems, but stories and selves.
Let data ownership become a national value — like land, language, or liberty.
And when convenience tempts us to trade our freedoms for ease, may we remember: once data is lost, democracy follows.

🌍 Wish Three: The Unity to Humanize the Machine

May Kenya’s digital tomorrow be built by all, not a few.
May innovators, regulators, and citizens speak one ethical language — accountability.
Let no algorithm decide without explanation, and no system evolve without oversight.
For the republic’s next constitution may not be written in law — but in code.
May we write it with care, courage, and conscience.

Comparative Impact & Ripple Effects — When Instability Becomes the Economy

Kenya’s twin crises in education and health now mirror each other so perfectly that they read like two halves of the same systemic failure. In both sectors, the story begins with noble ideals and ends in bureaucratic betrayal. Teachers denied promotions for years and doctors left unpaid for months are not victims of isolated lapses — they are casualties of a governance structure that treats agreements as aspirational and accountability as negotiable. What began as labor unrest has evolved into a chronic condition, one that corrodes morale, erodes professional standards, and undermines the country’s developmental spine. When classrooms and hospitals — the two pillars of human capital — falter simultaneously, the result is not just administrative paralysis; it is a national identity crisis. These strikes expose Kenya’s deepest institutional flaw: a state that signs social contracts it refuses to honor, and in doing so, normalizes dysfunction as policy.

The ripple effects stretch far beyond picket lines. Every unfulfilled CBA or stalled negotiation accelerates a quiet exodus — of talent, trust, and taxpayers — toward private alternatives. Parents turning to private schools and clinics are not exercising choice; they are fleeing collapse. What was once a temporary workaround has become a permanent migration, where education and healthcare are increasingly determined not by citizenship but by income. The rise of digital substitutes — telemedicine, e-learning platforms, private tutoring, and subscription-based health services — signals a privatized survival economy emerging in the vacuum of public failure. While the elite can insulate themselves, the poor are trapped in decaying facilities where teachers are demoralized, and doctors are on strike. Devolution, meant to democratize access, has inadvertently decentralized neglect. As the public system withers, inequality becomes Kenya’s most stable institution.

The economic and social toll of this instability is staggering yet deliberately undercounted. Prolonged strikes shave months off learning calendars, deepen skills gaps, and delay the entry of professionals into the workforce. Health disruptions spike morbidity, drain productivity, and inflate private health costs. Each wave of unrest injects uncertainty into the investment climate, with labor volatility now ranking among Kenya’s top deterrents for both local and foreign investors. The human cost is equally severe: young teachers and medics — once the backbone of Kenya’s social mobility — are migrating en masse to stable economies like Germany, Canada, and Australia, seeking the professional dignity their homeland denied them. What remains is a hollow state: one where service delivery depends on judicial orders, governance runs on press statements, and citizens learn to survive outside the system meant to protect them. Unless Kenya rebuilds credibility at the intersection of policy, trust, and labor justice, instability will cease to be a crisis — it will become the economy itself.

References:

NTV Kenya What factors drive Kenya’s brain drain, and how can it be reversed? | Unpacked

The Conversation Kenyan doctors’ strike: the government keeps failing to hold up its end of the bargain

The Standard Strikes make life expensive, scare investors, experts tell Kenyans

Education Sector Stagnation — The Crisis Behind Kenya’s Classrooms

The crisis speaks to something more profound than missed promotions; it exposes a deliberate governance failure that prioritizes fiscal optics over human capital. The TSC’s inability to execute the agreed promotions has become emblematic of Kenya’s “paper promises” — deals inked and celebrated, then quietly buried when budgets tighten. Treasury allocations to the Commission repeatedly fall short of covering the wage and progression costs enshrined in signed CBAs. This chronic underfunding transforms legal agreements into empty gestures, leaving teachers to bear the brunt of political short-termism. The result is an education system running on disillusionment: educators forced to do more with less, students learning from underpaid, overworked instructors, and parents watching as quality erodes year after year.

Recent developments in higher education reveal that this dysfunction is not confined to basic learning. As of October 2025, the University of Nairobi (UoN) directed lecturers to resume work following a prolonged strike, acting on a court order that temporarily suspended the industrial action and mandated conciliation. The strike, spearheaded by academic unions including UASU, KUSU, and KUDHEIHA, centered on the government’s alleged failure to pay KSh 7.9 billion owed under the 2021–2025 Collective Bargaining Agreement — a claim contested by the Ministry of Education, which maintains that several payment tranches have already been released. The unions, however, insist that discrepancies persist and have demanded documentary proof such as payslips and audited records. This confrontation underscores a grim pattern: collective agreements, even when legally binding, are routinely undermined by bureaucratic opacity and political deflection. From teachers denied promotions to lecturers forced back to class under court order, the system thrives on compulsion rather than collaboration. When dialogue collapses into litigation and contractual rights depend on judicial enforcement rather than institutional integrity, it becomes clear that Kenya’s education crisis is no longer about money — it’s about the state’s eroding credibility. The country’s future is being taught by a workforce losing faith not just in their employer, but in the very promise of public service.

References:

Citizen Digital UoN directs lecturers to resume work on Monday amid ongoing strike

The Standard The Sh7.9 billion stalling university lecturers strike talks

Daily Nation Lecturers accuse SRC, universities of delay tactics over pay arrears

KTN News Kenya KUPPET demands promotion of over 130,000 teachers working under same job groups for many years.

Combatting Fraud in Kenya’s Tourism: A Growing Threat

Kenya’s tourism industry, a vital pillar of the economy and a top foreign exchange earner, is now battling a growing reputational threat: sophisticated fraud targeting unsuspecting travelers. According to the latest sector review, a surge in fake booking websites, impersonated tour operators, and fraudulent payment channels is eroding visitor trust and undermining the gains made in post-pandemic recovery. Many of these scams operate with alarming polish—using stolen branding, cloned websites, and even counterfeit licenses to lure victims into paying for non-existent safaris, hotel stays, or cultural tours. Victims, often diaspora Kenyans and international tourists planning high-value itineraries, only discover the deceit upon arrival, when their bookings prove fake and their funds unrecoverable. The Kenya Tourism Board (KTB) and sector associations have flagged these schemes as a systemic risk that, if unchecked, could tarnish Kenya’s image as a safe, reliable destination.

Industry stakeholders stress that the challenge is compounded by gaps in regulatory oversight, slow cross-border law enforcement cooperation, and limited consumer awareness in key source markets. Fraudsters exploit these vulnerabilities, targeting peak travel seasons and leveraging digital marketing channels to reach large audiences with minimal traceability. Tour operators report that such scams not only cause financial loss but also drive potential travelers toward competing destinations perceived as safer or better regulated. Its important to note that while Kenya’s tourism marketing campaigns have successfully reignited global interest, this momentum risks being reversed if fraud-related horror stories dominate travel forums and social media. Experts recommend a multi-pronged response: real-time verification systems for operators, a central registry of licensed tourism businesses accessible to the public, stronger digital fraud policing, and targeted awareness campaigns in both domestic and foreign markets.

To its credit, the government has begun aligning with these recommendations, with the Ministry of Tourism working alongside the Communications Authority, cybercrime units, and private-sector stakeholders to roll out verification platforms and consumer education drives. Pilots for an online “Tourism Trust Mark” are already underway, enabling travelers to authenticate operators before making payments. Additionally, diplomatic missions are being engaged to circulate fraud alerts in high-risk markets, while tourism associations are exploring partnerships with payment processors to flag suspicious transactions. These initiatives, if scaled and sustained, could restore confidence and reinforce Kenya’s brand as a secure, trustworthy destination. In an increasingly competitive global tourism landscape, safeguarding the integrity of the travel experience is no longer optional—it’s a prerequisite for growth. Kenya’s long-term competitiveness will hinge not just on the beauty of its landscapes, but on the trustworthiness of the path visitors take to reach them.

References:

Kenyans.co.ke DCI Arrest Suspect After Greek Tourist Loses Ksh3.6 Million in Maasai Mara Scam

Government of Canada Kenya travel advice

Action Fraud Kenya Romance Scam

Shian Safaris How to Avoid Being Conned on Your Travels in Kenya

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

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

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

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