One morning in Dar es Salaam, a radio host shared a story so funny that the studio burst into laughter. A man hurried onto a dala dala (Matatu), eager to reach town and see his sick mother, but he had no money. Each time the conductor asked for fare, he calmly said he would pay soon. As the vehicle slowed near a cemetery, the man got off and ran between the graves. The conductor chased him quickly and angrily. Suddenly, the man stopped, knelt beside a grave, pointed back, and loudly cried, “Bwana eh, sikupata watu wawili, lakini mmoja huyu hapa.” I did not find two people, but one is right here. The conductor froze, then turned and sprinted back to the bus faster than he had chased him. The passenger disappeared, smiling. It was a comedy. It was also a lesson.
That’s how leakage happens. Value slips away as everyone puts off facing the uncomfortable truth. By the time we realize it, it has vanished into places we’re afraid to follow.
Kenya is not broke. Kenya is leaking. We lose water, food, and infrastructure value every day, then call it the pain of scarcity. Official water sector data shows that non-revenue water in many utilities averages about forty percent. Nearly two jerrycans disappear for every four produced. Regarding food, international and regional assessments consistently report post-harvest losses of up to forty percent for staples and fresh produce in low- and middle-income countries. In Kenya, this loss occurs alongside millions of food-insecure citizens. What leaks away is not just theory. It is meals, incomes, and dignity.
There is a deeper issue we seldom confront. When I served as Chair of the Kenya Water Towers Agency, national assessments revealed that roughly 60% of the boreholes drilled since independence were not operational. Water is available underground, yet we continue drilling new ones. Public funds are wasted twice on the same resource, first to locate it, then to find it again. This isn’t a water shortage; it’s a failure in maintenance and accountability.
The same pattern occurs with dams. Many small dam sites were identified decades ago but never developed. Meanwhile, we pursue large projects that can take years to complete. One large dam could serve millions someday, while a small community dam can help a village today. Leakage also wastes time and resources.
Walking through a market at closing time reveals it: food waste, rising prices, farmers discouraged. Leaks undermine effort and promote waste. No wonder FAO reports that Kenya loses about KSh 72 billion worth of food each year before it can be eaten, even as millions go hungry.
This issue is important worldwide. Water and food losses, along with abandoned assets, quietly and consistently hinder growth more effectively than shocks do. Prosperous cities and nations initially focus on conserving what they already have. They fix leaks, measure continuously, and prioritize discipline before expanding their supply.
The disruption Kenya needs is simple and deep. Stop expanding before we retain. Make leakage reduction a national performance measure. Publish losses. Reward utilities, counties, and institutions that cut them. Treat fixing leaks and restoring boreholes as job creation, not austerity. Protect harvests through storage, aggregation, and logistics so farmers earn what they grow. Prioritize many small, quick water solutions alongside the large ones.
Citizens have a role: report leaks, guard shared assets, and store food better. Demand performance, not promises. Leaders have a duty to prioritize maintenance over monuments and retention before expansion.
Here’s the wisdom we need to remember. What’s saved isn’t a missed opportunity; it’s real money we’ve earned and chosen to keep. Before asking Kenyans to pay higher taxes or take on extra loans, we must first stop losing money like the Dar es Salaam dala dala conductor, only to see value disappear.
A nation that cannot sustain its water and food resources cannot secure its future. Think Green, Act Green.
