Six years ago, a close friend shared a story I once mentioned in this column, and I have never forgotten it. He was walking at dusk with his dog, Kivungo, along a quiet rural path when the animal suddenly froze. Without hesitation, Kivungo dashed into a nearby thicket. Moments later, he returned, circling urgently and barking insistently, so even though his owner had no idea what was happening, his urgency made him flee too from danger that had not yet revealed itself. Kivungo did not run away in panic. He moved forward, assessed the situation, and came back with clarity. His urgency was not out of fear. It was a sense of responsibility.
In my view, Kenya today stands at a similar crossroads.
We talk often about economic inflation, the rising cost of food, fuel and school fees. But there is another inflation growing faster and more quietly. I call it emotional inflation. Anger is rising. Anxiety is rising. Hopelessness is spreading. Suspicion is hardening. Yet productivity is not rising with it.
When emotion overtakes opportunity, a nation overheats.
The Rush to Russia story should not only shock us but also awaken us. Reports indicate that over a thousand Kenyans were recruited into the Russia-Ukraine war, many believing it was ordinary work. Some returned injured, while others are missing. This is more than foreign policy; it concerns dignity. When a young Kenyan perceives more opportunity on a battlefield than in a local job, it signals something deeply out of sync.
The story goes beyond Kenya. The 2024 African Youth Survey, conducted across 16 African countries, revealed that nearly 60% of young Africans would leave the continent if they had the chance. In Kenya specifically, about three-quarters of the youth surveyed said they want to emigrate. Picture ten recent graduates standing outside a university gate. Seven are mentally preparing to leave. That is not migration. No. We are exporting hope!
Now reflect on our digital age. Kenya has over twenty-seven million internet users and more than fifteen million social media accounts. Our screens broadcast conflict, luxury, and outrage in real time. It is revealing that we now question whether our children are safe growing up online. When attention never pauses and comparison is constant, emotions fluctuate. A perpetually stimulated society finds it hard to remain stable.
In my view, this is our contradiction. We are a young nation with land, sun, water, and creativity, yet we feel stuck. We talk a lot but organize little. We trend loudly but build quietly. Emotional inflation is therefore not weakness; it is energy without direction.
The solution to this emotional inflation is organized stabilization.
When financial systems combat economic inflation, they tighten excess liquidity, restore confidence, and redirect capital into productive sectors. The same discipline applies here.
First, we need to lower the emotional heat. Protect your focus. Spend less time dwelling on outrage. Excess emotion clouds judgment, just like too much money can weaken a currency.
Second, we must rebuild trust. Keep your word. Pay on time. Reward effort fairly. Enforce rules without favor. Confidence is what steadies a nation when emotions begin to shake it.
Third, we must turn energy into work. Transition from crowds to crews. Join hands, not just hashtags. Build something that pays. Counties should open idle land and supply water by any means so youth can produce. National leadership must remove the roadblocks and make building a business easier than booking a ticket out.
Leadership is about responsibility. Campaigns may win power, but governance builds nations, and no country can stay in campaign mode forever. Our young men are not reckless; they are restless. Without guidance, that restlessness becomes risk. With organization, it becomes reform. Kivungo’s lesson was simple: when danger approaches, do not run away. Step forward. Evaluate. Act. Nature has already done its part. The question is whether we will do ours. Think green. Act green.
