The late Mzee Joseph Masyuko from Kilungu once told us about a village mate who could join any fight he came across on the road home. The moment he saw dust rising and heard men shouting, he took off his shirt and plunged into the scuffle. When asked why, he said there was no need to look for a new fight when one was already in progress. That story may sound funny until you think about Kenya and the latest Middle East oil shock. We must not be that man.
The latest reports suggest not a settled peace but a fragile pause. News reports that Iran says the Strait of Hormuz is open to commercial vessels during a U.S.-brokered ten-day truce, yet serious differences remain between Tehran and Washington. Iran says keeping the strait open depends on adherence to ceasefire terms. The U.S. Energy Information Administration reports that 20 million barrels a day passed through Hormuz in 2024, about 20 percent of global petroleum liquids consumption. This is not peace. It is a pause.
And Kenya has already felt the pain. Energy regulators sharply raised retail fuel prices this week after the Middle East conflict drove up the cost of imported fuel, even though Kenya still imports nearly all its fuel from the region. That is how a war thousands of kilometers away enters the boda boda fare, the food bill, the matatu stage, the factory gate, the fishing boat, the school run, and the kitchen. Indeed, oil shocks do not stay in oil; they become inflation.
For more than three decades, I have argued that Africa must stop living at the mercy of other people’s energy quarrels. In my book Green for Life, I make it clear that Africa needs a comprehensive renewable energy approach built around solar, wind, and geothermal, with lower electricity costs. I also write that I have fought all my adult life for Africa to embrace clean, green energy intelligently to protect energy security, not blindly, but to replace vulnerability with strategy.
Kenya is better positioned than many countries to lead this shift. Our energy regulator reports that renewable sources supplied about 79 percent of electricity delivered to the national grid in the second half of 2025, led by geothermal at about 40 percent, hydro at 22 percent, wind at about 13 percent, and solar at around 3 percent. We are therefore not starting from zero but standing on a launchpad.
This raises the big question: what must policymakers do now, rather than wait for the next oil panic? Here is my take. First, treat electric mobility as industrial policy, not a fashion trend. Support electric buses, motorcycles, and charging corridors on the busiest urban and freight routes. Secondly, accelerate geothermal, solar, storage, and transmission so cheaper electricity reaches farms, factories, and homes. Thirdly, sensibly stimulate local fuel substitutes. In my book, I recount our jatropha and biodiesel struggle and insist that biofuels must never create food insecurity. That means focusing on nonfood feedstocks, waste streams, and dryland crops in the right ecological zones. Fourthly, make every public institution a rooftop solar and efficiency program, and fifth, make commuter rail, bus rapid transit, and walkable cities part of energy security.
Yes, the public matters too. We must choose efficiency over status and rely on reliable public transportation whenever we can. We should, whenever possible, embrace clean cooking, solar water pumps, rooftop solar, and local value chains that reduce diesel use. Real energy patriotism means backing choices that keep Kenyan money in Kenya before the next oil scare hits.
Our current crisis can become our springboard. Seeking World Bank support is temporary. The ultimate solution is a well-thought-out policy intervention, as stated in my Green for Life.Honestly, Kenya must not take off its shirt and jump into every foreign fight. A wise nation uses the noise of another man’s battle to build its own power at home. Think green, act green!
