There is a story from a small village in Kiambu County that has stayed on my mind. A rumor spread on WhatsApp that a nearby dam had cracked and would burst within hours. Within 30 minutes, nearly 700 people evacuated their homes, carrying children, mattresses, and whatever else they could grab. Only later did it become clear that the message originated outside Kenya, created by someone who has never set foot in that village and has never met the people whose lives he disrupted. One false message shook an entire community.
This is the world we live in now. A world where a stranger thousands of miles away can reach the emotions of Kenyans faster than our closest friends. A world where truth can be fabricated, weaponized, and delivered at the speed of light. A world where Kenya’s greatest vulnerability is no longer just along our physical borders but also in the phones we hold in our hands.
I watched recent CNN reports showing how political debates in the U.S. are influenced by anonymous foreign accounts spreading emotional content. Still, this issue isn’t just American; it’s a worldwide concern. If countries with trillion-dollar economies can be manipulated secretly online, I wondered, how much more should developing nations like ours stay vigilant?
Kenya has already experienced this danger. Over the past year, digitally altered audios mimicking senior national leaders circulated on social media. Many believed them. Some became fearful. Others grew angry. The truth is that our emotions, peace, and unity can be disturbed by people who may never set foot on African soil. This is why we must start protecting our digital landscape with the same seriousness as we do our forests, rivers, and wildlife.
Research shows that eighty-three percent of Kenyans now get their news mainly through social media. Nearly half find it hard to tell truth from falsehood online. At the same time, global studies show that false information spreads six times faster than real news. When you consider Kenya’s young population and high smartphone use, you see that the fight for our minds has already started.
Yet, there is hope. The solution starts with each of us. In my book *Green for Life*, I introduce the MPR Green Impact Lens, a tool for everyday living. We can now use it to guide our digital behavior. Each day, you’re likely to come across messages that might be based on mistakes. You also have moments to stop problems by refusing to forward harmful rumors. Additionally, you can show respect to others by protecting them from digital poison. Before forwarding anything, take your MPR moment. Ask yourself: is this a mistake, will it cause or solve a problem, and does forwarding it show respect?
As a nation, we must also strengthen our defenses. Kenya needs a Digital Integrity Taskforce that brings together the Communications Authority, IEBC, Media Council, KNBS, youth leaders, and faith communities. Our schools should teach digital citizenship as confidently as they teach mathematics. Our faith leaders should remind us that forwarding falsehoods is a form of stealing because you steal the peace of others. Our families should also have honest conversations about what we receive and share.
To support this, I propose a straightforward national pledge called the Green Truth Pledge. It states: I will not share anything I can’t verify. I will defend my country from digital threats. I will use my phone to inspire hope, not spread fear. Imagine a nation where millions live by this principle.
Ultimately, the question is simple. When history looks back at our messages, will it say we stood for the truth or helped destroy it? As we approach the next general elections and beyond, the battle for Kenya’s mind has already begun. Let us choose to fight for truth, unity, and a hopeful future. Think Green, Act Green.


