This past week, we have had at least three moments of reflection. In the same short week, we have celebrated Madaraka Day, the day we attained the power to rule ourselves; the World Environment Day, set aside by the United Nations to inspire action to the protect our climate; and Eid-al-Adha, the Muslim celebration honouring the spirit of sacrifice and obedience of Prophet Ibrahim (Abraham).
Amid these commemorations, I have reflected deeply on what I see as the silent struggle sweeping across almost every Kenyan home today — the pressing burden of the cost of living.
Just a year ago this month, the same pressure erupted into the streets, led largely by young Kenyans who dared to say, “We matter too.” They used the Finance Bill 2024 as the lynchpin for the unprecedented protests that eventually killed the bill. The demonstrations may have faded from our screens, but the discontent remains alive and well — in questions whispered on morning commutes, echoed in job queues, and muttered over plates growing ever emptier. And on the ‘streets’ of X and Tiktok, where angry trends and stubborn hashtags are the new stock in trade.
The government has tabled the fertilizer subsidies, the Hustler Fund, efforts to operationalize the healthcare program, and recent moves to rationalise government spending, as evidence that it is not all doom and gloom. And indeed, there is no denying that if all these efforts were to be followed through and transparently executed, they would go a long way in alleviating the suffering of Kenyans.
But even then, let us be clear: progress is not the same as prosperity. In May 2025, Kenya’s inflation rate was reported to be 6.8%, with food prices increasing by nearly 9% compared to the same period last year. A 2 kg packet of unga still hovers above Ksh 160, fuel prices remain volatile, and household electricity is unaffordable for many. Our youth unemployment rate remains painfully high, over 60% of Kenyans under the age of 35 are either jobless or underemployed. This is not just data; it is national distress.
So, what must we do to change this?
First, we must depoliticize the crisis. The cost of living does not discriminate by party affiliation, ethnicity, or region. Hunger is not partisan. Electricity bills do not recognise political manifestos. Let us resist the temptation to turn every economic issue into a tribal or political battlefield. This does mean absolving leaders of their political responsibilities. It is actually rising beyond partisan politics to deal with the real issues, at every level of government.
We must adopt what I call the giraffe’s perspective — the ability to rise above the noise, stay steady in storms, and see beyond today’s pain into tomorrow’s promise. From that vantage point, one sees that if we plant the right seeds now — in policy, transparency, and leadership — the harvest will nourish generations.
Secondly, we must rethink our national priorities. Food and medicine should never be taxed at the same rate as luxury goods. Why can’t we drastically lower VAT on basic commodities, restructure energy pricing and provide public transport subsidies in urban centers? Why can’t we expand school feeding programs through county governments and reinvest in food production zones closer to consumption centers?
Imagine a Kenya where every child enjoys a hot school lunch. Where mothers no longer have to choose between medicine and meals. Where our young people farm with technology, earn with dignity, and build with pride. I believe this is not asking too much to of our country more than 60 years since it attained self-rule.
As we approach the first anniversary of the June 25th, let us remember that the young people who marched on the streets on that fateful day are still here. They are watching, they are waiting. Shall we rise to the occasion, or fall back on the beaten path? Think Green. Act Green!
