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By Enock Matara

 

Teacher Daniel Mutai (in red) hands over a wheelchair to a young pupil in need, as fellow students look on with joy and support.

In the quiet morning light at Bomet Township Primary School, Daniel Mutai watched a small boy struggle to crawl across the dusty schoolyard. His knees were bruised, his hands also bruised from the hard ground. While other children moved about laughing and playing, this boy fought to get to class. That moment, Mutai says, changed his life. It wasn’t pity that moved him it was purpose, an urge arose and he felt the            responsibility to help the boy.

Daniel Mutai is not a wealthy man. He grew up in poverty, doing manual jobs to fund his education breaking stones and selling firewood just to afford books and school fees. The hardships of his childhood gave him something no money could buy, empathy, a virtue that not many people possess this day.  “I know what it feels like to be helpless,” he says. “That’s why I cannot walk away when I see someone else struggling.”

In 2007, as a newly employed teacher, Mutai met his first disabled student a boy whose wheelchair was falling apart. The school had no funds for a replacement, and the boy’s family couldn’t afford one. Without hesitation, Mutai out of his own pocket, bought a new wheelchair. That single act of kindness became the seed of a lifelong mission.

Over the years, he has donated more than 100 mobility aids wheelchairs, crutches, walking frames, and white canes to children and adults across the country. From Bomet to Narok, Kisii to Turkana, he has traveled by public transport, on foot, and on borrowed motorcycles to deliver these life changing gifts.

Some cases stay with him forever. He remembers a visit to Turkana where he met a boy who crawled over 3 kilometers to school every day, his knees raw from the rocks. A neighbor girl would carry him part of the way, but the rest he endured all on his own. “When I saw him,” Mutai says, “I broke down. No child should suffer like that just to learn.”

Mutai doesn’t have sponsors or a foundation with deep pockets at least not yet. He funds most of the work himself, sometimes taking small loans or asking friends for help. “There are days when I don’t have enough for my own family,” he admits, “but I still try to help someone else’s child.” His wife and children support his mission fully, even when it means tighter budgets at home. “They understand that the reward is bigger than money,” he smiles. “It’s in the joy on a child’s face when they sit in a wheelchair for the first time.”

Mutai’s selfless acts have started to gain attention. Local leaders in Bomet have recognized him. The Teachers Service Commission recently commended his work and offered him flexibility in his schedule to allow him to travel more for deliveries. He has also registered a community based organization to attract funding and expand his reach. He has a dream to build a mobility aid center in Bomet, where families from across the Rift Valley can come for free assistance, mobility devices and therapy. “I am just a teacher,” he says. “But I believe every teacher has a role beyond the classroom. We teach by what we do, not just what we say.

When asked of the story making headline of Teacher/Activist Albert Ojwang, he felt that a life cut short especially that of a teacher who shapes and prepares people for the real world was worrying. “life is sacred and should be respected irrespective of the person.” Mutai said.

In a society where disability often comes with stigma, shame, and isolation, Daniel Mutai is building bridges with wheels, one child at a time. He’s not a politician, not a celebrity just a man with a kind heart, strong hands, and an unshakable belief that every child deserves a chance to stand tall.

The boy who crawled into school now moves freely on his new wheels, laughing like other children, learning with dignity. And that, Mutai says, is enough to keep him going.

In Kenya, where stories of corruption and hardship dominate the headlines, Daniel Mutai is proof that true heroes still walk and sometimes, live among us. Indeed, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

 

By Joe Aura, aurajoe6@gmail.com

From historical defiance to Gen Z’s digital revolution, Kenya’s protests are louder, younger, and more daring than ever before.

Every year on July 7, Kenya commemorates Saba Saba – a day that once marked bloodied demands for democracy, but today stands as a symbol of resilience, reflection, and the rebirth of people power.

What began in 1990 as a courageous revolt against one-party rule has evolved into a generational relay — from the defiant voices of Matiba, Rubia, and Raila to the hashtag-fueled resistance of Gen Z. This article revisits the roots of the movement, the heroes and martyrs who shaped it, and how today’s youth are reclaiming the spirit of Saba Saba.

The Originals/O.G Era (1990s)

On July 7, 1990, under the suffocating grip of a de facto one-party state, thousands of Kenyans defied President Daniel arap Moi’s regime by gathering at Nairobi’s Kamukunji Grounds. Their demand was simple but dangerous: the return of multiparty democracy.

Political dissent was illegal. Press freedoms were nonexistent. And yet, opposition leaders Kenneth Matiba, Charles Rubia, and Jaramogi Oginga Odinga dared to imagine a freer Kenya. Even though Matiba and Rubia were arrested days before the rally, the protest ignited a fire that police brutality could not extinguish.

According to The Star, over 6,000 Kenyans were arrested, and more than 20 killed in Nairobi and across the country, following protests. That one day of courage shook the foundations of dictatorship. It eventually led to the repeal of Section 2A of the Constitution in 1991, reopening Kenya to multiparty politics.

The Resistance (2000s–2010s)

In the 2000s and 2010s, Kenya entered a new phase marked by both democratic reform and widespread disillusionment. Although multi-party democracy had been reinstated, the promise of accountable governance remained unfulfilled. Corruption flourished, elections were plagued by irregularities and violence, and public trust in institutions declined sharply. Opposition leader Raila Odinga emerged as the central figure in challenging the status quo, backed by civil society groups, students, and trade unions.

Protests became a defining feature of the era — from the No Reforms, No Elections campaigns to mass demonstrations following the disputed 2007 presidential election, which triggered deadly post-election violence. The state responded with force, deploying police armed with teargas and live bullets to quash dissent, while international attention intensified, culminating in the indictment of Kenya’s top political leaders at the International Criminal Court (ICC). Amid the turmoil, however, came a major breakthrough: the promulgation of the 2010 Constitution.

Celebrated as one of Africa’s most progressive legal frameworks, it devolved power, empowered the judiciary, and expanded civic space. Yet despite this progress, years of repression and broken promises left many Kenyans weary, sceptical, and uncertain about whether protest could still bring lasting change.

The Gen Z Update (2020s–2025)

Under President William Ruto’s administration (2022–), Kenya witnessed an unprecedented wave of civic resistance driven by economic hardship and generational frustration. As public debt soared and new taxes threatened livelihoods, young people — already grappling with unemployment and underfunded education — reached a tipping point with the proposed 2024 Finance Bill. According to https://invo.nyarango.me/ a proposed 2.5% Motor Vehicle Circulation Tax, was to be deducted directly from insurance premiums, would have disproportionately affected young car owners and online drivers. The 16% VAT on bread, a staple food, hit a nerve among struggling households. The eco levy, despite its environmental intention, was seen as punitive to youth tech consumption — especially with an additional $3 (KES 400) proposed tax per smartphone or tablet.

What began as online frustration quickly morphed into nationwide demonstrations, marking a dramatic shift in Kenya’s protest culture. Unlike previous movements led by political giants like Matiba or Raila, this uprising was decentralized and leaderless, driven by tech-savvy Gen Z activists. University students, TikTok creators, online influencers, and anonymous Twitter/X users organized through viral hashtags like #RejectFinanceBill2024, transforming smartphones into tools of resistance.

The state reacted with intimidation — abducting protesters in unmarked cars, harassing journalists, and threatening internet shutdowns. Yet instead of retreating, young Kenyans doubled down, livestreaming events, outing state agents, and rallying global solidarity. Their persistence paid off. For the first time in decades, the government relented, withdrawing the bill and directly engaging with protesters. The moment signified more than just policy reversal — it marked a generational awakening rooted not in tribal allegiance but in shared values, digital unity, and a bold vision for Kenya’s future.

In a rare reversal, President William Ruto publicly announced on June 26, 2025, that he would decline to sign the controversial Finance Bill 2024 into law, following intense public pressure.

“Listening keenly to the people of Kenya, who have said loudly that they want nothing to do with this Finance Bill 2024, I concede and therefore I will not sign the 2024 Finance Bill,” he said in a national address from State House, Nairobi.

He further proposed a 14-day period of multi-sectoral dialogue aimed at addressing not only the bill but also youth concerns around corruption and government spending.

Fighting Fear with Fear

With the opposition now appearing co-opted into the very government it once vehemently criticized, its traditional role as the vanguard of public dissent has visibly diminished. The so-called "handshake" politics — once touted as a symbol of unity — may have lulled some into thinking the nation’s problems had been resolved. But for many, especially the youth, the fight is far from over.

Disillusioned by the political elite's failures and betrayals, Gen Z are no longer waiting for leaders — it’s making them.

Take Andrew Sakawa Ombeng’i, for instance. A Member of Parliament for Dagoretti North in the Youth Parliament of Kenya, Sakawa isn’t just speaking from behind a podium. He took part in several of the Gen Z-led protests and was even hit by a teargas canister during one of the marches.

‘It is good that young people are coming out to fight for their rights,’ he told me. ‘This shows they now want to be part of the change — unlike how they’ve always been perceived as apathetic or indifferent to national affairs.’

Sakawa is also the chairman of Green Touch Organization, a community-based group championing environmental education and tree planting among young children — a far cry from the tear gas-soaked streets of Nairobi. But he sees both roles as extensions of his civic duty.

‘Student leaders today are being paid to keep others from protesting,’ he added, ‘yet remain silent on government injustices. Now, how else would they matter?’

To him, protests are just one part of a larger civic awakening. ‘When the youth show up,’ he says, ‘they get a chance to be heard not only on the streets but also on the ballot.’

Perhaps the time has come for widespread civic education, not just for the youth but for the entire nation, to reclaim what it truly means to be Kenyan under the 2010 Constitution. As Stephen Wetheo Musau notes, this new generation understands that Kenya’s crisis is not simply tribal, but deeply classed, entrenched in corruption, exclusion, and state-sponsored violence. Their insistence on constitutional rights — especially Article 37's protection of peaceful assembly — is a powerful reminder of the 2010 Constitution’s unfulfilled promises. As the country continues to grapple with economic inequity, rampant graft, and police brutality, the Saba Saba spirit must endure. Elders who once fought for democracy must now support this new frontline, ensuring history doesn’t repeat itself through betrayal or political opportunism.

The youth of Kenya, particularly Gen Z, have chosen to confront fear with an even more defiant kind of fear — not one of retreat, but of resolve. Despite watching their peers, and even those younger than them, get arrested, harassed, or disappear without a trace, they continue to march forward, emboldened by the belief that remaining silent now would cost the country another 50 or 60 years of suffering, oppression, and failed leadership. This fear of a wasted future fuels their courage. From being locked in Diani for over 12 hours, to evading abductions and dodging live bullets, many of them understand that the road ahead may lead to death, disappearance, or freedom — but the status quo is already unbearable.

If the Government is truly committed to constitutionalism, then listening to — and working with — this fearless generation may be the best path forward. Kenya’s hope lies in sustaining this momentum and rejecting the old habits of silence, tokenism, and tribalism. The revolution is no longer waiting for leaders. It has found new stewards.

 

 

 

 

 

By: JENTRICE MUNEI

1. Drought: The Silent Dropout Catalyst
~School one day, homebound the next

In 2022, a staggering 99% of school dropouts in Kajiado Central cited drought related reasons from fetching water, grazing livestock, to tending to dying herds according to CARE Kenya.

~Hollow classrooms and empty desks
By mid 2025, over 300 learners hadn’t returned to term three, especially in rural areas where livestock sales fund education. In some schools, only one third of students came back after the holidays.

2. Poverty: Fees, Food, and Forced Choices

~No livestock, no lunch
With herds decimated, parents can no longer pay fees nor feed their children. Many resort to picking up casual work or hawking a short term fix for survival.
~Hunger before homework
Around 84% of attending students suffer from hunger induced fatigue, showing short attention spans and even sleeping in class.

 

3. Wild & Wilderness: Learning at the Mercy of Giants

~Elephants at the gate
In 2025, eight schools shut for three weeks after elephant invasions when wild elephants raid compounds, teaching stalls, and safety erodes.

~Daily fear, delayed education
Children wait until mid morning to avoid wild encounters, disrupting learning routines.

4. Girls at Risk: Pregnancies and Displacement

~Alarming dropouts among girls
Teenage pregnancies have sidelined many girls by 2021, 25% of dropouts in Kajiado South were girls, largely citing early pregnancies and marriage.
~Re entry is not simple
Initiatives by FAWEK engage stakeholders in re entry programs. Safe hubs in Kitengela nurture teen moms before reintegration, yet the road is long and winding

.
>Rays of Hope: Community & NGO Solutions
~Feeding programs
Organizations like Light of Hope now feed 79,000 pupils across 210 schools, lifting enrollment from 84% to 97% (2022–2024).
~Door to door tracing missions
Chiefs, elders, and NGOs collaborate to trace and re enroll absent learners through mop up drives initiated after low transition rates.

~Parental empowerment workshops
Through engagements under shade at ECDE centers, parents are learning CBC curricula and actively participating in schooling buying books, attending meetings, and nurturing progress.
>Closing the Disparity Loop
Despite policies guaranteeing free basic education, structural dynamics drought, poverty, gender bias, and ecological hazards open cracks too wide for many children to cross. But Kajiado isn’t giving up. From feeding programs to parental empowerment, community patrol teams to wildlife fencing, a mosaic of interventions offers hope.

~Ending on a Dare: Can We Make Education Elastic?
Imagine a system so adaptable that no mattress less Maasai child, no hungry teenager, no rural outlier is left stranded. Education must stretch to meet them the drought stricken grazing lands, the elephant corridors. Because when the classroom becomes a mirage, chasing down every learner is not just a moral duty it’s the foundation of Kenya’s future.
Kajiado’s hard to reach children are knocking. Will we let them walk away?

By John Ilunga

Recent documentaries from DW News and International journalist Johnny Harris, stipulate that DRC is a land full of potential. Very wealthy; 24 trillion dollars to be exact. Gold, cobalt, Jewellery, copper and coltan for internal electronics.The Democratic Republic of Congo is said to be a rich country, full of minerals and natural resources that could feed the entire world for decades. If you could estimate what that means in practical terms it would mean the end of global humanitarian crises and a long period of peace and security across borders. Another perspective would be Egypt. Based on research, it once supplied food to many distant lands across the Nile in the Mesopotamian region. So why don’t we see this happening today in Africa?

The Fattened livestock, favorable climatic conditions and good soils for agriculture all indicate the richness of this magnificent country by the Equatorial belt. We are all strapped in the belt of famine and food shortages across the continent. Food prices in recent times have sky-rocketed due to the increased gas and fuel prices. The Civil wars and brutality amongst nations have taught us a valuable lesson. The increasing wars in Israel; the Russian assault on the Ukrainian people as well as terrors in the political zones are mostly the problem. Let’s not even mention pandemics and USAID.It is evident that the headship of most African countries needs revisions. The greatest issues surrounding the African continent today vastly stream to wars, territorial tribalism and internal insecurity. In one word;greed.

In the face of all these problems, what can big brother Africa do?
Something must surely be done. With good leadership and good policies, the pen still remains mightier than the sword. In this case, ballistic enemy missile forces.

 

Most policies are aimed at changing the status quo. Making a difference through government resolutions and planning. What if I told you that the solution could well lie within the resources that we have and not entirely upon the shoulders of our leaders. Leadership is critical but we need an educated and working population in Africa. So far, young people are thriving in many spaces in the African context. We have found a voice to air our issues and inform the world of our current financial, political and economical predicaments.

Africa is slowly but surely progressing towards a masterful; metropolitan, commercial and suburban continent, spanning among the world’s best of inventions and designs. This is the dream we all share of a united Africa. No more dependence on global powers for sustenance. We, however, 1qare still slaves of the past as the horrors done to us in past decades still haunt us. We have become more leaning towards decisions for survival than to thrive. Shall we ever arrive?

It starts at the heart. We need to deal with not only the social issues but the differences we have one with another so that we can build on new foundations of excellence and sophistication. We are smart but silenced by the systems that rule over us. We mustn’t try to fight but to thrive in outdoing our masters so that we can break free from the bondage they hold on us. As long as we remain veiled to the truths of our potentials, then we are left to reason like our masters and leaders. Our aim should not be war, but peace and union.

We need to talk these things together and workout how we can harness our own natural resources and produce excess over the surplus which we export and try to control and manage our own businesses. We can harness the power of digital and use it to end social injustices, Political manipulation and corruption. Africa needs to feel more rather than using brainpower all the time. Addressing issues from within through structured systems management can help maintain a good and healthy thriving society where all can become great and impactful. Africa, where do you stand?