Rising Tide of Rage: Kenya's Economic Struggles and the Growing Crisis of Trust in Leadership

Kenya is an interesting space. As a Kenyan, I can confirm that we-the-people are defined by our potential and resilience but we are confronted by a dangerous and growing disillusionment. Across the country, from rural landscapes to the bustling cities, frustrations are building, driven by worsening economic conditions and a profound sense of betrayal by county and national leadership. The never-ending promises of development and prosperity, frequently made in campaign speeches, feel increasingly distant. These pledges have been replaced by a troubling reality: corruption, mismanagement, and repeated missed opportunities.

Aristotle's observation that "anger arises from perceived injustice" offers a lens through which to understand Kenya's current state of affairs. Many Kenyans currently feel that injustice surrounds them at every turn, whether in the rising cost of living or the scandals that consistently plague their leaders. What once was a quiet frustration is rapidly evolving into a collective national rage, a rage that threatens to destabilize the very foundations of the nation (Aristotle, Rhetoric).

The Kenyan economy, once hailed as one of the most promising in Africa, now faces immense challenges. Inflation is soaring, unemployment is at alarming levels, and the gap between the wealthy and the poor continues to widen. The price of basic commodities has risen dramatically, while wages for ordinary citizens have stagnated. For the country's youth—who make up a significant proportion of the population—the lack of jobs and opportunities has led to a deep sense of hopelessness.

The tragic deaths of pupils from Endarasha Primary School only deepen the national despair. In a country where education is seen as a way out of poverty, the loss of these young lives strikes at the very heart of Kenya’s aspirations. This incident underscores the broader systemic failures in the country, where public safety and infrastructure are often compromised, leaving citizens to mourn the loss of their future generation.

Moreover, the recent disappearance of several students in different regions has added to the growing distrust in leadership. Families, left with few answers from authorities, feel abandoned by the very institutions meant to protect them. This deepening trust deficit mirrors a broader societal concern: that Kenyan leadership has failed to serve and protect its people.

The sense of betrayal in Kenya is palpable. As the French philosopher Albert Camus once remarked, “It is not easy to say that a man is mad, but it is enough to say that he has been betrayed.” For many Kenyans, this sense of betrayal is evident in the countless scandals that have rocked the nation (Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus).

In addition to this, the JKIA-Adani deal—a controversial agreement allowing a foreign entity to control a critical national asset—has further fueled public outrage. Many see this as evidence that the government is more concerned with catering to foreign interests than with securing the future of its own citizens. To the ordinary Kenyan, this is yet another betrayal, a reminder that their leaders seem more focused on personal wealth and influence than on the well-being of the country.

The disillusionment extends beyond the national government to county administrations as well. County governments, which were supposed to bring development and governance closer to the people, have instead become symbols of corruption and inefficiency. While devolution was meant to decentralize power and address local issues, it has often led to an increase in graft at the local level, exacerbating the sense of frustration and anger.

Kenya’s situation is not unique. History has shown time and again that when a nation's citizens feel betrayed by their leadership, the resulting rage can have devastating consequences. Frantz Fanon, a leading post-colonial thinker, warned that “when the people become aware of their exploitation and oppression, their rage can become explosive and uncontrollable” (Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth). Kenya now faces a similar tipping point. The frustrations of its citizens are manifesting in strikes, protests, and public unrest. The country’s social fabric is fraying as the widening gulf between the people and their leaders threatens to erupt into violence and chaos.

The failure of leadership is not simply a political problem; it is a moral crisis. The growing disconnect between the government and its citizens is eroding the very foundations of trust and unity. If the people's grievances are not addressed, this national rage will only deepen, leading to further instability.

As the Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe wisely noted, “The real problem of leadership in Africa is not the absence of knowledge, but the absence of will” (Achebe, The Trouble with Nigeria). Kenya is not without solutions to its problems, but it is without the leadership willing to implement them. Now is the time for change.