The Kenyan Middle Class: The Silent Enablers Of National Decay And Rot That Affects Kenya

The Kenyan middle class is a peculiar breed. Armed with degrees and diplomas, driving posh cars, and sipping lattes, they find solace in loans rather than holding the government accountable for how their taxes are used....CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE

“A bird that rests on its perch doesn’t see the storm coming,” says an African proverb. And indeed, while they take loans to fuel their lifestyle, oblivious to the misuse of their hard-earned taxes, they fail to see the greater storm building from unchecked corruption.

The solution, you ask? Well, perhaps a middle-class march to Treasury or Parliament would work, but alas, that requires time off work — which they simply can’t afford because their loan repayments are due.

Speaking of unaffordable luxuries, let’s talk about education. The middle class, in their infinite wisdom, has abandoned public schools for private institutions, where a “good education” costs a kidney or two. And if they run out of kidneys, there’s always a loan to patch things up. Instead of demanding better public schools through their tax contributions, they shield their children in the private system.

“When the axe entered the forest, the trees said, ‘The handle is one of us.’” While they invest in the private sector, they forget that public schools remain neglected, and eventually, their own fate as citizens is intertwined with that of the public systems they ignore. But hey, at least their kids get an international curriculum, right?

The same trend spills into healthcare. Why would a Kenyan middle-class citizen stand in line at Kenyatta Hospital when there’s an elite private hospital offering five-star treatment for the flu? Even if it means mortgaging their ancestral land, private hospitals are the place to be! Forget about demanding that public hospitals serve their purpose — the middle class prefers to beg, borrow, or fundraise for hospital bills while silently cursing the same system they fail to fix. “A man who uses his teeth to borrow salt forgets to ask for water to cook the meal,” a proverb wisely reminds us. Indeed, they borrow for treatment but forget to ask for accountability.

For those lucky enough to afford tickets and visas, leaving Kenya entirely is the next best option. Forget improving the job market here. Kenyan middle-class professionals are scattered in every corner of the globe, building someone else’s economy while leaving the job market at home in shambles. And still, they cry about unemployment. “You cannot climb the same tree twice,” warns an old saying, but the middle class is content to leave Kenya’s job market desolate rather than demand job creation policies at home.

Politics, though, that’s where things get mundane. Who has time for such trivial matters when there’s English Premier League to watch? “The stomach does not appreciate what the eye sees,” but for Kenya’s middle class, the eye is fixated on foreign entertainment while corruption and bad policy quietly eat away at their nation. Politicians count on this distraction to pass the most absurd laws in broad daylight, while the middle-class cheer for goals scored by teams they’ll never meet.

Even when it comes to serious issues, like crime or corruption, the middle class believes they are above it all. They might casually throw a glance at the rising crime rates but quickly brush it off — it’ll never happen to them, right? “The death that will kill a man begins as an appetite,” they say, but the middle class’s appetite for apathy grows stronger by the day, leaving the nation to rot from the inside out.

Their sense of entitlement extends to the roads, too. Traffic laws? Who needs them? Owning a black Prado or a white Mercedes is the ultimate pass to overlap, ignoring the plight of the common mwananchi stuck in endless traffic. “He who refuses to obey cannot command,” but in Kenya, the middle-class commands without obeying. It’s an unspoken rule on the highways, a reflection of how privilege distorts social order.

And let’s not forget the noble art of bribery. When the middle class is caught breaking the law, a quick bribe to the police suffices. Why go through the judicial system when a few thousand shillings can make the problem disappear?

“The path is smooth, but don’t let it fool you; the jungle is nearby.” By constantly bribing their way out of trouble, the middle class contributes to the decay of justice, not realizing they too will soon be at the mercy of the corrupt system they’ve enabled.

The middle class’s fascination with imported goods is another paradox. Local goods are simply too “inferior” for their taste. Whether it’s cars, phones, or even clothes, everything must be imported.

“The cow that feeds its neighbor will always sleep hungry,” and so, Kenya’s middle class, by feeding foreign markets, starves their own economy of jobs and wealth. What’s worse, the trillions of shillings spent on imports could build industries and create jobs right here, but no — only foreign will do.

Despite all these glaring contradictions, the middle class has the potential to change Kenya’s future. If they redirected even half of their focus from loans, private services, and imported goods to demanding real governance and accountability, Kenya could indeed rise from its slumber.

It’s time for the middle class to wake up. “The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” If the middle class doesn’t fight for the village, the day will come when even their gated communities won’t save them from the fires of discontent.

The key solution? It lies in collective responsibility. Instead of loans, the middle class could lobby for better fiscal management. Instead of private schools and hospitals, they could lead campaigns demanding the government invest in public services.

Instead of fleeing abroad, they could stay and push for policies that encourage local entrepreneurship and job creation. The middle class must stop playing a passive role in their society, for “when the right hand washes the left, both hands become clean.” They need to start washing.

It’s also high time they re-evaluated their love for foreign goods. By supporting local industries, the middle class could be the driving force behind Kenya’s economic revival.

“The water pot breaks at the well,” meaning they must invest in their local economy before it’s too late. If they continue to prioritize foreign over local, they’ll be left with nothing but broken dreams and an impoverished nation.

As for politics, the middle class must realize that their lives are directly impacted by the policies they ignore. They need to tune out the distractions and engage in national discussions because “he who does not speak out in the village meeting will be judged by the decisions made.” By participating, they can help steer Kenya in a direction that benefits all.

It is also critical that they stop bribing their way out of problems and start fighting for a fairer judicial system. Corruption cannot be solved if the middle class perpetuates it. “When you clear the bush, the snakes will come out,” but until the middle class is willing to deal with the snakes, Kenya will remain stuck in a web of corruption.

Therefore, the middle class holds the key to Kenya’s transformation. They can either continue being passive participants in the country’s decline or they can stand up, demand better governance, and work toward building a stronger, fairer Kenya.

“A single bracelet does not jingle,” but with unity and purpose, the middle class could create a symphony of change. And maybe then, Kenya can finally break free from the shackles of poor leadership and systemic decay.

In hindsight, the Gen-Z protests in June to August should have not been christened Gen-Z. That created a serious bind that prevented the rest of the population from joining. Good thing, the politicians have reset their default settings and we are getting angry again. I foresee more deadly protests sooner than later…CLICK HERE TO READ MORE ARTICLES>>>