Category: Business

‪BAT Kenya Banks On Banned, Rebranded and Addictive Nicotine Pouches Targeting Vulnerable Youths To Maximize Profits

British American Tobacco Kenya has resumed selling nicotine pouches after a five-year hiatus, rebranding a product once banned for illegally targeting minors and now projecting it to deliver up to a quarter of its revenues despite overwhelming evidence that the new generation of oral nicotine products is hooking school-going children on addiction.

The cigarette manufacturer booked Sh232 million from sales of its Velo nicotine pouches in the six months to December 2025, contributing one percent of total turnover in its first half-year back on the market.

Finance Director Philemon Kipkemboi told investors the product could grow to contribute between 15 and 25 percent of total revenues within three to five years.

What the company calls a triumphant return, public health advocates describe as a predatory resurrection.

The product now sold as Velo first entered Kenya in 2019 under the brand name Lyft, marketed through influencer campaigns on social media and sold on Jumia as a party product before the government intervened.

“The registration and marketing of the nicotine pouch was shrouded by controversies,” stated a 2021 investigative report. “It is suspected that licensing officials were compromised to allow the product illegally into the market.” The Pharmacy and Poisons Board had granted import approval before the government reversed course and banned the product in October 2020 following public outcry.

BAT Kenya Managing Director Crispin Achola, who admitted in a lifestyle interview that he does not use any tobacco products himself, had pushed for the company to sell remaining stock worth Sh33 million even after the ban was imposed, arguing that repackaging with warning labels would be sufficient.

Anti-tobacco lobby groups protested that this would expose 400,000 young people to addiction.

The company has now returned with a familiar playbook. After threatening to walk away from its Sh2.5 billion Nairobi plant, BAT successfully lobbied the Ministry of Health to relax warning label requirements.

Investigative reporting by The Examination, Africa Uncensored and The Guardian revealed that BAT pressured the government to dilute health warnings, allowing the company to sell products with labels that only state “this product contains nicotine and is addictive” while omitting mention of carcinogenic tobacco-specific nitrosamines .

In the United Kingdom, BAT informs consumers that nicotine pouches contain these cancer-causing compounds. Kenyan consumers are not afforded the same transparency.

“The tobacco industry will stop at nothing to achieve its known objective of making profits, even at the detriment of public health,” the African Tobacco Control Alliance warned in 2021 when the bribery scandal broke.

A public relations firm hired by BAT had attempted to bribe an investigative journalist for inside information on a report exposing the company’s marketing tactics.

The company’s global strategy makes no secret of its ambitions. BAT Group aims to reach 50 million consumers of non-combustible products by 2030, having already secured 34 million users by the end of 2025 . In investor presentations, BAT speaks of “stimulating the senses of new adult generations” and expanding the overall nicotine market.

Public health experts argue there is only one interpretation. “The only rationale for a corporation like BAT to spend big money on marketing the new product is not just to increase the overall size of the nicotine product but a clever way of recruiting a new generation of nicotine addicts,” an earlier investigative report concluded.

The evidence from the ground supports this grim assessment. Velo has become immensely popular among Kenyan teenagers, with short videos of young TikTokers using the product garnering millions of views.

Field surveys have revealed the products are being sold in schools. A draft report released by a government-appointed task force highlighted that young people are more susceptible to the influence of tobacco companies.

The product itself is deceptively simple: small white pouches containing nicotine derived from tobacco mixed with fibres from pine trees, eucalyptus and flavouring agents. Users slip them between gum and lip, where the nicotine absorbs directly into the bloodstream. No smoke, no smell, no tell-tale signs. For a student in a classroom, it is undetectable.

“Nicotine is toxic to the developing adolescent brain,” health experts warn. Yet BAT was forced to withdraw its nicotine pouches in Russia after products made by other brands were blamed for teenage hospitalisations and linked to one death. The company pressed on in Kenya regardless.

The regulatory environment remains deeply concerning. The Tobacco Control (Amendment) Bill 2024 currently before the Senate seeks to ban flavoured vapes and nicotine pouches while restricting advertising and banning influencers from promoting tobacco products . Offenders would face up to three years imprisonment or fines of up to Sh500,000.

But traders are pushing back. The Bar, Hotels and Liquor Traders Association has petitioned the Senate to shelve the Bill, arguing that banning flavours would drive consumers to illicit products. Secretary General Boniface Gachoka claimed the products are priced out of reach for minors at Sh600 per tin, despite clear evidence of widespread youth uptake.

“Bans and excessive restrictions will only drive consumers to criminals, fuel unemployment and deepen poverty,” Gachoka argued . The association urged lawmakers to focus on enforcing existing laws, including the ban on sales to under-18s.

Yet it was precisely the failure to enforce those laws that necessitated the 2020 ban. BAT had marketed Lyft as a harmless lifestyle accessory, hiring influencers to pose with the pouches and frame them as trendy, aspirational and classy. Because it was smokeless, young people deemed it safe. They were wrong.

The company has since divested from its Nairobi manufacturing plant and now imports Velo from Pakistan, though it says local production may be reconsidered depending on performance.

The shift to imports means Kenya loses jobs and investment while BAT retains the profits.

Globally, non-combustible products account for 18 percent of BAT Group’s revenue. The target is 50 percent by 2035 . Kenya, described in leaked documents as one of BAT’s “most exciting trial markets” for low and middle-income countries, serves as the launch pad for East and Southern Africa.

The human toll is already being felt. Studies show that more than 8,000 Kenyans die annually from tobacco-related diseases, part of what the World Health Organization calls the biggest public health threat the world has ever faced. Cigarettes kill about 15 people every minute.

BAT’s response to questions about youth uptake remains consistent: “All marketing activity for our products will only be directed towards adult consumers and is not designed to engage or appeal to youth.” The company insists it follows local laws, legislation and platform policies.

Investigative journalists have documented otherwise. The Bureau of Investigative Journalism established that BAT’s tactics in different countries have attracted a new generation including non-smokers to highly addictive nicotine products. BAT’s own research shows that at least half of adult vapers and those using nicotine pouches were not using nicotine before.

BAT Kenya welcomed the Ministry of Health’s advisory that Lyft should be sold and regulated under the Tobacco Control Act, which demands graphic images and warnings on packages, sales only to adults, and higher taxation. But the damage, as one commentator put it, was already done.

The company now has 13.5 million consumers of its nicotine pouches globally, a growth of three million in 2020 alone. Its Kenyan subsidiary defied Covid-19 business disruptions to record a 42 percent jump in net earnings that year.

When Achola was asked whether he uses any tobacco product, his answer was no. The man steering BAT Kenya’s push into nicotine pouches does not consume his own product. He knows what the company’s internal research confirms: nicotine is toxic, addictive and harmful.

But the numbers tell their own story. Cigarette sales are declining as taxes rise and health awareness grows. The solatium levy introduced by government now funds tobacco cessation programmes, but it also cuts into profits. Nicotine pouches offer a way forward: a new product, a new market, a new generation of addicts.

The company argues it is helping smokers quit. Public health advocates see a corporation doing what corporations do: maximising profits by any means necessary. The difference is that the product kills. Cigarettes kill 15 people every minute. By the time this article is read, more than 100 will have died. Tobacco firms‘ profits will not.

Kenya faces a choice. The Tobacco Control Bill offers an opportunity to ban flavoured pouches, restrict advertising and protect children. Or the country can continue as a trial market for multinational corporations willing to bribe, lobby and threaten their way into the pockets of young Kenyans.

The evidence is overwhelming. BAT knows its product is dangerous. It warns British consumers about cancer-causing compounds while telling Kenyans only that nicotine is addictive. It claims to target only adults while its products flood schools and generate millions of TikTok views.

“BAT was fully aware of what it was doing and the dark recruitment of addicts they were bringing without considering the future health of the young generation,” concluded the 2021 investigation.

Nothing has changed except the name. Lyft became Velo. The factory closed then reopened. The product was banned then unbanned. Through it all, the pouches keep coming and the teenagers keep using them.

The government has tools to act. The WHO Framework Convention on Tobacco Control, which Kenya ratified, requires a comprehensive ban on all tobacco advertising, promotion and sponsorship. Marketing tobacco products online through influencers is a flagrant violation of Article 13.

Yet influencers are precisely how the product spreads. Young Kenyans see their favourite personalities posing with pouches, framing them as fashionable and safe. They do not see the cancer warnings hidden in small print. They do not know that nicotine damages their developing brains. They only know it looks cool.

BAT Kenya projects Velo will contribute up to 25 percent of revenues in the medium term. That projection depends on one thing: young people starting and continuing to use nicotine. It depends on recruitment. It depends on addiction.

The company calls it growth. Public health calls it a tragedy.

By the time the Senate finishes debating the Tobacco Bill, thousands more young Kenyans will have tried nicotine pouches for the first time. Some will get sick. Some will switch to cigarettes. Some will die. BAT’s profits will not.

March 4, 2026
Safaricom Faces Sh250 Million Privacy Suit as Second Victim Steps Forward

Safaricom is bracing for a fresh court battle after a Nairobi businessman accused the telecommunications giant of unlawfully tracking his location and sharing his private data with police, actions he says led directly to his arrest, detention and lasting physical and psychological harm.

In a formal demand letter, businessman Alex Mutuku Mbalezi accuses Safaricom of violating his constitutional right to privacy under Article 31 of the Constitution of Kenya, 2010, and is demanding Sh250 million in compensation. The claim lands hard on the heels of a Sh200 million suit filed by acquitted Moi University student David Ooga Mokaya, signalling what could become a cascading wave of litigation against Kenya’s dominant telecom operator over alleged data protection failures.

Through his lawyer Danstan Omari, who also represents Mokaya, Mbalezi contends that Safaricom owed him both a statutory and fiduciary duty to safeguard his personal data and to ensure that any disclosure strictly complied with constitutional and legal standards. The demand letter alleges that the company unlawfully tracked and shared his location data with third parties, leading to his arrest and detention. Mbalezi says he was manhandled in custody, sustained physical injuries and has since suffered continuing health complications, psychological distress and damage to his reputation and personal dignity.

“Your actions directly facilitated the violation of our client’s fundamental rights and freedoms and exposed him to unlawful arrest,” the demand letter states.

Mbalezi is demanding that Safaricom formally admit liability within seven days and settle the Sh250 million claim. The notice warns that failure to comply within the stipulated timeframe will trigger the filing of legal proceedings without further notice.

A DISTURBING PATTERN

The businessman’s claim follows the dramatic acquittal of Mokaya on February 19, 2026, in a cybercrime case that had drawn national attention. The 24-year-old finance student was charged with publishing false information over a post on X, formerly Twitter, in November 2024. The post allegedly depicted a funeral procession with a casket draped in the Kenyan flag and made reference to President William Ruto, which prosecutors argued was intended to mislead the public into believing the Head of State had died.

During the trial before Principal Magistrate Carolyne Nyaguthii Mugo at the Milimani Chief Magistrate’s Court, evidence emerged that investigators obtained Mokaya’s phone number and location data from Safaricom following a written request by a senior police officer on November 14, 2024. Daniel Hamisi, a Safaricom security department employee who testified as a prosecution witness, confirmed under cross-examination that the information was released without a court order being presented.

Mokaya was arrested the following day in Eldoret. His Samsung phone, laptop and identification card were seized before a search warrant was obtained. In acquitting him, the court ruled that the accused person’s gadgets were seized unlawfully and were subjected to forensic examination without any judicial authorisation. The magistrate found that the prosecution had failed to conclusively link Mokaya to the disputed post and that key digital evidence had been obtained in breach of the law.

“Your personal data, your messages, your contacts, and your location are part of your dignity and privacy. These rights were violated,” Omari said following the acquittal, announcing plans to file a constitutional petition at the High Court’s Constitutional and Human Rights Division.

SAFARICOM DIGS IN

In a letter dated February 24, 2026, Safaricom rejected Mokaya’s demand outright. Legal services head of department Wangechi Gichuki stated that having reviewed the February 19 judgment, “Safaricom does not admit, and expressly denies, any liability as alleged.” Gichuki added that the trial court made no binding determination of civil liability against Safaricom.

The company argued that observations in the judgment concerning investigative practices cannot be construed as imposing strict constitutional liability on a telecommunications provider acting in compliance with formal requests from law enforcement agencies, and warned that any litigation will be vigorously and robustly defended.

Safaricom has consistently maintained that it releases customer information only when required by law or pursuant to a court order. Its published privacy policy underscores compliance with legal requirements and international privacy management standards. Omari, however, insists that testimony from the company’s own employee amounts to damning evidence of systemic non-compliance.

A TROUBLED RECORD ON DATA PROTECTION

The twin claims thrust Safaricom, Kenya’s dominant telecom operator with more than 40 million subscribers, back into the spotlight over data protection. This is not the first time the company has faced such allegations.

In October 2025, the Business Daily reported that Safaricom had failed to settle a suit in which it sought to block the sale or transfer of stolen personal data belonging to 11.5 million subscribers. Court documents showed that two former senior managers at Safaricom allegedly accessed and shared data, including customer names, phone numbers, birth dates, location records, gambling histories, passport and identity card numbers, with a businessman for onward sale to a top sports betting firm.

That data leak triggered multiple legal actions, including a constitutional petition seeking Sh100 million for the alleged primary victim and Sh10 million for each of the 11.5 million subscribers who joined the data theft suit. The scheme allegedly began with the former managers creating an algorithm to collate and analyse subscriber betting patterns. They amassed personal data on 11.5 million subscribers, which was then transferred from Safaricom servers to password-protected Google drives that the company has been unable to access.

Safaricom warned the court that the data could be transferred to additional third parties. “The plaintiff has not been able to secure the personal laptops owned by the 2nd and 3rd defendants, which then allows them to disseminate the subscriber data,” the company told the court. “They will disclose the confidential information of millions of subscribers, thus exposing Safaricom to numerous lawsuits.”

THE REGULATORY LANDSCAPE

The Data Protection Act, 2019, was enacted to afford Kenyans broader rights over how their personal information is handled. Article 31 of the Constitution guarantees the right to privacy, including the right not to have information relating to family or private affairs unnecessarily required or revealed and the right not to have communications unlawfully intercepted.

In December 2023, the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner adopted a guidance note for the communications sector, assisting service providers in telecommunications, broadcasting and postal services to comply with the Data Protection Act. The guidance outlines principles for the lawful processing of personal data, including requirements for consent, contractual necessity or compliance with a legal obligation as the basis for any data sharing.

Data Protection Commissioner Immaculate Kassait has previously called on the sector to adhere strictly to data protection principles, raising particular concerns about data collection and tracking, the misuse of personal data and surveillance by telecommunications companies.

Legal analysts note that while the Data Protection Act permits limited disclosures to law enforcement for legitimate investigations, court precedents have increasingly demanded judicial oversight, particularly where real-time location data is at stake. In a landmark ruling in April 2024, the High Court declared the mandatory collection of International Mobile Equipment Identity numbers by mobile network operators unconstitutional, affirming the primacy of privacy, data protection and freedom from unreasonable surveillance in Kenya’s digital ecosystem.

A PRECEDENT-SETTING MOMENT

Omari has described the Mokaya case as a landmark moment for digital rights in Kenya. He has signalled the possibility of a sweeping class action that could run into trillions of shillings if the millions of subscribers potentially affected come forward.

“This is not just about David Mokaya. It is about restoring sanity to the telecommunications sector. Every Kenyan whose privacy has been violated in this manner now has a justiciable claim,” Omari said.

The case raises wider questions about the relationship between telecommunications companies and law enforcement agencies. During the Mokaya trial, the arresting officer admitted he had no court order to carry out the search or seize Mokaya’s phone and laptop. The court emphasised that cybercrime investigations must strictly comply with legal procedures, noting that digital evidence is highly sensitive and must be obtained through lawful means.

Mokaya himself has described months of gruelling travel between Eldoret and Nairobi to attend court appearances, funded by well-wishers and family members who also struggled to pay his tuition fees. “I used to travel all the way from Eldoret where I stay and study to come attend mentions and hearings and travel back to Eldoret on the same day due to financial difficulties,” he said in his supporting affidavit. Omari has alleged that Mokaya “can’t even talk due to mental trauma and shock that gripped him since he was charged.”

WHAT LIES AHEAD

The dispute is expected to raise far-reaching questions about data protection, privacy rights and the legal obligations of telecommunications companies handling subscriber information under Kenyan law. Mokaya’s lawyers are expected to seek conservatory orders to restrain any further release of subscriber data without a court sanction. The High Court’s determination could set a decisive precedent governing how telecom operators balance cooperation with security agencies against the constitutional right to privacy in Kenya’s fast-evolving digital landscape.

With Mbalezi’s claim adding fresh pressure, Safaricom now finds itself fighting on two fronts against allegations that strike at the heart of its relationship with millions of Kenyans who entrust the company with their most sensitive personal information. The company had not issued a public statement on the Mokaya matter by Tuesday afternoon, nor had it responded to Mbalezi’s demand letter.

As the seven-day ultimatum in Mbalezi’s notice ticks down, all eyes are on Safaricom’s next move and on the High Court, which may soon be called upon to define the boundaries of digital privacy in Kenya for generations to come.

March 3, 2026
THE RECKONING: How a Coffin Photo, a Framed Student, and a Telecom Giant’s Admission in Open Court Are About to Trigger Kenya’s Biggest Privacy War

Danstan Omari Calls on Millions of Kenyans to Join a Potentially Trillion-Shilling Constitutional Onslaught Against Safaricom After Court Exposes Systematic Subscriber Data Sharing Without Judicial Oversight

There is a moment in every landmark legal battle when the central question stops being about money and becomes about something far more profound. That moment arrived in Courtroom Three of the Milimani Chief Magistrate’s Court on February 18, 2026, when a Safaricom employee took the witness stand and quietly confirmed, under cross-examination, that Kenya’s dominant telecommunications operator had handed the personal data, location records, and subscriber details of a twenty-four-year-old finance student to the Directorate of Criminal Investigations, without a court order, without judicial authorisation, and apparently without hesitation.

The student, David Oaga Mokaya of Moi University, was promptly acquitted of all charges by Senior Principal Magistrate Caroline Nyaguthii Mugo. The prosecution collapsed under the weight of its own procedural lawlessness. But the courtroom revelation, made under oath by Safaricom employee Daniel Hamisi, has ignited a legal firestorm that threatens to engulf not only the Nairobi Stock Exchange’s most capitalised company but the entire framework governing how telecommunications operators cooperate with Kenya’s security apparatus.

Advocate Danstan Omari, the combative and media-savvy lawyer who led Mokaya’s defence alongside colleagues Shadrack Wambui and Martina Swiga, stepped outside the court building minutes after the acquittal and delivered a declaration that reverberated far beyond the immediate case. He was not simply announcing a Sh200 million compensation claim. He was sounding a mobilisation call to every Kenyan subscriber who has ever wondered whether their most intimate digital information, their location at any given hour, their communications, their financial transactions, their very movements through Kenyan space and time, is genuinely protected by law or merely by corporate assurances that have, in this instance, been exposed as legally hollow.

“This is not just about David Mokaya,” Omari told reporters, his voice carrying the precision of a man who had been waiting for precisely this factual foundation. “It is about restoring sanity to the telecommunications sector. Every Kenyan whose privacy has been violated in this manner now has a justiciable claim. Come forward. We will go to the High Court together.”

A Social Media Post, a Presidential Coffin, and a Trial That Should Never Have Happened

The sequence of events that led to this moment began in November 2024 with an image circulated on X, formerly Twitter. The post depicted a funeral procession, a casket draped in the Kenyan flag, and a caption that prosecutors alleged was designed to mislead the public into believing President William Ruto had died. Mokaya was identified as the suspect, arrested in Eldoret on November 15, 2024, and charged under the Computer Misuse and Cybercrimes Act with publishing false information.

What emerged during the trial was more damaging to the prosecution than to the accused. DCI Chief Inspector Bosco Kisau confirmed in testimony that investigators had sent a written request to Safaricom on November 14, 2024, the day before the arrest, seeking Mokaya’s phone number, location data, and subscriber details. The request was signed by a senior DCI officer. There was no court order attached. There was no judicial oversight applied. Hamisi, appearing on behalf of Safaricom, confirmed the company released the data the same day it received the request, on the basis of that letter alone. Defense counsel Ian Mutiso pressed the DCI officer directly: was he aware that subscriber details could only be released to a third party pursuant to a court order? The officer admitted he was not aware of the High Court ruling establishing that requirement.

Magistrate Mugo acquitted Mokaya on all counts. She found that prosecutors had failed to conclusively link him to the disputed post, that key digital evidence had been obtained without valid court orders authorising search and extraction, and that the entire investigation was procedurally compromised from its foundation. Mokaya’s phone, laptop, and national identification card had been seized before any search warrant was obtained. The digital examination that followed was constitutionally inadmissible. The case was, in the court’s assessment, built entirely on an unlawful base.

Omari, speaking with evident anger, noted that his client “can’t even talk due to mental trauma and shock” following more than a year of prosecution for something he did not do, on the basis of data his telecommunications provider surrendered without a single judge being consulted.

The Demand Letter, the Constitutional Petition, and the Warning That Came With It

Within hours of the acquittal, the legal team issued a forty-eight-hour demand notice to Safaricom PLC, seeking Sh200 million in compensation. The notice grounded its claims in Article 31 of the Constitution of Kenya, 2010, which guarantees every person the right not to have their privacy of their person, home, or property infringed; the right not to have their possessions seized; and the right not to have their communications infringed. The team also cited Article 28, which protects human dignity, arguing that personal data, location information, and communications records fall squarely within its protection, as well as the Data Protection Act, 2019, which establishes specific obligations on data controllers regarding consent, purpose limitation, and lawful disclosure.

Safaricom did not pay. Through its lawyers, the company denied the allegations as “not only false but also malicious,” reiterating its publicly stated position that it only releases customer information when explicitly required by law or by court order. The constitutional petition was filed at the High Court’s Constitutional and Human Rights Division the following Monday morning.

That filing, however, is only the beginning of what Omari has mapped out as a rolling legal campaign. He has explicitly invited all Kenyans who believe their data was disclosed to security agencies, the DCI, the National Police Service, or any other authority, without court sanction, to contact his chambers and join what he has characterised as a potential class action of historic proportions. The arithmetic of that ambition is staggering. Safaricom holds subscriber data for approximately forty-six million Kenyans. If even a fraction of those subscribers could demonstrate unlawful disclosure, the aggregate compensation exposure would run into figures that make the Sh200 million anchor claim look modest by comparison.

Omari has publicly raised the spectre of a Sh1 trillion lawsuit against the company, should the scope of affected subscribers be as wide as civil society groups and investigative journalists have long alleged.

A Company Under Siege From Every Direction

It would be tempting to dismiss the Mokaya case as an isolated procedural failure, a single DCI officer who did not know the rules, a single Safaricom employee who complied too readily. The broader record of litigation and investigative reporting makes that characterisation impossible to sustain.

Safaricom faces a staggering Sh115 trillion lawsuit after two former senior managers allegedly conspired with external accomplices to create an algorithm mining subscriber data based on betting patterns, stealing detailed personal information on 11.5 million Kenyans, including full names, national ID numbers, passport numbers, gambling transaction histories, M-Pesa details, and precise subscriber locations. Settlement talks in this case collapsed in October 2025, and it is now headed for full trial.

In February 2025, the company was named as a defendant in a separate Sh1.432 billion suit arising from an alleged breach of a central development server in its finance department, a breach claimed to have exposed approximately forty-three million customer records.

Then there is the M-TIBA breach, in which hackers claimed to have stolen over 2.15 terabytes of data from Safaricom’s mobile health platform, potentially exposing the records of up to 4.8 million users including medical diagnoses and billing records.

The pattern extends beyond data breaches into the relationship between the company and the state’s coercive machinery.

In October 2024, investigations by Nation Africa revealed that Safaricom’s partner Neural Technologies created software that automated security agencies’ access to the company’s call data records.

Among the tools provided was a browser portal that could allow security agency officers in the field to track people in real time, as well as a visualisation function colloquially described internally as “Find My Friends,” enabling police to predictively profile individuals based on patterns of movement and association.

Safaricom also filed a strategic litigation against public participation suit against a journalist who sought to disclose information regarding the company’s data-sharing practices with police between June and October 2024, at the height of protest-related abductions and enforced disappearances.

That legal manoeuvre, far from projecting confidence, confirmed in the eyes of critics that there was something the company did not want a court to examine. The Kenya Human Rights Commission and Muslims for Human Rights subsequently issued a formal open letter demanding accountability; Safaricom’s lawyers again deployed the adjective “malicious” in response.

The 2024 anti-Finance Bill protests, during which civil society groups accused Safaricom of facilitating the tracking of demonstrators in real time, generated particular public anger and are likely to produce their own tranche of potential claimants. At least sixty people died during that crackdown. The question of who was tracked, by what means, and on whose authority, has never been publicly and judicially resolved.

What the Law Actually Requires

The legal framework Omari is deploying is not novel, but the Mokaya case has provided something that previous accusations lacked: sworn testimony in a concluded criminal proceeding, from Safaricom’s own witness, confirming the practice. That shifts the case from allegation to admission.

Lawyer Danstan Omari

The Data Protection Act, 2019, governs how organisations holding personal data may process and disclose it. Section 26 provides data subjects with the right not to have their personal data processed except in accordance with the Act. Schedule 1 lists the limited conditions under which processing is lawful; cooperation with law enforcement is permissible, but not unconditional.

A July 2025 High Court ruling added further constitutional weight to this framework, finding that once IMEI identifiers are linked to a user, they constitute personal data and merit constitutional protection, a ruling that narrows the space for casual sharing of technical subscriber information that Safaricom might previously have characterised as non-personal.

The courts have previously allowed class action mechanisms to operate against Safaricom in data-related matters. In an earlier case involving the collection of banking information through SIM registration, a High Court judge permitted senior counsel to publish newspaper notices inviting subscribers to join a constitutional petition. The legal infrastructure for aggregating individual claims therefore already exists and is familiar to the judiciary. Omari’s invitation to Kenyans is not rhetorical speculation; it is a procedurally viable litigation strategy.

The No-Win Arithmetic of a Corporate Giant

Legal analysts who reviewed the Mokaya claim for this publication described Safaricom’s position as structurally precarious, regardless of the outcome of any individual case. If the company contests the constitutional petition and loses, it will have created binding precedent that gives a judicially validated cause of action to every subscriber whose data was disclosed without court authorisation. If it settles out of court, even confidentially, it concedes the principle and emboldens further claimants. If it continues to deny while court after court hears sworn testimony from its own employees about disclosure practices that are difficult to reconcile with its stated policy, the reputational damage compounds with each proceeding.

The company reported revenues of Sh311.6 billion in its most recent financial year and holds Kenya’s dominant mobile money ecosystem through the M-Pesa platform. The Office of the Data Protection Commissioner is empowered to impose administrative penalties for Data Protection Act violations, though critics note that the current maximum fines represent a rounding error for an enterprise of Safaricom’s scale. The transformative accountability will only come through the courts, and through the kind of mass constitutional litigation that Omari is now actively assembling.

The Human Dimension That Numbers Cannot Capture

In the focus on figures, it is easy to lose sight of what a Sh200 million claim is actually compensating for. David Mokaya was pulled from his student accommodation in Eldoret, his devices seized, his name placed in the public record as a criminal suspect, his academic year disrupted, and his mental health damaged, all because a police officer wrote a letter and a telecommunications company replied by email with his personal information, without either party pausing to ask a judge whether any of it was lawful. Magistrate Mugo concluded from the evidence that he had been framed. The post may not even have been genuine.

Omari described Mokaya’s condition after acquittal in terms that go beyond legal vocabulary. A young man who was studying finance, planning a future, and exercising his right to exist in a digital space, had been transformed into a defendant and a spectacle. His data, the intimate technical trace of his life, had been weaponised against him by the very system of law that the Constitution was designed to constrain.

That is the story that Omari is now telling to every Kenyan who holds a Safaricom SIM card, which is to say, to almost every Kenyan adult. The next person whose location is sold to an investigator with a letter and no court order may not be a student posting images online. It may be a journalist, an opposition politician, a union organiser, a protester, a businessperson, or simply someone who was in the wrong place when a DCI officer’s map turned red. The constitutional petition in the Mokaya case will decide whether that possibility can continue unchallenged.

What Comes Next

The High Court’s Constitutional and Human Rights Division will hear the petition. Mokaya’s team is expected to seek conservatory orders restraining further disclosure of subscriber data without judicial sanction, pending the determination of the substantive claim. The court may, as it has done in previous Safaricom class action matters, direct publication of a notice inviting affected Kenyans to join the proceeding or register as interested parties.

The Office of the Data Protection Commissioner may also be expected to take a position, given that the sworn testimony in the criminal trial effectively placed on the public record a disclosure practice that, on its face, is inconsistent with the statutory framework the Commissioner is mandated to enforce.

Safaricom’s response to the constitutional petition, when filed, will be scrutinised for whether the company retreats from its lawyers’ characterisation of the claims as “malicious” in the face of its own employee’s sworn account of what occurred.

What is certain is that the legal, regulatory, and reputational landscape Safaricom occupied before February 18, 2026 no longer exists. The Mokaya acquittal did not merely free one student. It generated a judicial record, a public admission, and a constitutional cause of action that advocates are now scaling into something that could reshape the relationship between corporate Kenya, the security state, and the forty-six million subscribers whose most intimate data sits on Safaricom’s servers.

As Omari put it, with the kind of simplicity that good lawyers deploy when the facts require nothing more complex: “For the police to obtain your location or personal data from Safaricom, they must first obtain a court order. Without that order, any disclosure is unconstitutional.”

The question now is whether enough Kenyans believe that to fill the High Court.

March 3, 2026
Marine Insurers Cancel War Risk Cover, Tanker Costs To Rise as Iran Conflict Intensifies

SINGAPORE, March 2 (Reuters) – Marine insurers are cancelling war risk coverage for vessels and oil shipping rates are set to surge further after the widening Iran conflict left at least three tankers damaged, a seafarer killed and 150 ships stranded around the Strait of Hormuz.

Iran has responded to U.S. and Israeli strikes that began on Saturday with retaliatory attacks that have sharply increased risks to commercial shipping in the past 24 hours.

In the Strait of Hormuz and surrounding waters, at least 150 vessels including oil and liquefied natural gas tankers had dropped anchor, shipping data showed on Sunday.

Typically, ships carrying oil equal to about one-fifth of global demand from Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Iraq, Iran, and Kuwait sail through the Strait along with tankers hauling diesel, jet fuel, gasoline and other products.

The disruption sparked a 9% jump in global oil prices on Monday.

INSURERS CANCEL WAR RISK COVER

Companies including Gard, Skuld, NorthStandard, the London P&I Club and the American Club said their cancellations would take effect from March 5, according to notices dated March 1 on their websites.

War risk cover will be excluded in Iranian waters, as well as the Gulf and adjacent waters, according to the notices.

Skuld added in its notice that it was working on a buy-back option to reinstate cover.

Japan’s MS&AD Insurance Group told Reuters it had suspended underwriting of a range of insurance policies covering war risks in the waters around Iran, Israel and neighbouring countries.

OIL SHIPPING COSTS TO RISE FURTHER

Meanwhile, costs of shipping oil from the Middle East to Asia – already at six-year highs – are set to rise further as the widening Iran conflict is deterring shipowners from sending vessels to the region, market sources and analysts said on Monday.

Spot shipping rates from the Middle East to Asia, more commonly known as TD3C , are expected to extend gains, shipbrokers said. The benchmark has nearly tripled since the start of 2026.

Brokers pegged the spot rate for hiring a very large crude carrier on the key Middle East to China route early in Asia on Monday about 4% higher than on Friday, near W225 on the Worldscale industry measure or equivalent to at least $12 million.

EXPONENTIAL RISE

“TD3C rates were rising exponentially before the attacks and will continue to remain elevated as countries scramble to meet their energy needs,” said Emril Jamil, a senior LSEG analyst.

There is still a lot of uncertainty on where the final rate would be on Monday but all Middle East loading routes are expected to hold firm, a shipbroker said. They declined to be named as they were not authorised to speak to the media.

Meanwhile, the market will need more ships to load crude from the U.S. and West Africa on longer voyages which could support freight on those routes, a source from a shipping company said.

March 2, 2026
Mbadi Vows To Deregister Rogue Lenders As Mwananchi Credit, Others Escape Scrutiny From Court Technicality

Treasury Cabinet Secretary John Mbadi has fired a stunning warning shot at Kenya’s predatory lending industry, threatening to revoke the licences of microfinance and digital credit companies that deliberately structure loans to make repayment impossible, even as four of the sector’s most controversial players walked free from court on a legal technicality just days earlier.

Appearing before the Senate on Wednesday, Mbadi named and shamed lenders who issue logbook-secured credit facilities with the sole objective of seizing and selling borrowers’ vehicles, not recovering debt. His remarks, which have since gone viral, come barely 48 hours after a High Court dismissed a constitutional petition that sought to kick Mwananchi Credit Ltd, Platinum Credit Ltd, Izwe Loans Ltd and Premier Credit Ltd out of the market for allegedly advancing digital credit without a valid licence from the Central Bank of Kenya.

“There are lenders who issue credit facilities and take borrowers’ logbooks with the objective of selling the vehicles. They have structured the loans in such a way that repayment becomes practically impossible. Such entities must operate within the law or we will revoke their licences,” Mbadi told senators, his remarks broadcast live on national television.

The CS’s intervention lands at a moment of acute public outrage over Kenya’s microfinance sector. Court records, regulatory data and investigative reporting have combined to paint a damning picture of an industry that for years operated like a financial cartel, inflating debts beyond recognition and terrorising borrowers through repossession tactics that judges have described, in open court, as gangster-like.

The Court Escape

The petition that collapsed on February 20 was filed by one Mark Muko, who argued that the four lenders had been advancing credit illegally, exposing borrowers to predatory interest rates, opaque loan terms and abusive recovery practices, all without the CBK’s regulatory blessing. It was a bold, broadly supported argument. It was also, the court found, brought to the wrong door at the wrong time.

The High Court ruled that Muko had failed to first exhaust the dispute resolution mechanisms available under the Microfinance Act Regulations before approaching the bench. In pointed language, the judge observed that the petitioner had neither averred nor demonstrated that the regulatory complaint mechanism had been explored and a resolution communicated, making the petition both premature and procedurally improper.

For Mwananchi Credit, Platinum Credit, Izwe Loans and Premier Credit, the ruling was a lifeline. But consumer advocates and legal practitioners say it was not an acquittal. The court did not rule that the companies were compliant. It ruled only that Muko had knocked on the wrong door first.

“The ruling doesn’t give digital lenders a free pass,” one legal expert said. “CBK still retains full enforcement power. What the court is saying is that consumer protection claims must be grounded in evidence and proper procedure, not outrage alone.”

A Pattern of Inflated Debts

For Mwananchi Credit in particular, the reprieve from the Muko petition arrives amid a litigation storm that threatens to dwarf it entirely. The landmark 2023 High Court judgment in Jelangant and Another v Mwananchi Credit Ltd, in which Justice George Khaniri slashed a Sh22 million demand back to the Sh7 million principal originally borrowed, has become what lawyers now call legal dynamite in the hands of aggrieved borrowers.

The Jelangant case exposed with surgical precision how Mwananchi Credit had demanded Sh15 million in interest and penalties from a borrower who had already fully repaid the principal. Justice Khaniri demolished the company’s defence that, as a non-deposit-taking microfinance institution, it was not bound by the in duplum rule, which prohibits interest from exceeding the principal loan amount. The judge held that any entity that earns interest is a lender subject to the rule, regardless of its regulatory classification.

Mwananchi Credit offices

That precedent has since reverberated across Kenya’s judiciary. In a separate case, High Court Judge Kizito Magare blocked Mwananchi Credit from selling two seized lorries belonging to traders who had borrowed Sh2.5 million, repaid Sh3 million, and were still being pursued for a further Sh6.25 million through unregistered chattel mortgages that the court declared void. Judge Magare was scathing, stating from the bench that he was unable to fathom the mathematical permutations that had turned a Sh2.5 million loan into a Sh9.25 million claim, and warning that courts would not allow microfinance companies to operate like shylocks.

Court records reviewed by Kenya Insights show at least fifteen active cases filed against Mwananchi Credit in 2024 and 2025 alone.

Conservative estimates place potential combined claims against the company at over Sh2 billion, should even a fraction of aggrieved borrowers successfully challenge their loan terms. In another documented case, Harrogate Limited borrowed a Sh50 million facility that ballooned to Sh177.5 million in under two years, with the borrowers alleging they received only Sh30 million in disbursements despite being charged for the full amount, and that the rules of engagement were changed midway through repayment.

Mwananchi Credit has consistently denied wrongdoing. Company management has claimed the firm offers some of the lowest interest rates in the market and insists that complaints are fabrications by competitors. The company did not respond to requests for comment at the time of going to press.

Mbadi’s Crackdown

The Treasury CS, responding to Senate questions raised by Kisumu Senator Tom Ojienda through Bungoma Senator Wafula Wakoli, outlined a sweeping package of regulatory reforms designed to restore order in a sector that has grown at breakneck speed while leaving a trail of financial devastation.

Mbadi disclosed that the CBK now mandates all Non-Deposit Taking Credit Providers to be licensed under a comprehensive Digital Credit Providers regulatory framework, setting strict eligibility criteria, governance standards and consumer protection obligations. As of December 2025, there were 195 licensed NDTCPs advancing a combined Sh110.5 billion in credit to Kenyan borrowers.

The CS also revealed that fines for violating the Banking Act have been quadrupled, from Sh500,000 to Sh2 million, in a move Mbadi described as designed to be dissuasive and instil discipline. When Senator Moses Kajwang’ pressed him on lenders whose interest charges exceed twice the principal amount, Mbadi confirmed that credit providers must have their pricing models approved to ensure compliance with the in duplum rule under Section 44 of the Banking Act.

The CBK is also working with the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner to enforce uniform data privacy standards, following a wave of abusive debt collection practices that have included doxxing borrowers’ contacts and bombarding third parties with humiliating messages.

Competition Authority of Kenya data underpins the urgency of the crackdown. Consumer complaints against microfinance and digital lenders surged by 28 percent in 2025 compared to the previous year, the steepest annual increase on record for the sector.

A Regulatory Crossroads

The simultaneous unfolding of Mbadi’s Senate address and the court’s dismissal of the Muko petition captures the contradictory reality facing Kenya’s overstretched borrowers. On one hand, the government is making its most forceful public declaration yet that the era of predatory lending is over. On the other, the very companies at the centre of that predation are escaping accountability on procedural grounds that, while legally sound, feel like cold comfort to borrowers who have watched debts triple and vehicles disappear.

For fintechs and microfinance houses operating in Kenya, the dual message is nevertheless unmistakable: get licensed, maintain transparent pricing, and keep your paperwork clean, or face a regulator that is no longer willing to look the other way.

For the hundreds of borrowers now armed with the Jelangant precedent and emboldened by the Treasury’s public stance, the fight is far from over. The Muko petition may have failed on procedure. But the substance of what it alleged, that certain lenders are operating outside the law and beyond the reach of basic consumer protection, remains a live and explosive question in Kenya’s courts, Parliament and regulators’ offices alike.

The deluge, as one legal observer put it, has only just begun.

February 26, 2026
Vodacom Accused of Complicity In Sh244 Billion Safaricom ‘Fraud’

KEY FACTS AT A GLANCE

Shares being sold: 6,009,814,200 (15% of Safaricom)

Sale price: KSh 34 per share (vs. alleged intrinsic value: KSh 70–80)

Government proceeds: KSh 244.5 billion (including KSh 40.2B dividend prepay)

Alleged undervaluation loss to Kenya: Over KSh 250 billion

Post-deal control: Vodacom 55%, GoK 20%, Public 25%

M-Pesa daily transactions: 100 million+; Active users: 38 million

Parliamentary deadline: ~March 26, 2026

Active court petitions: At least 3 before the High Court

Interim injunctions granted: Zero (as at Feb 25, 2026)

It has all the hallmarks of the deals Kenya’s legal fraternity has come to dread: a rushed timeline, a locked-out public, a handpicked buyer, and a price that critics say would make a seasoned auditor weep. The government’s planned sale of a 15 percent stake in Safaricom PLC to South Africa’s Vodacom Group — valued at a staggering KSh 244.5 billion when prepaid dividends are included — has ignited a constitutional firestorm that now rages simultaneously in at least three High Court courtrooms, across social media battlegrounds, and in the heated chambers of a Parliament that may yet hold the power to kill the deal entirely.

At the centre of the legal storm stands Tony Gachoka — veteran journalist, KANU party spokesman, aspiring Nairobi gubernatorial candidate, and one of Kenya’s most unapologetic gadflies. In a social media post on February 24, 2026, Gachoka did not mince words: “VODACOM ENGLISH COMPANY BEING USED BY WILLIAM RUTO TO STEAL BILLIONS OF SHILLINGS FROM KENYANS, IN A SECRET DEAL WORTH 200 BILLION HAS PANICKED.” That, in a single capitalised declaration, is the Gachoka doctrine: a South African-registered, London-parentage corporate vehicle is being weaponised to siphon the birthright of ordinary Kenyans — and President William Ruto is holding the door open.

Gachoka has since filed a constitutional petition at the Milimani High Court alongside economics professor Fredrick Onyango Ogola, naming as respondents the Cabinet Secretaries for the National Treasury and for ICT, the Communications Authority, the Competition Authority, the Attorney General, Safaricom PLC itself, and Vodacom Group. The petition is a grenade rolled into the gilded machinery of Kenya’s biggest privatisation in a generation.

THE DEAL: WHAT THE GOVERNMENT SAYS — AND WHAT IT ISN’T SAYING

On December 4, 2025, Finance Cabinet Secretary John Mbadi announced that the state had agreed to sell 6,009,814,200 Safaricom shares — 15 percent of the company — to Vodacom at KSh 34 per share. The total headline figure: KSh 204.3 billion. Add an upfront dividend prepayment of KSh 40.2 billion on the government’s residual 20 percent stake, and the total cash inflow balloons to KSh 244.5 billion.

The proceeds, the government says, are earmarked as seed capital for a National Infrastructure Fund and a new Sovereign Wealth Fund — a financial vehicle to bankroll roads, irrigation schemes, energy projects, and airport upgrades. For a government where debt servicing now swallows more than 40 percent of revenue, and where Kenya’s public debt stands at a vertigo-inducing KSh 12 trillion, Mbadi frames the sale as economic triage: convert a passive shareholding into productive capital.

Post-transaction, the ownership map changes seismically. The government’s 35 percent stake shrinks to 20 percent. Vodacom’s effective holding surges from 35 percent to 55 percent — outright controlling majority. The public float stays at 25 percent. In one stroke, a South African conglomerate backed by British telecom giant Vodafone Group would assume operational dominion over East Africa’s most powerful private enterprise.

The conditions the government has extracted — Kenyan CEO and chairman, no layoffs outside the ordinary course, no supplier changes for three years, majority Kenyan independent directors — are, critics say, window dressing on a structural capitulation. Notably absent from the public record: any disclosed valuation methodology, any named transaction adviser, any evidence of competitive bidding, and any published due diligence report.

When pressed on why the shares were not offered to ordinary Kenyans, CS Mbadi offered a frank economic sermon: “Selling Safaricom shares directly to Kenyans would not have given us value for money because we would have sold at a discount.” The statement, however, raised an immediate retort from critics: if the prevailing market price of KSh 29.50 is too low to sell to Kenyans, why is KSh 34 — still well below the alleged intrinsic value of KSh 70–80 — good enough for Vodacom?

THE PETITION: ALLEGATIONS THAT COULD BLOW UP THE DEAL

The Gachoka-Ogola petition, filed at the Constitutional and Human Rights Division of the High Court in January 2026, reads less like a legal pleading and more like an indictment. Its central allegations are as follows:

Gross undervaluation: The petitioners contend that the KSh 34 price is a gross misrepresentation of Safaricom’s worth. Independent economic analysis places the shares’ intrinsic value at between KSh 70 and KSh 80 per share — a differential that, extrapolated across the 6 billion shares being sold, translates into a potential loss to the Kenyan public of over KSh 250 billion. The petition argues this price was “poorly and selectively negotiated by the respondents to the grave detriment of the Kenyan public.”

Opaque, non-competitive process: The sale was structured as a negotiated block trade with a single buyer — Vodacom — with no public tender, no competitive bids solicited, no disclosure of who advised the government, and no evidence that alternative buyers or structures were considered. The petition describes the process as “rushed, opaque, non-competitive and procedurally dubious.”

Constitutional violations: The petition invokes Articles 1, 10, and 227 of the Constitution — the pillars of public participation, national values, and transparency in the disposal of public property. The petitioners argue the Public Procurement and Asset Disposal Act, 2015 was bypassed, that the Privatisation Act, 2025 was not properly observed, and that Parliament’s role was reduced to a statutory rubber stamp — a 28-day window within which lawmakers must act or the deal proceeds automatically by March 26, 2026.

National security and sovereignty: Perhaps the most explosive allegation involves what Safaricom actually is — not merely a telecom company but a data sovereign, a financial artery, and a national security infrastructure. M-Pesa alone processes over 100 million transactions daily, services 38 million Kenyan customers, and forms the backbone of Kenya’s digital financial inclusion story. The petition argues that handing Vodacom 55 percent control would “irreversibly undermine Kenya’s strategic leverage over critical data infrastructure, mobile money systems and national security interests.”

VODACOM’S PANIC MOVE: APPLICATION TO BE STRUCK OUT

On February 24, 2026 — the same day Gachoka published his explosive social media broadside — The Standard reported that Vodacom Group had filed a formal application before High Court Judge Lawrence Mugambi, asking to be struck out entirely as a respondent. The company’s argument: it is not a party to the government’s shareholding decision and exercises no control over it.

Safaricom PLC has taken a similar position, telling the court it is not the proper respondent as shareholding decisions rest with the government. Both companies, in effect, are pointing the finger at State House and the National Treasury — and asking the court to let them watch from the sidelines.

For Gachoka, this is precisely the tell. In his social media post, he claimed Vodacom was “trying to pull out“ and attributed this to fears of being linked to the kind of corruption scandals that have followed UK-connected corporate deals in Kenya’s recent past. Whether or not the legal manoeuvre amounts to a retreat under fire — or merely a legitimate procedural point — it has given Gachoka fresh ammunition to fire across every social media platform available to him.

THE COURT’S CAUTION: NO FREEZE ORDERS YET — BUT THE BATTLE IS FAR FROM OVER

The High Court has twice declined to issue interim conservatory orders halting the transaction — a blow to the petitioners’ strategy of urgency. The court’s reluctance reflects a preference for structured, full-ventilation hearings rather than ex parte injunctions in complex commercial-constitutional matters. On February 4, 2026, directions were expected. A further mention date of February 23, 2026 was set for additional directions.

At least two additional petitions from separate litigants are running in parallel courts — a legal constellation of challenges that creates simultaneous risk vectors for the deal’s progress. The transaction still requires approvals from Cabinet, Parliament, the Capital Markets Authority, the Communications Authority, the Central Bank of Kenya, COMESA, and the East African Community Competition Authority. Parliament’s 28-day window — ticking since December 2025 — expires on or around March 26, 2026, meaning the clock is loud.

A Parliamentary committee has issued directions supporting the sale, following public participation forums conducted across 30 counties. But scrutiny within Parliament has not been uniform. Several MPs have raised pointed concerns about sovereignty, data protection, and the structural exclusion of Kenyan retail investors from a deal involving a company that millions of ordinary citizens use daily.

THE DEEPER QUESTION: WHO REALLY LOSES IF THIS DEAL CLOSES?

Safaricom is not a routine state-owned enterprise available for portfolio trimming. It is, by virtually any serious analysis, the most consequential single private entity operating in Kenya’s economy. Its M-Pesa platform processes the daily financial lives of tens of millions of Kenyans — market hawkers, smallholder farmers, domestic workers, corporate treasuries. Its network is woven into Kenya’s e-commerce, its data infrastructure underpins the digital economy, and its communications systems intersect with national security considerations that Kenya’s security establishment has never fully disclosed publicly.

The Kenya Bankers Association, hardly a body of radicals, has proposed that at least 300 million shares — a 0.75 percent stake — be offered to ordinary Kenyan citizens rather than sold entirely to Vodacom. The Technology Service Providers Association has called for golden share provisions and foreign ownership limits. The Safaricom Dealer Association has warned that Vodacom’s more centralised operational model in other African markets risks dismantling the shared-prosperity dealer network that has given Safaricom its formidable national footprint.

Wiper leader Kalonzo Musyoka has weighed in, questioning both the transparency of the process and the extent to which citizens have been meaningfully included. In a political environment already raw from the Gen-Z uprising of 2024 and the unresolved aftermath of Kenya’s finance bill battles, the optics of a secretive, billion-dollar sellout to a foreign corporation — conducted without competitive bidding and with alleged underpricing — are politically toxic.

GACHOKA THE FIREBRAND: POLITICAL THEATRE OR GENUINE PUBLIC INTEREST CRUSADE?

It would be naive to divorce Tony Gachoka’s legal activism from his political ambitions. As a KANU spokesman with an eye on the 2027 Nairobi gubernatorial race and a lifelong instinct for the inflammatory headline, Gachoka occupies a complex position: part genuine public interest litigant, part performance politician who understands that nothing generates profile faster than suing a sitting president over a Sh200 billion deal.

But the substance of the petition — whatever one thinks of its author — is not frivolous. The constitutional grounds are real. The valuation gap between KSh 34 and the KSh 70–80 intrinsic value estimate is real and has been cited not only by Gachoka but by financial analysts, MPs, and civil society. The absence of disclosed transaction advisers and methodology is real. The question of whether foreign majority control of a mobile money system used by 38 million people constitutes a national security risk is real and unresolved.

Gachoka’s petition joins a pattern of legal challenges to Ruto-era privatisation and infrastructure transactions — a pattern that includes the controversially abandoned Adani Group concession at JKIA, a deal that similarly collapsed under the weight of legal challenge, public outrage, and international scrutiny. Whether the Vodacom-Safaricom deal proves more durable — or more defensible — remains entirely to be seen.

THE VERDICT THE COUNTRY IS WAITING FOR

As of February 25, 2026, no injunction has frozen the deal. Parliament’s window has not yet closed. The regulatory approvals queue is long. And in the corridors of Milimani’s Constitutional Division, three separate petitions are circling what may be Kenya’s most consequential privatisation decision since independence.

The government says the sale is lawful, prudent, and structured to preserve Kenya’s interests. The petitioners say it is a constitutional crime dressed in infrastructure rhetoric. Vodacom says it is merely a buyer negotiating at arm’s length with a willing sovereign seller. And somewhere in the middle of all this sits Safaricom itself — silent, listing on the NSE, processing 100 million M-Pesa transactions a day — indifferent, for now, to who owns it.

The question before the High Court, before Parliament, and ultimately before the Kenyan public is deceptively simple: is this a strategic sale in the national interest — or is it, as Tony Gachoka insists in his most unguarded moments, a theft carried out in broad daylight with a parliamentary clock as its alibi?

February 26, 2026
American Investor Claims He Was Scammed Sh225 Million in 88 Nairobi Real Estate Deal

NAIROBI, February 24, 2026 — An American investor has moved to court claiming he was fleeced of Sh225 million in a botched off-plan property deal linked to the high-profile 88 Nairobi tower, one of the most aggressively marketed luxury developments in the capital.

In papers filed before the Environment and Land Court at Milimani, the investor identified as KYH paints a grim picture of what he describes as a calculated scheme that saw him lose control of more than Sh161 million after committing to purchase ten premium apartments in the development.

The project, undertaken by Eighty-Eight Nairobi Limited, was marketed as a landmark residential skyscraper in Upper Hill, touted as Africa’s tallest residential tower and a symbol of opulence.

KYH says he signed the agreement in March 2024 at a total consideration of Sh225 million, drawn by promises of high returns and world-class finishes.

According to the court filings, by October 2024 he had fully paid for seven of the units, remitting about $1.25 million, more than 70 percent of the purchase price. He claims he was then hit with a final notice demanding an additional $250,000 within three days, failure to which the developer would cancel the agreement.

The investor argues that the notice period was unreasonable, particularly given that he is based in the United States and frequently travels.

He further alleges that despite instructing the developer to channel all formal communication through his Kenyan lawyers, critical notices were sent directly to him, a move he terms deliberate and designed to trigger a technical default.

“What was presented as Nairobi’s iconic address has turned into a financial trap,” he states in a sworn affidavit, accusing the developer of denying him a fair opportunity to regularise the alleged arrears.

The suit also names Jonathan Jackson, associated with the project through the Lordship Group, as having played a central role in marketing the development to diaspora investors. The tower was widely promoted overseas as a premier investment opportunity offering luxury living and strong capital appreciation.

Other respondents in the case include Bank of Baroda, the Nairobi Lands Registrar and the Attorney-General.

KYH is seeking declarations that the termination of his agreement was unlawful and that his proprietary interests in the fully paid units remain valid.

He wants the court to restrain enforcement of forfeiture clauses and to order restitution of the sums paid.

At the heart of the dispute is a contractual clause allowing the developer to retain up to 50 percent of the purchase price as liquidated damages in the event of default.

In this case, the investor says that would translate to roughly Sh113 million. He argues the amount is punitive, disproportionate and amounts to unjust enrichment.

He further alleges that the developer utilised his $1.25 million to fund construction while declining to transfer title or refund the money.

Under the agreement, any refund would allegedly be conditional upon resale of the units and would not attract interest, leaving him exposed indefinitely.

In a dramatic turn, the investor has urged the court to allow other buyers in similar circumstances within the same project to join the proceedings, potentially opening the door to a broader legal battle over off-plan sales practices.

The case adds to growing unease around Kenya’s off-plan property market, where glossy marketing campaigns targeting diaspora buyers have increasingly collided with disputes over delays, cancellations and forfeiture of deposits.

Critics have long faulted regulatory oversight, warning that weak enforcement creates fertile ground for abuse.

The respondents had not filed their defence by the time of publication. The matter is awaiting directions at the Milimani court.

For now, the dispute casts a long shadow over 88 Nairobi and raises fresh questions about risk, transparency and accountability in a property sector that continues to court investors with promises of prestige and profit.

February 24, 2026
Safaricom Faces Avalanche of Lawsuits Over Data Privacy as Acquitted Student Demands Sh200mn Compensation in 48 Hours

Safaricom PLC, Kenya’s dominant telecommunications operator with more than 46 million subscribers, finds itself at the centre of an escalating legal storm that lawyers warn could unleash a torrent of constitutional petitions challenging how the company has handled customer data when cooperating with law enforcement agencies.

The crisis was triggered by a ruling handed down on February 19 by Principal Magistrate Carolyne Nyaguthii Mugo at the Milimani Chief Magistrate’s Court in Nairobi, which acquitted David Oaga Mokaya, a 24-year-old university student, of cybercrime charges.

Prosecutors had alleged that Mokaya published a manipulated social media image depicting a funeral procession with a casket draped in the Kenyan flag, captioned as showing President William Ruto’s body leaving Lee Funeral Home.

The magistrate threw out the charges under Section 215 of the Criminal Procedure Code, finding that the prosecution had failed to prove its case beyond reasonable doubt. Crucially, she excoriated investigators for seizing and forensically examining Mokaya’s electronic devices without first obtaining valid court orders — a procedural failure she said rendered the evidence obtained constitutionally inadmissible.

Within hours of the acquittal, Mokaya’s legal team — comprising advocates Danstan Omari, Shadrack Wambui, and Martina Swiga — issued a 48-hour demand notice to Safaricom PLC, seeking Sh200 million in damages for what they describe as the unlawful disclosure of their client’s location data and personal information to investigators in the absence of a court order.

The demand threatens constitutional proceedings at the High Court’s Constitutional and Human Rights Division should Safaricom decline to admit liability.

‘For the police to obtain your location or personal data from Safaricom, they must first obtain a court order. Without that order, any disclosure is unconstitutional.’ Danstan Omari, advocate for David Mokaya

The ‘Hard Place and the Rock’ Dilemma

Legal analysts and market observers are already describing Safaricom’s predicament as a no-win situation. If the company contests the claim and loses at trial, it faces the prospect of opening the floodgates to thousands of similar lawsuits from Kenyans who believe their data was shared with the Directorate of Criminal Investigations (DCI) or other security agencies without judicial authorisation.

Conversely, should the company settle out of court, the precedent set by even a confidential agreement could embolden further claimants.

The stakes are particularly high given what lawyers describe as systematic and longstanding data-sharing practices between Safaricom and law enforcement.

In November 2024, an investigation by journalists Namir Shabibi and Claire Lauterbach, published in partnership with Kenya’s Daily Nation, alleged that Safaricom had, for years, given security agencies virtually unfettered access to subscriber data — including call data records (CDRs) and real-time location information — without court orders, facilitating the tracking of suspects later linked to enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings.

The Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC) and Muslims for Human Rights (MUHURI) issued a formal open letter to Safaricom in late 2024 demanding an accounting of the allegations and warning of legal consequences.

Safaricom, through its lawyers, denied the allegations as “not only false but also malicious.” The company has maintained publicly that it shares customer data only when “explicitly required via a court order.”

A Company Already Besieged

The Mokaya case is far from the only data-related litigation confronting the Nairobi Stock Exchange-listed company.

In 2025, Safaricom was named as a defendant in a KES 1.432 billion lawsuit filed in February, arising from an alleged breach of a central development server in its finance department that is claimed to have exposed approximately 43 million customer records.

That suit also names the Attorney General and the Director of Public Prosecutions, with the complainant alleging that the DCI and the Serious Crimes Unit conspired with Safaricom to suppress evidence and fabricate exhibits.

Separately, two former senior Safaricom managers stand accused in both civil and criminal proceedings of extracting and attempting to sell personal data belonging to 11.5 million subscribers — approximately 23 per cent of the company’s customer base — to a major sports betting firm.

That data cache included full names, national ID numbers, passport numbers, M-Pesa transaction histories, precise location data, and gambling records, representing what some have characterised as potentially the largest corporate privacy violation in African history. The civil case, in which settlement talks collapsed in October 2025, is now headed for a full hearing.

In February 2025, the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner (ODPC) ordered Safaricom and Becton Dickinson East Africa to pay damages of Sh250,000 each for unlawfully processing the personal data of a former employee, Catherine Kainyu Murithi, without her consent — a ruling that, while modest in quantum, established a precedent for regulatory accountability.

‘The David Mokaya case is a landmark decision that is going to bring sanity to the telecommunications sector.’ Danstan Omari, advocate

The Constitutional Framework

Kenya’s Data Protection Act, enacted in 2019, established comprehensive obligations on data controllers and processors, including telecommunications companies, prohibiting the sharing of personal data without the data subject’s consent or a lawful basis such as a court order.

The Act is enforced by the ODPC, which has gradually stepped up its regulatory posture in recent years.

The constitutional dimension of the Mokaya claim rests primarily on Article 31, which guarantees every person the right to privacy including in respect of their communications, home, and personal information, and Article 28, which protects human dignity.

The legal team argues that personal data — messages, contacts, location, and financial records — are extensions of a person’s dignity and are entitled to heightened protection.

The Milimani ruling reinforces a growing body of Kenyan jurisprudence holding that electronic devices attract “heightened constitutional protection” by virtue of the extensive personal data they contain, and that any search or extraction of that data must be preceded by proper judicial authorisation.

The magistrate’s explicit condemnation of the investigators’ failure to produce valid warrants during the Mokaya trial is already being cited by legal practitioners as a significant elaboration of digital rights standards.

Potential Floodgate of Claims

Human rights lawyers and civil society organisations warn that the Mokaya judgment, if the constitutional petition proceeds and succeeds, could open the way for a far larger wave of litigation.

Thousands of Kenyans who were arrested, prosecuted, or subjected to surveillance in cases that relied on subscriber data shared by Safaricom without a court order may now have a constitutional cause of action against the company.

The 2024 anti-Finance Bill protests, during which civil society groups accused Safaricom of facilitating the tracking of demonstrators in real time, generated particular public anger and are likely to produce their own tranche of potential claimants.

Advocate Omari described the forthcoming petition as “potentially precedent-setting,” arguing it would compel the courts to definitively resolve how telecommunications companies must balance cooperation with law enforcement against their constitutional and statutory obligations to subscribers.

Danstan Omari.

“This case could redefine how telecom companies cooperate with law enforcement agencies,” he said, adding that its implications for digital surveillance practices would be “far-reaching.”

In Kenya, courts have already allowed class action suits to proceed against Safaricom, with the High Court in an earlier case permitting senior counsel to publish notices inviting subscribers to join constitutional petitions.

The legal infrastructure for aggregated claims therefore already exists and is familiar to the judiciary.

Safaricom’s Position and Commercial Exposure

Safaricom, which reported revenues of Sh311.6 billion in its most recent financial year and holds a dominant position in Kenya’s mobile money ecosystem through its M-Pesa platform, has not publicly responded to the Mokaya demand notice as of the time of publication.

The company’s published privacy policy states that it does not share customer information unless required by law or a court order, and it holds multiple internationally recognised data security certifications, including ISO 27701 and ISO 27001.

It is regulated by the ODPC, the Communications Authority of Kenya, and the Central Bank of Kenya.

The company has historically maintained that interactions with its Law Enforcement Liaison Office operate within the bounds of the law.

However, critics argue that the very existence of a dedicated liaison structure facilitating data flows to security agencies — particularly given findings about CDR handling and alleged manipulation of records surfaced in investigative journalism — points to systemic practices that courts have yet to fully scrutinise.

Investors tracking Safaricom’s shares on the Nairobi Securities Exchange will note that a sustained legal campaign, particularly one that captures public attention and attracts additional petitioners, carries not only direct financial liability but reputational damage in a market where trust in data stewardship is increasingly valued by both consumers and institutional stakeholders.

What Happens Next

The 48-hour ultimatum issued to Safaricom expired on February 22, 2026. Should the company fail to respond or decline to admit liability, Omari has committed to filing a constitutional petition at the High Court the following Monday morning.

A successful petition seeking Sh200 million in damages would, legal practitioners note, not be the end but the beginning: it would crystallise a cause of action that tens of thousands of Kenyans could replicate.

The case also arrives at a moment of heightened scrutiny for the relationship between African telecommunications companies and state security apparatus more broadly.

From Nigeria to Ethiopia to South Africa, regulators and civil society groups have pushed for clearer legal frameworks governing when and how network operators may disclose subscriber data to authorities.

The outcome of the Mokaya constitutional petition, and any eventual class action that follows, is therefore likely to be watched beyond Kenya’s borders.

For Safaricom, caught between the demands of law enforcement agencies that depend on its cooperation and the constitutional rights of the 46 million subscribers whose data it holds, the Mokaya case has crystallised a tension that the company can no longer defer.

The question now is not whether it will face a wave of data privacy litigation, but how large and how organised that wave will be.

February 21, 2026
Omari Threatens Safaricom With Sh1 Trillion Lawsuit Over Mass Data Breach Following Mokaya’s Landmark Ruling

NAIROBI, Kenya — Firebrand lawyer Danstan Omari has fired the opening salvo of what could become the most consequential legal battle in Kenya’s telecommunications history, threatening to drag Safaricom into a Sh1 trillion class action lawsuit on behalf of millions of Kenyans whose private data he claims the company has been routinely handing over to the Directorate of Criminal Investigations without court orders.

The explosive threat comes hours after the Milimani Chief Magistrate’s Court acquitted university student David Mokaya on Thursday in a ruling that tore through the prosecution’s case and landed squarely on the doorstep of Kenya’s most profitable corporation.

Omari, never one to speak in whispers, went straight for the jugular.

“Safaricom must send us a cheque of 200 million shillings by Monday for giving David Mokaya’s location to DCI,” the lawyer declared. “Failure to do so will lead to the biggest lawsuit of the century, that will see them pay over 1 trillion shillings to all Kenyans whom they have leaked their data.”

The warning landed like a thunderclap across the country’s corporate and legal landscape. If Omari makes good on his promise, Safaricom, which serves over 42 million subscribers and commands a market capitalisation that makes it the largest company on the Nairobi Securities Exchange, could find itself defending not one aggrieved client but an entire nation.

The ruling that started it all

Principal Magistrate Carolyne Nyaguthii Mugo acquitted Mokaya under Section 215 of the Criminal Procedure Code after finding that prosecutors had failed to prove their case against him in Criminal Case No. MCCR/E1161/2024.

Mokaya had been charged under Section 22(1) of the Computer Misuse and Cybercrimes Act following his alleged publication of an image depicting a funeral procession with a casket draped in the Kenyan flag on November 13, 2024, captioned “President William Ruto’s body leaves Lee Funeral Home.”

But it was not the content of the post that undid the prosecution. It was the manner in which investigators went about their work. Magistrate Mugo found that Mokaya’s electronic devices were seized unlawfully and subjected to forensic examination without judicial authorisation.

The court went further, emphasising that electronic devices attract heightened constitutional protection given the volume of personal data they contain, and that cybercrime investigations must strictly comply with legal procedure.

The prosecution, the court held, had also failed to conclusively link Mokaya to the social media post. He walked free.

Safaricom in the crosshairs

Omari’s attention then turned from the state to the telecoms giant, and his language left little room for diplomatic interpretation.

He argued that Safaricom violated Article 31 of the Constitution, which guarantees every person the right to privacy, including the right not to have their personal data collected or shared without consent or a valid court order.

“For the police to obtain your location or personal data from Safaricom, they must first obtain a court order. Without that order, any disclosure is unconstitutional,” Omari said.

He further invoked Article 28, the constitutional provision protecting human dignity, arguing that personal data, private communications, contacts and location information are inseparable from a person’s dignity.

“Your personal data, your messages, your contacts, and your location are part of your dignity and privacy. These rights were violated,” he said.

Omari told The Star that his legal team has already issued a formal demand letter to Safaricom seeking the initial Sh200 million in compensation for Mokaya’s case alone. He said if the company does not respond satisfactorily before Monday morning, his team will be at the High Court’s Constitutional and Human Rights Division at 10 a.m. to file the constitutional petition.

And from there, he warned, the case expands dramatically. Every Kenyan whose data Safaricom has disclosed to law enforcement without a court order, he argued, has a justiciable claim.

A system under scrutiny

Legal observers say the Mokaya ruling has cracked open a conversation that Kenya’s security establishment has long preferred to keep behind closed doors. The relationship between telecommunications companies and law enforcement in Kenya has operated in a grey zone, with the DCI regularly accessing call records, location data and subscriber information in the course of investigations. The mechanics of how that access is granted, and whether court orders are routinely obtained, has rarely faced this level of judicial scrutiny.

The Data Protection Act of 2019 is explicit in its requirements around consent and lawful basis for processing personal data. Critics have long argued that implementation has lagged, particularly where national security or criminal investigations are invoked as justification.

Omari is betting that the Mokaya ruling gives him precisely the judicial foundation he needs to challenge that system.

“The David Mokaya case is a landmark decision that is going to bring sanity to the telecommunications sector,” he said.

The stakes

Safaricom has not publicly responded to the threats as of the time of publication. The company, which processes billions of transactions daily and sits at the centre of Kenya’s digital economy through its M-Pesa mobile money platform, has in the past cooperated closely with investigative agencies.

Whether Omari’s trillion-shilling threat is legal theatre or the beginning of a genuine class action that reshapes the relationship between big telecom and Kenyan citizens will become clearer on Monday. What is certain is that Magistrate Mugo’s judgment has set something in motion that neither Safaricom nor the DCI had anticipated when they built their case against a university student over a social media post.

David Mokaya went to court facing prosecution. He left it holding a potential weapon. And his lawyer has pointed it at one of the most powerful corporations in East Africa.

February 21, 2026
REIT by ALPH Rocked With Management Wrangles as Foreign Investor Fights Ouster

The story of Africa Logistics Properties Holdings Limited was supposed to be one of triumph. A decade of quietly assembling institutional-grade warehousing across Kenya’s logistics corridors, from the gleaming bays of Tatu City to the sprawling parks of Tilisi in Limuru, had culminated in a historic first: East Africa’s inaugural industrial Real Estate Investment Trust, denominated in US dollars and set to debut on the Nairobi Securities Exchange on March 11.

Institutional giants including British International Investment, the International Finance Corporation and Maris Capital had lined up behind it.

The Private Infrastructure Development Group had pumped in $15 million as an anchor investor. Everything, it appeared, was in place.

Then came the lawsuit.

Asbury Maruza Chikwanha, a Zimbabwean and Australian national who served as a director at multiple entities within the ALPH group, has rushed to the High Court seeking urgent orders to halt any changes in the ownership, directorship and assets of nine companies at the heart of the REIT’s corporate structure.

His petition, filed just days before the offer window closes on February 27, alleges that he was fraudulently, unlawfully and secretly erased from the registers of directors of nine ALP group companies, including ALP Management Kenya Limited, ALP North Limited, ALP West Limited and several sister entities, without notice, without a valid meeting and without a lawful resolution, in what he describes as a brazen violation of the Companies Act.

The case has sent tremors through Kenya’s nascent REIT market at the worst possible moment.

The ALP Industrial REIT, structured as an income REIT obligated to distribute at least 80 percent of its distributable income to unit holders, was positioned to make history as the first dollar-denominated issuance on the Nairobi Securities Exchange.

Capital markets watchers had celebrated its arrival as proof that Kenya’s financial architecture was maturing beyond equities and local-currency bonds. Now, with days to go before the offer closes, the vehicle’s promoter is fighting a public legal battle that lays bare the turbulence raging behind the curtain.

A Director Vanishes From the Registry

Mr Chikwanha’s account of events reads like a corporate thriller. In his court documents, he states that at no point did the Registrar of Companies or the Business Registration Service contact him to verify whether he had resigned or whether due process had been followed before effecting the sweeping changes to the statutory registers.

He says he wrote repeatedly to the Registrar of Companies demanding that his removal be reversed but has yet to receive a substantive response, even as the registry quietly processed what he characterises as fabricated filings.

The consequence of his purported ouster, he argues, has been severe and immediate. He has been locked out of corporate governance decisions, excluded from deliberations over asset disposals, company restructuring and the very REIT-related transactions that are now drawing international investor attention and hundreds of millions of shillings in committed capital.

He is seeking court orders compelling the Attorney General, the Registrar of Companies and the Business Registration Service to freeze any further filings, transfers or corporate actions touching on the directorships, shareholding or assets of the nine named entities.

The High Court is expected to rule on his application on February 25, two days before the REIT offer is scheduled to close.

The collision of the court date with the offer deadline is no mere coincidence in the view of market observers; it concentrates maximum legal and commercial pressure on ALPH at precisely the moment its fundraising campaign reaches its climax.

Racial Discrimination Claims Layer On Fresh Controversy

The High Court petition is only one front in what has become a multi-pronged legal war. In a separate action before the Employment and Labour Relations Court, Mr Chikwanha alleges that his termination from ALP Management Kenya Limited in September 2023 was not only unlawful but racially discriminatory.

He is seeking $2.8 million, approximately Sh364 million, in compensation, a figure that includes unpaid equity-related benefits he says he was denied as part of what he characterises as a targeted and discriminatory redundancy process.

The racial discrimination allegation, explosive in its own right, has drawn particular attention given that ALPH counts among its shareholders some of the world’s most prominent development finance institutions, entities whose mandates are explicitly anchored in principles of fairness, inclusion and ethical governance.

Neither British International Investment, the IFC nor Maris Capital has been accused of any wrongdoing by Mr Chikwanha, and his court filings are careful to draw that distinction.

But the reputational cloud that hangs over the case inevitably touches the broader ALPH ecosystem in which they have placed significant capital.

ALPH Fires Back: ‘He Was Never More Than an Employee’

ALPH and its affiliated entities are not taking the challenge lying down. In their court filings, the respondents have mounted a categorical rebuttal.

They contend that Mr Chikwanha’s appointment as a director of the group companies arose solely from his status as an employee of ALP Management Kenya Limited, an arrangement that they say was extinguished when his employment ended through a legitimate redundancy process in September 2023.

Once employment ceased, they argue, there was no legal basis for him to continue holding any directorship within the group. The resolutions removing him were, in their telling, validly passed, properly documented and correctly lodged with the Business Registration Service, which duly processed the changes.

The companies have also raised procedural objections that could derail Mr Chikwanha’s application before it is ever heard on its merits.

They argue the High Court petition is both res judicata and sub judice, pointing to the parallel proceedings already underway at the Employment and Labour Relations Court and in a separate judicial review case.

If the High Court accepts that argument, the petition could be thrown out on jurisdictional grounds alone, clearing the path for the REIT offer to close and the listing to proceed on schedule.

A Landmark Deal in Jeopardy?

The ALP REIT had, until this week, been riding a wave of exceptional momentum. Authorised by the Capital Markets Authority on December 8, 2025, and structured as a restricted offer open only to professional investors, it was issued at a unit price of one US dollar, with a green shoe option allowing for up to nine million additional units should demand exceed expectations.

The vehicle’s seed assets, portions of the established ALP North Park in Tatu City and ALP West in Tilisi, represent some of the most modern warehousing infrastructure in Sub-Saharan Africa, and its admission to the NSE’s Sustainable Finance Centre of Excellence gave it an environmental credibility that resonated with international capital.

The REIT was also designed to be a capital markets milestone of a different order. It would be the first US dollar-denominated security ever to trade on the Nairobi Securities Exchange, opening a door that Kenyan regulators and the NSE itself had been pushing against for years.

For the country’s pension funds, insurance companies and institutional investors starved of hard-currency investment options on home soil, it promised something genuinely new.

All of that promise now shares space with a courtroom drama that market observers say could, at minimum, cast a shadow over investor confidence in the final days of the fundraising window.

Whether the High Court grants Mr Chikwanha’s freezing orders on February 25 or dismisses the petition outright, the episode has already drawn uncomfortable scrutiny to the internal governance of a company that is asking professional investors to entrust it with tens of millions of dollars.

The Regulator Watches

The Capital Markets Authority, which authorised the REIT and whose mandate includes protecting investor interests in listed vehicles, has not publicly commented on the litigation. Its position in the coming days will be closely watched. Mr Chikwanha’s petition names the Attorney General and the Business Registration Service as respondents and accuses them of failing in their duty to verify the authenticity of documents filed to effect his removal.

If the court finds merit in that accusation, the implications extend well beyond this single case, raising questions about the adequacy of safeguards in Kenya’s company registry that could prove unsettling for foreign investors considering other Kenyan market instruments.

For now, East Africa’s first industrial REIT teeters between its historic promise and an increasingly messy legal reckoning. The warehouses of Tatu City and Tilisi stand as monuments to a decade of disciplined development.

Whether the boardroom battles that have erupted in their shadow will ultimately derail, delay or merely bruise ALPH’s milestone moment is a question that Kenya’s High Court is poised to answer, with very little time to spare.

February 20, 2026
Safaricom Under Storm As Acquitted Student Vows Massive Lawsuit After Teleco Admits Handing DCI His Private Data Without Court Order

The acquittal of Moi University student David Mokaya by the Milimani Law Courts has opened a legal Pandora’s box that threatens to embarrass both Kenya’s dominant telecommunications company and the Directorate of Criminal Investigations in equal measure, as the young man’s lawyers announced plans to pursue the State for malicious prosecution while the court itself placed Safaricom on notice over what it described as a blatant and illegal breach of a subscriber’s constitutional rights.

Magistrate Caroyne Mugo, in a ruling delivered on February 19, 2026, did not merely acquit Mokaya of charges that he published false information about President William Ruto.

She went further, pointedly flagging Safaricom as a company with serious questions to answer after it emerged during trial that the telecommunications giant had surrendered Mokaya’s private subscriber data to police investigators without any court order authorising the disclosure.

The magistrate’s remarks were not obiter.

They were deliberate, targeted and carry the weight of judicial censure that Safaricom’s legal and regulatory affairs teams will find impossible to ignore.

The facts of the case, as they emerged during weeks of testimony, paint a disturbing picture of a security apparatus that moved with remarkable speed and remarkable disregard for constitutional safeguards once a social media post touching on the President’s name entered the system.

On November 13, 2024, a post appeared on platform X under the username “Landlord @bozgabi” depicting a funeral procession with a military escort carrying a casket draped in the Kenyan flag, accompanied by a caption that investigators said referenced President Ruto.

Within twenty-four hours, a senior police officer identified in court as Michael K. Sang had written directly to Safaricom demanding the subscriber details behind the account.

By November 15, a team of detectives from the Serious Crimes Unit had descended on Eldoret, tracked Mokaya to an area opposite Moi University’s Annex, and arrested him.

A Samsung phone, a laptop and his identity card were seized before anyone had troubled themselves to obtain a search warrant.

It was Chief Inspector Bosco Kisau who delivered the most damaging admissions from the prosecution’s own witness stand.

Under cross-examination by defence lawyers Danstan Omari, Ian Mutiso and Shadrack Wambui, Kisau conceded that he had not been served with a court order authorising the investigation of Mokaya’s devices. He admitted he was unaware of a High Court ruling requiring law enforcement to obtain judicial authority before compelling mobile service providers to release subscriber details.

He further admitted that he could not confirm the origin, source or geographic location of the disputed post.

He could not confirm whether the SIM card linked to the account had been properly registered. He had not recorded a statement from the complainant, President Ruto.

And crucially, when pressed directly, he conceded that the post in question did not actually contain a photograph of the President.

Safaricom employee Daniel Hamisi, who also took the stand, confirmed that he had released Mokaya’s details upon a written request from a senior police officer, without any court order having been presented or demanded.

Safaricom shop.

His testimony crystallised what civil liberties advocates have long argued: that Kenya’s Data Protection Act of 2019 and the constitutional right to privacy exist on paper in a manner that is, in practice, subordinate to a phone call or a letter bearing a senior officer’s signature when matters touching on political figures are involved.

The magistrate was unsparing.

She found that police had failed miserably in their duty, that the accused had been framed, and that no direct evidence linked Mokaya to the alleged offence.

She noted that Mokaya’s social media account was shared with three other individuals who were never traced or called as witnesses, creating reasonable doubt that could not be resolved by the prosecution’s threadbare evidence.

She noted that the alleged offence was said to have been committed in Nairobi while Mokaya was physically in Eldoret.

She noted the complete absence of forensic or digital evidence tying him to the post. She observed that the court could not rule out the possibility that the post itself had been fabricated and planted on an account associated with his name.

She also noted something that ought to concern the leadership of the Safaricom corporation and its board.

The company’s compliance with an unlawful police request, without demanding judicial authorisation, may constitute a violation of the Data Protection Act.

That legislation imposes clear obligations on data controllers and processors regarding the circumstances under which personal data may be disclosed to third parties, including law enforcement.

Disclosure without a court order, in circumstances where one is legally required, is not a procedural technicality.

It is a substantive breach carrying potential regulatory consequences from the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner and civil liability in the courts.

Omari and Mutiso, who led Mokaya’s defence and who are no strangers to high-profile constitutional litigation, wasted no time in signalling what comes next.

They told the court after the ruling that they intend to sue the State for malicious prosecution. Legal analysts familiar with their track record consider this not an idle threat but a certainty.

A malicious prosecution claim would require establishing that the prosecution was initiated without reasonable and probable cause, that it was actuated by malice, and that it terminated in the accused’s favour. On the facts as found by the magistrate, all three elements appear to be richly available.

Mokaya’s tweet he made after being freed by the court.

The civil suit, when filed, will almost certainly name Safaricom as a defendant or at minimum as a party from whom discovery is sought.

The company will need to account for its internal processes around law enforcement data requests. It will need to explain why its compliance team released subscriber data without demanding what the law requires.

It will need to address whether this was an isolated incident or systemic practice. These are questions that Safaricom’s corporate communications machinery cannot deflect with a press statement.

For Mokaya himself, the personal cost of this ordeal is not easily quantified.

He was charged on November 13, 2024, and the case dragged through a full trial over a period of roughly three months.

His lawyer told the court that the student could not even speak in the immediate aftermath of the ruling due to mental trauma and shock that had gripped him since his arrest.

He spent the duration of the case on a bond of one hundred thousand shillings or a cash bail of fifty thousand shillings, money that a finance student at a public university would not easily produce. His devices were confiscated. His movements were constrained. His studies were disrupted.

David Mokaya during a past court session.

The broader significance of this case extends well beyond one young man’s acquittal.

It arrives at a moment when the relationship between digital speech, state power and telecommunications infrastructure is under intense scrutiny across Africa.

Kenya’s Data Protection Act was celebrated when it passed as a significant step toward aligning the country with international data protection standards.

The Mokaya case suggests that the legislation’s practical force remains weak in the face of political pressure and institutional habit.

When a senior police officer can write a letter to a telecommunications company on a Tuesday and have subscriber location data by Wednesday morning without a magistrate or judge having been involved at any point, the statute’s protections are nominal at best.

The Law Society of Kenya, through Mutiso’s involvement in the case, has effectively placed its institutional weight behind the argument that telecom companies must resist unlawful data requests regardless of who is making them and regardless of whose name appears in the underlying social media post.

That argument will now be tested in the civil courts, where Mokaya’s lawyers say they will press it with full force.

Safaricom has not issued a public statement on the matter at the time of publication.

The company, which controls the overwhelming majority of Kenya’s mobile subscriber market and whose M-Pesa platform is embedded in the economic life of tens of millions of Kenyans, has significant reputational exposure if the civil litigation proceeds and produces further uncomfortable disclosures about the ease with which law enforcement has historically been able to extract personal data from its systems.

The magistrate reminded police, in terms that deserve to be read widely, that the duty to observe the law does not diminish because the name of the President or any other powerful figure appears in a social media post.

She reminded them that cases of this nature must be handled with caution and free from public or political pressure.

She reminded them that the criminal procedure code and the Constitution are not suspended when someone posts something uncomfortable about a head of state.

For a twenty-four-year-old finance student from Moi University who spent months answering charges that a court ultimately found may have been built on a fabricated foundation, those reminders came at significant personal cost.

The question that will now occupy Kenya’s legal community is whether the institutions that failed him will be made to pay one.

February 20, 2026
The M-Pesa Ecosystem in 2026: How Instant Deposits Are Redefining User Expectations for Withdrawals

The New Benchmark: From Deposit Speed to Withdrawal Demand

The Psychological Impact of One-Second Deposits on Payout Patience

Instant deposits change how players think about money and time in online casinos. When adding cash is super quick, that moment to stop and think disappears. That pause used to give you time to consider how much to bet, how long to play, or if you should even play at all. Without it, spending feels easy, almost unreal, which makes it easier to keep adding more money when you’re emotional.

This speed impacts how patient people are with payouts. Players who can add funds right away are more likely to chase quick wins instead of waiting to withdraw at certain times. People start to see deposits as actions they can take back, not as real money gone. Because of this, they don’t feel the need to cash out as fast, and they’re okay with taking more risks, especially after almost winning or losing fast.

There’s also something interesting going on. When deposits are instant but withdrawals take time for checks and processing, players start to think delays are normal, even if they get annoyed. Over time, this difference can change what people expect: adding cash fast feels like you’re in charge, while waiting to get paid feels like the casino is making things hard, not just keeping things safe.

If you’re good at staying in control, knowing this is key. One-second deposits are nice to have, not a plan. To stay patient with payouts, you need to take steps: decide when to withdraw, set rules for taking breaks, and make budgets for each session. In fast systems, being in control has to be a choice, because the casino isn’t going to make things feel slow for you.

The Technical Reality: Why Withdrawals Can’t Always Mirror Deposits

Withdrawing money from an online casino often feels slower than making a deposit, and this difference can be frustrating if you do not understand what is happening behind the scenes. In reality, the process is deliberately more structured, and for good reason.

Deposits are designed to be instant. Casinos want players to start playing without delays, so payment systems are optimized for speed and simplicity. Withdrawals, however, involve several additional checks. Before approving a payout, the casino must confirm that the funds are legitimate, that bonus conditions have been met, and that the account complies with verification and responsible gaming requirements. These steps protect both the player and the platform from fraud, chargebacks, and regulatory breaches.

The withdrawal journey usually starts in your account’s cashier section, where you submit a payout request and select a payment method. From that moment, the casino’s internal team reviews the request. This manual or semi-automated review is one of the main reasons withdrawals take longer than deposits. It is especially common for first-time withdrawals or larger amounts, where identity verification and transaction limits are checked more carefully.

Payment method choice also matters. E-wallets and cryptocurrencies typically process faster because they bypass traditional banking systems. Bank cards and wire transfers, on the other hand, depend on external financial institutions with their own processing schedules, which can add several business days. Larger withdrawals may also be split into multiple payments to stay within daily or weekly limits.

Most reputable casinos provide full transparency through a transaction or account history page. Checking this section allows you to track the status of your withdrawal, understand any delays, and review past deposits and payouts. Over time, this habit helps players manage expectations, improve bankroll discipline, and feel more in control of their gaming finances.

Navigating the 2026 M-Pesa Payout Landscape

Identifying Platforms with Genuinely Instant M-Pesa Withdrawals

Choosing a platform with genuinely fast withdrawals is not a matter of marketing slogans. It requires a structured evaluation of how an online casino operates in real conditions. From an expert perspective, instant or near-instant payouts are usually the result of strong regulation, efficient payment infrastructure, and a clear understanding of local player behavior.

The first checkpoint is licensing. Platforms that hold a valid national license or a well-recognized international one are under constant regulatory pressure to process withdrawals fairly and on time. Regulators do not tolerate unexplained delays, which is why licensed casinos are far more likely to offer predictable and fast cash-out timelines.

Local currency support is another practical indicator. When a casino allows players to transact in their domestic currency, it removes unnecessary conversion layers. Fewer intermediaries mean fewer delays, and this directly impacts how quickly funds reach a player’s account.

Equally important is the range of local payment methods. Casinos that integrate popular regional wallets and mobile money services are technically prepared for fast payouts. These systems are built for real-time or same-day transfers, unlike traditional banking channels that rely on slower clearing cycles.

Game portfolio also plays an indirect role. Platforms that focus on high-engagement, fast-round games popular across African markets tend to optimize their payment flows. Players in these games expect frequent deposits and withdrawals, and operators adapt their systems accordingly.

Finally, mobile performance should not be underestimated. In many African countries, the majority of transactions happen on smartphones. Casinos with well-designed mobile apps or responsive sites usually process withdrawals faster because their systems are optimized for mobile verification, notifications, and wallet integration.

In short, platforms with instant withdrawals are rarely accidental. They are built around compliance, local relevance, and payment efficiency—factors that consistently separate reliable casinos from those that only promise speed.

Transaction Limits and How They Affect Your Cashout Strategy

Transaction limits quietly control how well you can take money out from a site. Many users only look at how fast withdrawals are, but limits often decide if getting your money is easy or a drawn-out pain.

Each casino sets its own minimum and maximum withdrawal amounts, and these can change based on how you pay. Mobile and online wallets usually let you take out smaller amounts more often, but bank transfers might need higher minimums and have tighter maximums. Knowing these limits helps you pick the right way to get your money.

Limits also change how you plan. If you have more money than the maximum withdrawal, you might have to split your withdrawal into several parts. This can make the whole process take longer and might even cause extra checks. Users who plan their withdrawals ahead of time—keeping their balances within the site’s limits—usually have fewer problems.

Bonus rules add another thing to think about. Some deals limit how much you can withdraw until you bet a certain amount, which lowers how much you can actually take out. If you don’t pay attention to these rules, your withdrawals might get turned down or only partly done.

The easiest way to do things is to match how you play and how much you withdraw with the site’s limits from the beginning. Check the withdrawal limits before you deposit, pick payment methods with flexible limits, and don’t let your balance get too high to withdraw all at once. If you do this, transaction limits become a tool to help you plan instead of a problem.

Security and Verification in an Instant World

Enhanced KYC: The Necessary Step for Protecting Faster Payouts

Verification plays a decisive role in how quickly withdrawals are processed on platforms like 1xbet, and understanding this connection can save players both time and frustration. While fast payouts are often advertised, they are only truly fast when an account is fully compliant from the start.

The most important step is completing verification early. Delaying identity checks—or worse, attempting to register using someone else’s details—immediately raises red flags. From the operator’s perspective, an unverified account could belong to a minor or be linked to fraudulent activity. As a result, such accounts are monitored more closely, and every withdrawal request is likely to face additional scrutiny.

Account status also matters. Players who progress within the loyalty or VIP program at 1xBet often experience noticeably faster withdrawals. Higher status levels typically come with reduced bonus wagering requirements, which allows winnings to become withdrawable sooner. In many cases, trusted accounts with a strong history pass through fewer manual checks, making payouts feel almost instant.

Equally important is avoiding behavior that triggers security reviews. Multiple account creation, frequent VPN use, or attempts to exploit games with third-party software can all slow withdrawals dramatically. Even if no rules are ultimately broken, these actions invite investigations that delay payments.

Finally, withdrawal size influences speed. Large cashout requests are more likely to activate additional anti-money-laundering checks. From a practical standpoint, withdrawing moderate amounts in stages can often be faster than requesting one large payout, especially on newer or less-established accounts.

In short, fast withdrawals at 1xBet are not just about the payment method—they are the result of trust. Early verification, clean account behavior, realistic cashout sizing, and long-term engagement all work together to turn advertised payout speed into a real, consistent experience.

The Role of Biometric Confirmation on Your Mobile Device

Logging in with your face or fingerprint is quickly becoming normal for online casinos. Instead of usernames and passwords, you can use Face ID, Touch ID, or a fingerprint to get into your account. It’s a faster, easier, and safer way to log in.

For players, this means no more struggling to remember login info. Getting in becomes almost instant, which is great for quick gaming. Instead of a bunch of steps, you go straight from logging in to playing.

It’s not just faster, it’s safer, too. Facial recognition and fingerprints are harder to steal than passwords. This lowers the chances of someone hacking your account, so you can feel better about your money.

It’s also more convenient. You can often use the same scan to confirm deposits and withdrawals, making it simple to manage your money. Along with mobile-friendly sites, this lets you play on the go without losing control or safety.

New players will appreciate how easy it is to log in. The simpler it is to get started, the more likely they are to stick around, try other games, and become regular players. Using biometrics isn’t just a tech thing—it builds trust and makes the user experience better and safer.

Future-Proofing Your Financial Flow

Building a Trusted Shortlist: Platforms Proven on M-Pesa Speed

Building a trusted shortlist of platforms known for fast M-Pesa payouts requires more than scanning promotional claims. Speed with mobile money is earned through consistent performance, local integration, and operational discipline—not slogans.

The first indicator is native M-Pesa integration. Platforms that treat M-Pesa as a core payment method, rather than a third-party add-on, process withdrawals faster and with fewer failures. These casinos usually allow both deposits and withdrawals directly to the same wallet, reducing reconciliation delays.

Next, look at player-verified payout history. Reputable platforms show a clear pattern: same-day or near-instant M-Pesa withdrawals reported repeatedly by real users. Isolated success stories are not enough; consistency across many accounts and withdrawal sizes is what proves reliability.

Verification readiness is another decisive factor. Casinos proven on M-Pesa speed typically encourage early KYC and process verified accounts with minimal friction. Once an account is trusted, payouts often move automatically without manual review.

Operational transparency also matters. Platforms that clearly state withdrawal limits, processing windows, and cut-off times rarely surprise players with delays. When issues occur, fast customer support and real-time status updates are strong signals of a mature payout system.

Finally, test the system yourself at low risk. Experienced players often make a small deposit, complete verification, and request a modest withdrawal to measure real M-Pesa speed before committing larger funds. Platforms that pass this test earn a place on a trusted shortlist.

In short, casinos proven on M-Pesa speed share common traits: deep local payment integration, verified account prioritization, consistent user feedback, and transparent payout rules. These are the platforms where “fast withdrawals” are not a promise—but a habit.

The Emerging Standard: Live Status Trackers for Withdrawal Requests

Following your card withdrawal on 1xBet is easier than you might think. The whole thing is clear and happens in your account, so you can watch every step of the way.

First, log in using the website or app. Then, go to the cashier or payments area and pick the withdrawal option. Pick your bank card (like Visa or MasterCard) from the list.

After picking your card, type in how much you want to take out and make sure your card info is correct. Getting this right is key, because even small mistakes can cause delays. Once you’ve checked everything, the system will ask you to verify the payment. Usually, this is done with a text or a security code sent to your phone to make sure it’s really you.

Once verified, the withdrawal is logged and has a status, like processing. From here, you can follow the progress right in your history. The status will show if it’s being reviewed, approved, or already sent.

This helps you know what to expect and eases any worries. You can see where your money is and know that once it leaves 1xBet, the final timing depends on your bank. This tracking makes withdrawals less stressful and more predictable.

FAQ

If a platform advertises instant M-Pesa deposits, are they legally required to offer instant withdrawals?

No. Platforms are not legally required to match instant M-Pesa deposits with instant withdrawals; payout speed depends on internal checks, verification status, and regulatory obligations.

What should a user check first if their “instant” M-Pesa withdrawal is delayed?

First, check your account verification status and withdrawal history to see if the request is under review or missing required confirmation.

How does integrating with other services like Airtel Money or banks affect a platform’s M-Pesa payout speed?

Integration with additional services can slow M-Pesa payouts, as funds may route through multiple systems, adding verification and processing time.

February 20, 2026
Turkish Airlines Kenya Workers Threaten Strike as Management Turns Deaf Ears on Grievances

The ink had barely dried on a back-to-work deal between Kenya’s aviation authorities and striking air traffic controllers when a second bombshell exploded across the tarmac at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport.

The Transport Workers Union of Kenya (TAWU), acting with the full backing of the Central Organisation of Trade Unions and the London-based International Transport Workers Federation, issued a formal 21-day strike notice to Turkish Airlines on February 13, 2026, accusing one of the world’s largest carriers by passenger volume of wilfully refusing to conclude a Collective Bargaining Agreement it has spent years pretending to negotiate.

The timing is devastating for Kenya’s aviation reputation.

Just seventy-two hours earlier, scenes of chaos gripped JKIA as the Kenya Aviation Workers Union (KAWU) pulled its members off the job at 6am on Monday, February 16, shutting down air traffic control at the nation’s busiest airport and triggering a domino collapse that no contingency plan could adequately contain.

Passengers sat on stationary aircraft for hours awaiting clearance for take-off. National Assembly Deputy Speaker Gladys Boss arrived at the airport only to find her morning flight cancelled.

The Kenya Airline Pilots Association issued an extraordinary safety warning, cautioning that crew fatigue resulting from cascading delays was pushing the industry toward a crisis that went far beyond industrial relations.

A CBA Dispute Born Before Some Airport Workers Were Adults

The grievances fuelling the TAWU notice against Turkish Airlines are not new. TAWU General Secretary Nicholas Otieno Ogola signed a notice accusing the Istanbul-headquartered carrier of a “continued refusal to conclude the Collective Bargaining Agreement and persistent failure to negotiate in good faith, notwithstanding prolonged negotiations.”

The dispute has already found its way before the courts, where a judge expressly urged both parties to engage constructively. The airline, according to the union, responded to that judicial nudge with studied indifference.

Turkish Airlines operates two daily departures between JKIA and Istanbul, offering 445 seats per day.

The Nairobi route is not a peripheral operation for the carrier; it is a critical artery serving Kenyan passengers connecting to Europe, North America, Asia and the Middle East.

A strike by its thirteen unionised Kenyan staff would be a localised but deeply symbolic rupture, one that could complicate the airline’s standing in an East African market it has worked hard to expand since it reopened its Mombasa route after a five-year hiatus just last year. Tellingly, a Turkish Airlines official told Business Daily Africa that only 48 of the CBA’s approximately 50 clauses had been concluded and that negotiations were continuing, a characterisation the union flatly rejects.

Two Days That Cost Kenya’s Economy Hundreds of Millions

The KAWU strike that immediately preceded the TAWU notice provides the starkest possible illustration of what happens when aviation labour disputes are allowed to fester unresolved for more than a decade.

KAWU’s last Collective Bargaining Agreement with the Kenya Civil Aviation Authority expired in 2015.

Eleven years passed without a salary review, without revised allowances, without updated terms of service, while KCAA management, according to the union’s secretary general Moss Ndiema, continued to enjoy improved remuneration. When KAWU finally issued its seven-day notice on February 8, courts attempted to intervene: Lady Justice Agnes Nzei issued temporary orders suspending the strike on Friday, February 13. The workers went out anyway.

The economic consequences were swift and brutal. The Fresh Produce Association of Kenya, whose members export cut flowers, fruits and vegetables through JKIA cargo terminals, calculated losses of Sh410 million for every single day that aviation workers stayed away.

The Kenya Association of Travel Agents estimated Sh2 million in lost ticket sales per day.

Live tracking data showed multiple flights delayed by more than two hours as of midday on February 16 alone, with Kenya Airways, Jambojet, Ethiopian Airlines, Uganda Airlines, RwandAir, Etihad Airways and Air Arabia all caught in the paralysis.

The strike was not an isolated grievance. KAWU’s Ndiema enumerated abuses that had accumulated over the better part of fifteen years: workers employed on rolling three-month and six-month contracts to fill permanently required positions, in direct contravention of court rulings that have repeatedly pronounced such arrangements unlawful; female contract employees denied medical cover for their newborn children; workers blocked from exercising their constitutional right to union membership; and a unilateral organisational restructuring by KCAA management that the union says was implemented without consultation and degrades established aviation structures.

A court order to renew the contract of Flight Operations Inspector Vivian Ongwae, issued by the Employment and Labour Relations Court in September 2025, was defied by KCAA management outright.

A Pattern of Institutional Contempt for Labour Rights

What makes both the KAWU and the TAWU disputes so damning is that they are part of a pattern rather than an aberration. In September 2025, workers at the Kenya Airports Authority threatened to strike over identically configured grievances: stalled CBAs and the systematic misuse of contract employment. Dialogue averted that walkout. Earlier that same year, in January 2026, KAWU convened a press conference at JKIA warning of a full shutdown of Kenyan airspace within seven days unless KCAA returned to the negotiating table with what the union called a realistic proposal. That ultimatum too was deflected, but not resolved, and the underlying conditions that produced it remained entirely untouched, which is precisely why the February 16 strike became inevitable.

The pattern is not unique to Kenya. Across Europe, aviation labour disputes have become the defining operational risk of the post-pandemic era. In Germany, a 24-hour walkout by airport security workers and ground staff in March 2025 affected thirteen major airports including Frankfurt and Munich, cancelling more than 3,400 flights and stranding some 560,000 passengers. In France, air traffic control strikes occurred on 34 of 39 days between March and April 2024, disrupting more than 237,000 flights. Turkish Airlines itself has not been immune: German ground workers’ industrial action in March 2025 forced the carrier to cancel several Germany-bound routes, a precedent that will not be lost on TAWU’s strategists as they calculate the pressure points of the current dispute.

What distinguishes the Kenyan situation from its European counterparts is the sheer duration of institutional neglect. French and German workers typically strike over disputes that are months, occasionally a few years, in the making. KAWU’s workers went without a salary review for eleven years. TAWU’s members at Turkish Airlines have watched a CBA stall through court proceedings, judicial exhortations to negotiate in good faith, and prolonged talks that concluded 48 of the agreement’s 50 clauses while leaving the remaining two as perpetual hostages. In Kenya, institutional contempt for the CBA framework has become so normalised that workers have come to regard strikes not as a weapon of last resort but as the only negotiating tool that management is reliably capable of understanding.

The Safety Dimension That No One Can Afford to Ignore

The Kenya Airline Pilots Association (KALPA) injected a consideration into the February crisis that cuts through the sterile language of collective bargaining and reaches into the cockpit itself. In a statement on February 17, KALPA Secretary-General Captain Muriithi Nyagah warned that cascading delays were disrupting crew scheduling and mandatory rest periods with potentially catastrophic consequences for flight safety. “Aviation safety is non-negotiable,” KALPA said, invoking Flight Duty Period limitations that exist not as bureaucratic formality but as hard-won protections against the kind of fatigue that turns aircraft into projectiles. When the institutional failures of labour relations management reach the point at which pilots must issue public safety warnings about their own capacity to operate safely, the situation has ceased to be a dispute over salary scales and has become a matter of national aviation security.

The KAWU strike ended on February 18, after forty-eight hours of disruption had already inflicted its economic toll, when the union agreed to return to work following emergency negotiations involving the Ministry of Roads and Transport, the Ministry of Labour, the Kenya Airports Authority and KAWU itself. Transport Cabinet Secretary Davies Chirchir declared that aviation contributes immensely to Kenya’s economy and committed to sector stability. Operations at JKIA and other Kenyan airports resumed immediately under a return-to-work formula that committed to reviewing KCAA staff grades previously proposed and agreed upon but never implemented. Kenya Airways announced it expected to normalise its schedules within twenty-four hours, though aviation analysts noted that aircraft out of position, crews in violation of rest requirements, and backlogged baggage operations would continue to create ripple effects for days.

What Turkish Airlines Must Decide Before March 6

The twenty-one-day clock on the TAWU notice to Turkish Airlines now ticks toward early March 2026 with a backdrop that could not be more charged. TAWU has made its position unambiguous: unless the airline concludes the CBA within the notice period, it will proceed with a “lawful and protected strike” without further warning. The union says it remains ready to conclude the agreement within the notice window if Turkish Airlines engages meaningfully, a formulation that implies the carrier needs only to demonstrate the kind of serious negotiating intent the court has already explicitly required of it.

For Turkish Airlines, the calculation is straightforward to state and apparently difficult to act upon. The carrier has expanded aggressively across Africa and positioned Nairobi as a jewel in that continental strategy, resuming Mombasa service as recently as 2025 after a five-year absence. A strike by its Kenyan workers, even a numerically small contingent of thirteen unionised staff, would land at a moment of maximum reputational vulnerability for Kenyan aviation as a whole, threatening to crystallise in the minds of international passengers a perception that the country’s airports cannot be relied upon for operational consistency.

The deeper question, however, is not what Turkish Airlines decides to do about two unconcluded CBA clauses in the next three weeks. It is whether Kenya’s aviation sector, its regulators, its airport authorities, its flag carrier, and the foreign airlines that have made JKIA their East African gateway, have absorbed the lesson that the KAWU strike so violently drove home: that labour agreements deferred are not labour agreements avoided, and that the cost of a strike that paralyses Sh410 million of daily fresh produce exports, delays six-hour queues of international passengers, generates safety advisories from pilots’ associations, and forces Cabinet Secretaries into emergency press conferences, will always be immeasurably greater than the cost of honouring the agreements that workers were promised in the first place.

February 19, 2026
Paul Ndung’u Claims SportPesa Has Wedged Out A Media War Against Him As He Files Appeal In UK Court To Recover His Shares

Paul Wanderi Ndung’u, the Kenyan entrepreneur at the centre of one of Africa’s most explosive corporate battles, has accused SportPesa-linked interests of orchestrating a coordinated media campaign designed to sabotage his ongoing appeal at the UK Court of Appeal, where he is fighting to recover shares he claims were fraudulently stripped from him through an elaborate dilution scheme engineered by Bulgarian directors with alleged ties to international organised crime.

In a scathing 17-page complaint addressed to the Managing Editor of Nation Media Group and dated January 31, 2026, Ndung’u names Business Daily columnist Jaindi Kisero as the latest weapon in what he describes as a calculated, sponsor-driven assault on his reputation timed to coincide with the most critical stage of his legal battle abroad.

The complaint, seen by Kenya Insights, is surgical in its counterattacks. Ndung’u does not merely dispute Kisero’s January 30 column. He dismantles it, paragraph by paragraph, producing court orders, affidavits, and documentary evidence to challenge virtually every major assertion the veteran columnist made.

At stake are shares in SportPesa Global Holdings Limited, a UK-registered company, where Ndung’u was a founding director and 17 percent shareholder before a rights issue in 2019 reduced his stake to a near-invisible 0.85 percent.

A UK High Court judge, Justice Edward Johnson, found in a November 2025 judgment that the company had breached sections 561 and 562 of the UK Companies Act 2006, laws specifically designed to protect shareholders from predatory dilution.

Offer letters had been sent to a non-existent address and to an email domain the Communications Authority of Kenya had already suspended for fraud. Ndung’u’s phone never rang while other shareholders were personally called.

Yet despite these damning findings, Justice Johnson ruled against Ndung’u, concluding he lacked the financial capacity to have subscribed the £170,000 required to take up the shares. It is this baffling conclusion that Ndung’u is now appealing, and it is this appeal, he says, that his enemies are desperate to derail through the press.

“This and other sponsored pieces, including those by bloggers, are calculated attempts to destabilise me during the pendency of my appeal before the UK Court of Appeal,” Ndung’u writes in the complaint.

He alleges the Kisero article mirrors content published on the X account of a blogger just four days earlier, suggesting both originate from the same sponsored source.

The bank evidence that Justice Johnson apparently set aside is staggering.

Court records show Ndung’u maintained a standing overdraft equivalent to approximately £416,000. His personal account held the equivalent of £500,000. His business account contained over £833,000. He had by early 2023 spent more than £300,000 pursuing the case alone and had committed in writing to invest up to £500,000.

His legal team has notified the Court of Appeal that Ndung’u is separately owed £2.4 million in cash he invested in SportPesa Holdings Limited in the Isle of Man between 2016 and 2017.

How a judge can find fraud, document it meticulously, then deny remedy because the victim supposedly lacked funds, funds the victim demonstrably possessed, is a question that now travels to the Court of Appeal.

Ndung’u is equally brutal about the Kisero article’s characterisation of events in Kenya.

Kisero wrote that Justice A.K. Ndungu of the Nairobi High Court had “affirmed Milestone Games’ lawful right to use the SportPesa trademark and dismissed claims of fraud and forgery,” declaring the story of the stolen brand legally settled.

Ndung’u calls this a fabrication.

He attaches the actual court orders from Justice Ndungu, which show the judge did the precise opposite.

In September 2022, Justice Ndungu suspended the SportPesa trademark licence issued to Milestone Games Limited and refused to adopt a consent the company had drafted without full board approval.

Five out of seven BCLB board members had sworn affidavits confirming the board never met to approve Milestone’s licence in the first place.

This is not a disputed interpretation of a grey ruling. These are court orders with specific operative clauses. If Kisero’s sources fed him the opposite narrative, either they lied to him or he did not ask for the paperwork.

The broader corporate landscape Ndung’u describes is grotesque in its detail. He alleges that in October 2020, Pevans East Africa Limited directors transferred assets including M-Pesa paybills, shortcodes and funds totalling KES 2.3 billion to Milestone Games Limited in direct violation of subsisting High Court money preservation orders. Safaricom PLC, he claims, facilitated the transfer of paybills and funds despite being formally served with those court orders.

He filed suit against Safaricom in July 2022. Safaricom, he says, failed to file a defence on more than six separate court occasions, resulting in an interlocutory judgment being entered against it in November 2022.

The criminal dimension of the saga extends far beyond share certificates and paybills. Guerassim Nikolov, the Bulgarian director who controlled SportPesa and who was deported from Kenya in 2019 alongside fellow director Gene Grand, has been linked by Bulgarian investigative journalists to gangland figures, credit card skimming operations and a 1994 armed kidnapping of Serbian truck drivers.

Bulgaria’s National Security Agency has described him as one of the main organisers of credit card draining operations worldwide.

His former lottery business partner in Kenya, Krasen Tenev, was later found guilty of five counts of forgery in Bulgaria and sentenced in absentia to 11 years in prison. Tenev remains on Interpol’s Red Notice watchlist.

These are the men who sponsored Arsenal and Everton, who plastered their brand across Kenyan stadiums, who presented themselves as legitimate businessmen while, according to financial analysis of Pevans’ 2018 accounts, channelling one-third of operating reserves totalling KES 5.3 billion to related parties offshore.

In that year alone, KES 1.4 billion flowed to companies wholly owned by Nikolov’s sister. Tech Pitch Limited paid Nikolov personal director’s remuneration of KES 196 million in 2018 while the company’s entire declared wage bill was KES 19.4 million, an accounting impossibility that speaks plainly to what was happening inside SportPesa’s books.

Despite their deportation, Nikolov and his associates continue to control the SportPesa brand through an ownership structure involving Milestone Games Limited, 72 percent ultimately owned by TPLC Holdings Limited, a UAE Free Zone Establishment controlled by the Bulgarians.

The deportation was theatrical. The control never ended.

In Kenya, the fraud has gone beyond corporate documents. The Court of Appeal in April 2025 overturned its own February 2023 ruling after discovering it had been misled by a forged court order.

The appellate bench, composed of Court of Appeal President Justice Daniel Musinga, Justice Mumbi Ngugi and Justice George Odunga, cited the intricacies of fraud and forgery in its reversal.

The court found there was no injunction against Ndung’u, that he retained full rights to participate in derivative actions on behalf of Pevans, and that his exclusion from proceedings had violated his constitutional rights under Article 50.

Following those findings, the Kenyan Judiciary issued a public notice through the Law Society of Kenya warning about criminal activity involving forged court documents, decrees and orders. The notice described a budding criminal activity involving generating and presenting forged court documents with intent to defraud. That notice came after a SportPesa-related case. The Business Daily itself ran an editorial on October 9, 2025 calling on the DCI to probe the fake court orders scandal.

Ndung’u also lays out a comprehensive trademark fraud case currently before the Constitutional Court.

He alleges the SportPesa and Spesa trademarks owned by Pevans were transferred to SportPesa Global Holdings Limited, a UK company not registered in Kenya, in violation of multiple statutes including the Companies Act, the Stamp Duty Act and the Tax Procedures Act. No stamp duty was paid. No shareholder approval was obtained. The assignment certificates were backdated. No application fees were paid.

The goodwill purportedly worth £200,000 was never actually paid. KIPI board chairman Allan Kosgey wrote to Ndung’u’s lawyer Dr Ekuru Aukot in September 2025 acknowledging the complaint and promising compliance with applicable law and regulations.

Against this backdrop, the Kisero article’s declaration that the litigation is “effectively settled” and that SportPesa can now enjoy an “industry reset” is not merely premature. It is, in Ndung’u’s characterisation, part of the campaign itself.

Ndung’u demands a full-page paid apology from Kisero and threatens legal proceedings if Nation Media Group does not provide him equal space to rebut the column.

He has directed his lawyers at Ekuru Aukot and Co to take necessary steps if the matter is not resolved to his satisfaction.

What remains unresolved is the larger question the UK Court of Appeal must now answer.

If a court documents that company law was broken, that offer letters were sent to phantom addresses and shut-down email accounts, that directors lied under oath about auditing obligations, that a shareholder with nearly £900,000 in accessible funds was systematically excluded from a rights issue, but still denies remedy, what exactly does corporate law protect?

For Ndung’u, the answer may come from London. For Kenya, the answer is already written in court files that detail billions transferred in defiance of court orders, trademarks donated without payment, licences issued without board approval, and forged documents filed to manipulate judicial outcomes.

SportPesa did not merely build a betting empire.

According to the evidence documented in courts on two continents, it built a machine for stripping shareholders of their stakes, extracting cash through offshore entities, corrupting institutions and then using media, litigation and criminal forgery to bury the evidence.

The machine is still running. Ndung’u intends to stop it.

February 18, 2026
Kenya Now Demands ID Cards, Phone Numbers and Postal Addresses From Starlink Users

Kenyan authorities have moved to bring satellite internet users under the same stringent identification framework that governs mobile phone subscribers, ordering Elon Musk’s Starlink to collect and submit national identity cards, postal addresses and phone numbers of all its customers in the country or risk having their services cut off.

The Communications Authority of Kenya (CA) says the requirement stems from revised regulations introduced by ICT Cabinet Secretary William Kabogo, which expand subscriber registration rules beyond SIM cards to cover all internet communication services, including satellite-based connectivity.

Starlink has since written to its Kenyan customers informing them that they must submit their name, date of birth, gender, a government-issued identification document and a passport-sized photograph through their online accounts.

They must then visit an authorised Starlink retailer in person to complete identity verification. Customers who fail to comply by April 30, 2026, will have their service suspended.

“As required by local authorities in Kenya, all Starlink customers must complete identity verification in person at an authorised retailer,” the company told subscribers in an email. “If verification is not completed by this date, your service may be interrupted.”

The CA confirmed to reporters that the new framework repeals the Kenya Information and Communications (Registration of SIM Cards) Regulations 2015, which had been narrowly focused on mobile phone lines. “The new regulations require all subscribers to ICT services to be registered, and their details authenticated in the National Integrated Population Registration System,” the regulator said.

Telecoms companies are additionally required to capture biometric data and ensure that subscribers complete a Form 1 that records multiple personal details.

The CA has, however, sought to calm concerns by clarifying that referencing biometric data in the regulations does not amount to an instruction to collect such data from subscribers.

Digital rights advocates have pushed back against the registration drive, arguing it serves as a tool for state surveillance rather than purely a cybersecurity measure.

Their concerns carry weight in a country where internet access has become central to commerce, employment and civic participation.

Joseph Khago, a Nairobi-based IT specialist, explained the practical implications for state oversight. “Without this information, it would be harder for authorities to identify the person behind the online activity of an IP address. The regulators would have to go through Starlink to request that data. The new push essentially gives the government more control,” he told the Business Daily.

Tying subscriber accounts to verified physical identities gives authorities direct visibility into who is online and from where, removing a layer of procedural distance that previously existed with satellite internet providers.

Starlink entered the Kenyan market in July 2024 and has grown rapidly, particularly in rural and underserved areas where traditional terrestrial internet infrastructure remains thin.

Data from the CA shows subscriptions reached 19,470 by September 2025, more than double the 8,063 recorded in December 2024.

Despite this growth, Starlink holds just 0.8 percent of Kenya’s fixed data market, a segment dominated by Safaricom at 35.6 percent, followed by Jamii Telecommunications at 20.4 percent and Wananchi Group at 11.8 percent.

Safaricom had earlier lobbied against Starlink’s direct market entry, arguing that satellite operators should be required to partner with existing providers rather than operate independently. The giant telco contended that standalone satellite operations posed a risk to the quality of mobile telephony networks.

The registration push arrives as the Kenyan government simultaneously considers more expansive biometric collection for new SIM card subscribers, including fingerprinting, blood typing and DNA samples, proposals that drew widespread public opposition.

The CA has maintained that the inclusion of biometric language in the regulations does not signal imminent collection of such data.

Under the revised rules, operators are empowered to suspend services where subscribers submit false information or repeatedly ignore registration requirements, including cases where a person who turns 18 fails to update their registration details within 90 days.

Before any disconnection, operators are required to issue prior notice through print and broadcast media.

The deadline facing Starlink users underscores how Kenya is steadily extending its regulatory reach into newer forms of internet delivery as the country’s online economy deepens and the government seeks tighter accountability over who is accessing the internet and how.

February 18, 2026
‪Nairobi Businesswoman Sues Safaricom After Cash She Mistakenly Sent To Wrong Number Was Used To Offset Recipient’s Fuliza Debt‬

A businesswoman has moved to the High Court seeking to overturn what she terms an unconstitutional policy by Safaricom PLC that allows money sent in error to be used to settle Fuliza overdraft loans, even where a sender promptly seeks a reversal.

In a constitutional petition filed at the High Court in Nairobi, Eunice Nganga argues that the telecommunications giant’s handling of erroneous M-Pesa transfers violates multiple constitutional rights and consumer protection laws.

The petition was placed before Justice Lawrence Mugambi, who has issued directions on service and timelines for responses.

According to court papers, the dispute stems from a transaction on September 4, 2024, when Nganga mistakenly sent Sh2,700 to the wrong mobile number.

She says she realised the error almost immediately and initiated a reversal within minutes, in line with Safaricom’s M-Pesa reversal procedure. She also promptly sent the same amount to the intended recipient.

However, the reversal request was declined on the basis that the unintended recipient’s line had an outstanding Fuliza overdraft.

Nganga contends that the funds were “automatically deducted by Safaricom to offset the recipient’s Fuliza loan and were never accessed or withdrawn by the recipient”.

The petitioner further states that when she followed up at a Safaricom retail outlet and later through a formal demand, she was informed that the money could not be refunded and was advised to report the matter to the police.

She argues that the issue is not criminal in nature, as the recipient did not benefit from the funds, and that the money was instead retained by the service provider.

In her petition, Nganga claims the policy breaches the right to property, fair administrative action, consumer rights, dignity, freedom of conscience and freedom of association.

She argues that her “contract with Safaricom does not extend to the recovery of another customer’s debt using her funds, particularly where there was no valid transaction between her and the Fuliza debtor”.

She has framed the case as one of public interest, asserting that many Kenyans have lost money in similar circumstances when erroneous transfers are used to settle Fuliza debts.

Nganga is seeking declarations that the policy is unconstitutional and unlawful, orders quashing and prohibiting its implementation, restitution of the Sh2,700, and far-reaching refund orders for other affected customers.

She has also asked the court to award Sh50 million in general and punitive damages.

Justice Mugambi directed that the petition be served within seven days, with responses filed within 14 days of service.

The matter is scheduled for mention on March 25, 2026.

February 18, 2026

KPC IPO Set To Flop Ahead Of Deadline, Here’s The Experts’ Take

NAIROBI. The Kenya Pipeline Company initial public offering was meant to be a triumph: a flagship privatisation that would flood Treasury coffers with Ksh106.3 billion, mint up to two million new shareholders, and announce to the world that the Nairobi Securities Exchange had come of age.

With barely 48 hours left before the subscription window closes on the evening of February 19, 2026, none of that appears likely to materialise without an extraordinary and largely unprecedented surge of last-minute demand.

As of close of business last Thursday, four independent brokers, all speaking on condition of anonymity citing fear of State reprisals, placed total subscriptions at approximately 10 per cent of the offer, equivalent to roughly Ksh11 billion of the Ksh106.3 billion target.

For the transaction to proceed at all, regulations require valid applications representing at least 50 per cent of the shares on offer, or Ksh53.1 billion. That means the government must attract nearly five times the volume of orders it has collected across four weeks, within the span of two days. The arithmetic alone makes the case.

“You know how Kenyans behave, even when the IEBC is registering voters, they all come at the last minute. Let us wait for the final week, I am sure we will have enough investors.” Treasury Cabinet Secretary John Mbadi

Treasury Cabinet Secretary John Mbadi has offered what is fast becoming the official line of comfort: Kenyans, he says, behave like procrastinating voters, and the last-minute rush will save the day. It is a colourful analogy.

It is also, on the available evidence, the fiscal equivalent of wishful thinking.

Kenya’s most comparable precedent, the Safaricom IPO of March 2008, generated enormous popular enthusiasm from its very opening day, driven by brand recognition, accessible pricing, and a company whose services millions used daily.

KPC has none of those tailwinds, and its pricing structure has generated precisely the opposite of enthusiasm among professional investors.

The Valuation Chasm That Doomed Retail Confidence

The central wound in this offering is not demand, it is price. The government, advised by Faida Investment Bank and Dyer and Blair, set the offer at Ksh9 per share, implying a total company valuation of Ksh163.56 billion. Independent analysts, almost without exception, have arrived at a figure considerably lower. The divergence is not marginal. It is a chasm.

Old Mutual Investment Group Uganda, in a January 2026 initiation note, values KPC at Ksh4.61 per share, implying a discount of 49 per cent to the offer price and an equity value of Ksh77.4 billion.

Its methodology is rigorous: a discounted cash flow model using a 16.04 per cent weighted average cost of capital and a 3.0 per cent terminal growth rate produces Ksh4.26 per share; a relative valuation exercise benchmarking KPC against regional utilities including KenGen and Kenya Power, alongside midstream oil operators such as Seplat and Aradel, yields Ksh5.27.

The blended result is Ksh4.61, with an accumulation band of roughly one shilling either side. The fund manager recommends waiting for a post-listing price correction before entering.

NCBA Investment Bank has placed fair value at approximately Ksh6.35, arguing the IPO implies a premium earnings multiple for what is, structurally, a mature, regulated utility. Standard Investment Bank valued KPC’s equity at around Ksh102 billion on the post-IPO share base, implying roughly Ksh5.61 per share.

Its senior research associate Wesley Manambo has offered a buy recommendation, but only for investors with a time horizon of at least seven years.

For anyone seeking short-term capital appreciation, or even a competitive dividend yield, his language is striking in its candour: the opportunity cost is higher relative to other propositions in the market.

Wider independent market analysis has produced fair-value ranges as low as Ksh3.28, citing stretched valuation multiples and a dividend yield that cannot compete with double-digit, tax-free government infrastructure bonds currently on offer in the Kenyan fixed-income market. That last point deserves emphasis.

An investor who allocates capital to KPC at Ksh9 and receives a 50 per cent dividend payout on projected earnings must calculate their yield against instruments that currently offer 14 to 16 per cent, risk-free and tax-exempt. The comparison is brutal.

Source	Valuation (KSh/share)	Stance
Faida Investment Bank (Lead Advisor)	9.00	Buy / Offer price
Dyer & Blair (Sponsoring Broker)	9.00	Buy / Offer price
NCBA Investment Bank	6.35	Below offer / Cautious
Standard Investment Bank (SIB)	~5.61	Strategic long-term buy
Old Mutual Investment Group Uganda	4.61	Avoid / Post-listing entry
Independent range (multiple analysts)	3.28 to 5.41	Overvalued at offer price

Table: Independent valuations of KPC versus the government’s offer price of Ksh9.00 per share. Sources: Faida Investment Bank, NCBA Investment Bank, Standard Investment Bank, Old Mutual Investment Group Uganda, independent market analyses.

The Dividend Cut That No One Is Pretending Is Irrelevant

KPC is, on its balance sheet, a genuinely impressive asset. The company holds infrastructure worth Ksh163 billion across Kenya’s fuel supply network. It operates 1,342 kilometres of pipeline connecting the Port of Mombasa to Nairobi and landlocked markets including Uganda, Rwanda, South Sudan and northern Tanzania, where it commands a 91 per cent market share.

Its EBITDA margins average roughly 45 per cent. It carries zero debt. It posted a profit of Ksh7.49 billion in its most recent financial year and paid Ksh10.5 billion in dividends to the Treasury.

That last figure contains its own problem. KPC has historically paid out 94.5 per cent of profits as dividends, a ratio that makes it unusual even by the standards of regulated infrastructure companies globally.

The offer memorandum proposes reducing that payout ratio to 50 per cent, which would fund a major capital expenditure programme including laying a new pipeline between Mombasa and Nairobi. For income-oriented investors, who represent the natural constituency of a utility IPO, this is not a footnote. It is the entire investment case, and it points in the wrong direction.

The company is transitioning from a mature cash distributor to an infrastructure builder, right as it is asking the public to value it at a peak multiple.

At the offer price, an investor is buying a toll road that has just announced it will reinvest most of the tolls, at a valuation that assumes those tolls will grow at rates the market has not corroborated.

The government will retain a 35 per cent stake. Of the 65 per cent on offer, 20 per cent is reserved for individual Kenyans, 20 per cent for Kenyan institutional investors, five per cent for KPC employees, 15 per cent for oil marketing companies, 20 per cent for East African Community investors, and 20 per cent for foreign and international investors.

Institutional and international tranches have moved faster than retail, according to multiple brokers, with some segments having oversubscribed early. But the retail portion, which the government had hoped would attract two million first-time equity investors, has been the most conspicuously sluggish.

The Policy Context: Privatisation as Fiscal Necessity

The KPC IPO does not exist in isolation. Kenya’s fiscal position is among the most constrained in its history. Annual debt repayments now consume 40 per cent of government revenues.

The State has simultaneously announced the sale of a 15 per cent stake in Safaricom to South Africa’s Vodacom for Ksh204 billion. Both transactions are part of a broader Treasury strategy to mobilise capital through divestiture, in lieu of tax increases that have already triggered popular protests and a borrowing ceiling that international creditors are watching with diminishing patience.

The government has also indicated that proceeds from the KPC sale will be channelled through a new National Infrastructure Fund intended to attract further private capital, and that Kenya aims to expand power generation from three million to ten million megawatts. These are ambitious targets. Their credibility depends, at least in part, on whether the KPC IPO is seen by markets as a success or a warning.

Former Chief Justice David Maraga, among others, has publicly questioned the wisdom of privatising strategic national assets, warning of rising inequality and the risk that productive state enterprises are sold below fair value to benefit narrow interests.

His concerns are not universally shared, but they reflect a real tension in Kenyan public life between developmental statism and the fiscal pragmatism that constrained governments must practise.

The Regional Dimension: Uganda’s Stake in the Outcome

Uganda’s relationship with the KPC offer is more than financial. The country accounts for over 30 per cent of KPC’s throughput and revenue, with more than 90 per cent of Uganda’s fuel imports transiting through Kenya’s pipeline infrastructure.

President Ruto, at a regional event in late 2025, stated that Uganda would be invited to acquire a stake in KPC as part of a deeper East African integration agenda. The offer memorandum reserves up to 20 per cent of the divested stake for EAC governments.

Cabinet Secretary Mbadi has noted that Ugandan investors are, by his account, clamouring for more shares and irritated that only 20 per cent of the offer falls within the East African pool.

It is a notable data point, though it raises an obvious question: if regional institutional demand is as strong as officials suggest, why is the aggregate subscription figure sitting at 10 per cent with 48 hours to go? Either the institutional commitments remain verbal rather than converted into paid applications, or the total picture is considerably more complicated than official statements imply.

Technology Access: The M-Pesa Bet

One genuine innovation in this offering is distribution. The government launched Ziidi Trader on February 10, a Safaricom-backed platform allowing M-Pesa users to purchase KPC shares directly from their mobile phones without engaging a broker.

The offer has also been open for a full month, longer than most Kenyan IPOs, reflecting deliberate efforts to widen access. President Ruto personally promoted mobile participation. The NSE has been on a sharp upward trajectory, posting its largest single-week gain on record in the weeks preceding the offer’s close.

None of it has been enough to drive meaningful retail volume. Heavy marketing through roadshows, advertising campaigns, and influencer-driven social media activity preceded the launch. Yet the mass-market participation the government was banking on has not materialised at the scale required.

This is not simply a story about access or awareness. It is a story about price. Kenyans, particularly those with limited disposable income, are unlikely to buy a financial instrument that sophisticated professional analysts value at roughly half its asking price, regardless of how conveniently it is packaged.

What Happens If The Numbers Do Not Come In

Under the terms of the offer, the IPO must receive valid applications from no fewer than 250 applicants representing at least 50 per cent of the shares on offer. If that threshold is not met, the transaction cannot proceed on its current terms.

Regulations permit share reallocation across categories in cases of undersubscription, beginning with local retail investors.

But reallocation addresses imbalances between categories, not a wholesale shortfall in aggregate demand. If total subscriptions remain near Ksh11 billion by Thursday evening, reallocation provisions offer no remedy.

The most likely outcomes in a failure scenario are extension of the subscription period, renegotiation of terms, or withdrawal of the offer pending restructuring. Each carries reputational costs. An extension would signal to regional and international capital markets that Kenya’s privatisation programme is in difficulty. A price reduction would be damaging for a government that has staked political capital on the Ksh9 valuation. Withdrawal would be the worst outcome of all: a direct blow to the credibility of the NSE as a venue for major primary issuances, and an implicit validation of every sceptical analyst report that has circulated since the offer opened.

If subscriptions do not surge in the next 48 hours, the government faces a choice between three bad options. There is no fourth door.

Faida Investment Bank, the lead transaction advisor, has expressed continued optimism, citing momentum in e-IPO platform enhancements and describing institutional interest as strong.

Francis Drummond, co-sponsoring broker, said it expected institutions to act on their decisions within the closing days.

These are not implausible scenarios. Institutional investors do routinely wait until the final hours of a book-build before converting expressions of interest into hard orders. The question is whether the institutions’ eventual commitments will be sufficient to bridge a gap that, as of last week, represented 90 per cent of the total offer.

Verdict: Structurally Sound Company, Structurally Flawed Offer

The tragedy of this IPO, if it fails, will not be that KPC is a bad company. It is not. It is a regulated national infrastructure monopoly with dominant market share, healthy margins, a debt-free balance sheet, and strategic importance to an entire region’s energy supply. In different circumstances, it would be an unambiguously attractive listing.

The problem is price, and more precisely, the gap between what the government believes the company is worth and what the market is prepared to pay. That gap did not emerge after launch. It was visible from the moment independent analysts began publishing their valuations.

When four distinct research houses, applying different methodologies, converge on a range of Ksh3.28 to Ksh6.35 against an offer price of Ksh9, the message is not ambiguous. Markets work by aggregating information. The information available on KPC says the offer is expensive.

Treasury CS Mbadi’s voter-registration analogy may yet prove prescient. Stranger things have happened in capital markets. But a miracle requires both faith and mechanics, and right now the mechanics are worrying.

The government needs applications representing five times current volume in less than two business days. The brokers need their institutional clients to convert intent into cash. The retail investors need a reason to believe they are not paying a 50 to 95 per cent premium above fair value on day one.

None of those conditions are comfortably in place. What is in place is a deadline, a shortfall, and a government that has tied its fiscal credibility to an outcome the market has been reluctant to underwrite. By Friday morning, Kenya will know which side was rightEast Africa’s largest-ever local-currency equity offering closes Thursday at 5pm. With subscriptions marooned at roughly 10 per cent of the target after four weeks of marketing, the numbers demand an honest reckoning. The government is betting on a last-minute miracle. The market is not convinced..

Key Facts: KPC IPO closes February 19, 2026 at 5pm. 11.81 billion shares at Ksh9 each. 65% stake sale. Target: Ksh106.3 billion. Minimum threshold: Ksh53.1 billion (50% subscription). Trading start (if successful): March 9, 2026, Nairobi Securities Exchange. Allocation results: March 4, 2026.

February 18, 2026

A Farm in Kenya’s Rift Valley Ignites a National Reckoning With Israeli Investment

SOLAI, Kenya — On a clifftop above the sunken floor of the Great Rift Valley, where rosemary grows in military rows across 520 acres of irrigated earth, Erez Rivkin stands at the center of Kenya’s most combustible land controversy in years.

The Israeli investor has spent 15 years building what he calls a dream: export greenhouses, packhouses, a quarry, and now a master-planned residential retreat where buyers can purchase a “freehold” cliffside plot, holiday in the valley, and plug into his farming value chain for income.

Rivkin grows more than 22 crops — rosemary bound for Germany, Poland, the Netherlands, and Dubai among them. “Everything is already done, export is handled, and water is here,” he said of the farm where he has worked for 15 years.

Within days of journalist Alex Chamwada’s promotional documentary tour going viral, hundreds of thousands of Kenyans were not admiring the drip irrigation. They were asking whether they were watching the beginning of a settlement.

The Spark

Chamwada — a decorated journalist and CEO of Chams Media whose Daring Abroad program on Citizen TV spotlights bold investment stories — posted videos and photos from the site in mid-February 2026, framing Rivkin as an exemplary foreign entrepreneur. The teaser for a full documentary drew enormous traffic. Then it drew fury.

Online critics described the project as a kibbutz-style settlement, invoking memories of communal farms in Israel.
Others invoked the 1903 “Uganda Scheme” — in fact proposed for what is now Kenya’s Uasin Gishu plateau — in which British Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain offered land to Zionist leader Theodor Herzl as a Jewish refuge from European pogroms.

The Zionist Congress debated and ultimately rejected the offer in 1905, choosing Palestine instead. For many Kenyans online, the century-old episode wasn’t ancient history. It was a warning.

PHOTO | COURTESY Israeli investor Erez Rivkin, with media personality Alex Chamwada, at his real estate firm in Solai, Nakuru County.

“Is a Zionist settlement in East Africa back on the table?” asked one widely shared Instagram reel. Influencer Mumbi Seraki posted: “A new State of Israel in Kenya? Why are guys shocked? Don’t you remember Netanyahu is the one who showed up and saved Uhuru Kenyatta after a clear Raila win?”

No credible evidence has emerged to support claims of any government conspiracy, and Rivkin’s project appears to be private in nature. But the speed and intensity of the backlash revealed something more durable: the accumulated weight of Kenya’s unresolved land politics, its deepening entanglement with Israeli geopolitical ambition, and a global reckoning with Israeli expansion that the war in Gaza has made impossible to ignore.

The Shadow of Solai

The land sits in a region still haunted by disaster. On May 9, 2018, the Patel Milmet Dam burst amid heavy rains, killing at least 48 people.

It was one of five earthen embankment dams belonging to Mansukul Patel on the private property of his 1,400-hectare commercial rose farm and business, Solai Roses.

Kenya’s Water Resources Management Authority concluded that none of the dams on the property were properly licensed and were therefore illegal.

Families of the 48 people who perished finally received compensation only after agreeing to an out-of-court deal — five years later, in 2023 — with payments of KSh 1.2 million per adult life and KSh 800,000 per child.

For a community that watched its villages swept away and then waited half a decade for accountability from a corporate farm, the arrival of another large foreign-owned agricultural operation a short distance from the same flood plain was never going to be received quietly.

Social media posts, unverified but widely shared, alleged that Rivkin’s land acquisition was connected to the tragedy and to undisclosed dealings with senior Kenyan politicians.

No evidence has been produced to substantiate these specific claims. What they reflect is something harder to dismiss: a community’s earned distrust of powerful investors operating on land where accountability has historically been absent.

The Legal Tangle

Kenya’s 2010 Constitution, under Article 65, explicitly prohibits non-citizens from owning freehold land. Foreign nationals are limited to leasehold tenure of up to 99 years, and any purported freehold interest held by a foreigner is automatically converted to such a lease. Companies with foreign shareholders are treated similarly.

The Great Rift Valley Retreat’s marketing materials — promoting “freehold master-planned” cliffside plots beginning at roughly KSh 1.9 million — have not publicly disclosed the corporate structure or title arrangements behind the development.

That silence has fed speculation.

Defenders of the project insist it complies with Kenyan law and creates local employment; the project’s official website, operating under the entity “New Agrodeal Farm,” continues to promote investment openly. As of February 17, 2026, neither the National Land Commission, Nakuru County, nor the national government had issued any statement addressing the project’s land titles or the public uproar.

Israel’s African Footprint — and Its Failures

The Solai controversy did not emerge in a vacuum. It landed in a Kenya whose relationship with Israeli investment is, to put it generously, complicated.

On July 5, 2016, Benjamin Netanyahu kick-started Israel’s scramble for Africa with a historic visit to Kenya, making him the first Israeli prime minister to visit Africa in 50 years.

The trip was laden with strategic candor. Netanyahu was explicit with Israeli ambassadors stationed across the continent: “The first interest is to dramatically change the situation regarding African votes at the UN and other international bodies from opposition to support. There are 54 countries in Africa; we want to erode the opposition and change it to support.” Netanyahu stated that Israel’s goal was to use “trade, technology and investments” to entice African states to vote in favor of Israel at the United Nations and other international organizations.

Between 2015 and 2023, the UNGA passed 154 resolutions against Israel, compared with 71 against all other countries combined. The diplomatic stakes could not have been higher.

Kenya became the continent’s most important pivot point.

The flagship expression of that strategy was the Galana-Kulalu Food Security Project — an Israeli firm, Green Arava, contracted to develop a model farm on 10,000 acres at the Galana-Kulalu irrigation scheme, meant to be a precursor to expanding production on one million acres.

The contract was single-sourced, meaning that Kenyans did not carry out competitive bidding.

By the time Arava threw in the towel, the State had already paid the contractor Sh5.9 billion out of the Sh6.35 billion loan from Israel’s Bank Leumi.

Green Arava managed to cultivate only 500 acres before the National Irrigation Authority terminated the contract, citing slow implementation and inflated costs. President Ruto later admitted the project was “a scam.”

Undeterred, Kenya’s Foreign Affairs Minister Musalia Mudavadi was by August 2024 announcing a new 25-year land lease arrangement with Israeli agricultural investors for wheat production, described as “a private-private arrangement which will only be guaranteed by the two governments through giving necessary logistics and a conducive environment.” The same logic, the same sector, the same country.

A Geopolitics of Soil

Israel’s ambitions in East Africa have expanded even as its global image has contracted since October 2023. After it began its war on Gaza, whatever fragile support Israel had on the continent largely collapsed. South Africa accused Israel of genocide at the International Court of Justice in December 2023. The African Union was unequivocal in its condemnation.

Yet Israel has pressed forward. In December 2025, Israel became the first country to recognize the Republic of Somaliland as an independent state, with Prime Minister Netanyahu and Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar signing the declaration.

Channel 12 in Israel reported that ties between the two governments emerged partly as Israel searched for countries willing to take in Gazans it was looking to move out of the Strip during the war.

The African Union Commission Chairperson warned that the recognition risks creating a “dangerous precedent with far-reaching implications for peace and stability across the continent.”

The aid-as-leverage dynamic has a documented precedent.

When Senegal co-sponsored a 2016 UN Security Council resolution condemning Israeli settlements in the West Bank, Netanyahu recalled Israel’s ambassador to Dakar and cancelled Mashav drip-irrigation projects in the country — projects that had been “widely promoted as a major part of Israel’s contribution to the ‘fight against poverty in Africa.’” Israel has particularly set eyes on East Africa, especially Ethiopia, home to 160,000 Ethiopian Jews.

The Israeli aid agency Mashav sent aid worth $45.5 million to Ethiopia, Uganda, Tanzania, South Sudan, and Kenya between 2009 and 2021, according to OECD data. Aid often went towards agriculture, water, and healthcare.

Kenyans who have watched this history unfold are not being paranoid in asking what is transactional and what is development.

Against this backdrop, Nakuru County’s simultaneous pursuit of Israeli partnerships in agri-tech, water management, and training — confirmed in county statements involving Israeli Ambassador Gideon Behar — reads differently than it might have five years ago.

For Kenyans watching a viral video of a thriving Israeli-owned farm on a valley clifftop, the context is not abstract. It is immediate.

The Divide

Kenya has worked with Israeli agricultural experts for decades, particularly in drip irrigation and greenhouse technology.

Supporters argue this is simply foreign investment meeting local opportunity, bringing jobs, skills, and higher yields. Both positions contain some truth. And that is precisely the problem.

Rivkin’s operation appears genuinely productive. His 15-year presence in Kenya suggests real commitment to the land, not extraction and exit. These are not nothing.

But Kenya’s land is never merely agronomic. It is biographical. Colonial dispossessions, post-independence resettlement conflicts, elite land captures, and post-election violence have made every large foreign-owned estate a political object, regardless of what grows on it.

The proposal to establish youth exchange programs between Kenyan and Israeli teenagers at the site — and Rivkin’s mention of possibly relocating an Israeli school to Solai — amplified rather than allayed the concerns of critics who see the project’s horizon extending far beyond rosemary exports.

Neither Rivkin nor his representatives have publicly clarified these proposals in the context of the controversy.

Chamwada, whose journalism has long celebrated entrepreneurial ambition, has not publicly addressed the backlash. His framing of Rivkin’s venture as an inspiring investment story collided with a public not, right now, inclined to admire Israeli ambition on African soil without harder questions.

Whether the collision was foreseeable, and whose responsibility it was to anticipate it, is a question for Kenyan journalism to answer.

What Remains Unanswered

The Great Rift Valley Retreat’s corporate ownership structure and title arrangements have not been made public.

The National Land Commission has not addressed whether a non-citizen can legally be the ultimate beneficiary of a “freehold” residential development. Nakuru County has not explained what due diligence it conducted alongside its Israeli partnership engagements.

Rivkin has not answered the question his own marketing raised.

What Kenya has, as of this writing, is a 520-acre farm at the epicenter of two unresolved national conversations: who controls the land, and what obligations come with being allied to a country the world is watching with unprecedented scrutiny.

Those conversations will outlast this news cycle. The valley is patient. The questions are not.

February 17, 2026
MP Demands Vodacom Directors Answer Over Safaricom Share Rip-Off as Pressure Mounts To Sack CEO Peter Ndegwa

Nairobi — The political and corporate storm engulfing Safaricom PLC intensified on Tuesday after Kileleshwa MCA Robert Alai publicly called for the removal of chief executive Peter Ndegwa, declaring that “Ndegwa should be removed as Safaricom CEO. He is becoming rogue.”

Alai’s intervention adds combustible local politics to an already volatile debate over the government’s proposed sale of a 15 per cent stake in Safaricom to Vodacom Group at KSh34 per share — a price critics describe as a transfer of value away from Kenyan taxpayers.

The remarks came as Kiharu MP Ndindi Nyoro escalated his opposition to the transaction, demanding direct accountability from Vodacom’s board and warning that Kenyans would engage its leadership if the sale is not subjected to open competitive bidding.

Nyoro argues that the negotiated price embeds a control shift without adequately compensating the public for Safaricom’s strategic and earnings power.

Ndindi Nyoro.

The proposed transaction would increase Vodacom’s effective holding to roughly 55 per cent, reduce the government’s stake to about 20 per cent and leave 25 per cent in public hands.

Treasury has framed the deal as a necessary fiscal measure to unlock more than KSh200bn for infrastructure and debt management.

Yet the optics of disposing of additional equity at a price hovering around prevailing market levels have unsettled sections of Parliament and retail investors.

Safaricom’s share price has traded near the deal level in recent sessions, reflecting investor uncertainty.

While the KSh34 price was presented as a premium to the six-month weighted average at the time of announcement, critics note that the stock traded closer to KSh45 in 2021 before the capital-intensive Ethiopia expansion weighed on earnings and dividend growth.

Under Ndegwa, appointed in 2020 after the late Bob Collymore, Safaricom pivoted from a high-margin domestic cash generator into a regional growth platform anchored by its Ethiopia licence.

The move promised long-term scale in a market of more than 120 million people but has required heavy upfront capital expenditure, compressed margins and introduced currency and political risk into the balance sheet.

Supporters of the chief executive argue that the Ethiopia strategy remains a multi-year value proposition and that management cannot be held responsible for sovereign divestment decisions.

They point to continued resilience in the core Kenyan business, especially within M-Pesa, as evidence that the franchise remains intact.

However, detractors contend that the combination of earnings dilution, rising leverage and a contested stake sale has weakened Safaricom’s once unassailable premium status on the Nairobi Securities Exchange.

In that context, Alai’s “rogue” accusation, though politically charged, reflects a broader anxiety about governance, valuation discipline and executive accountability.

Nyoro has gone further, signalling he may push for direct engagement with Vodacom chairman Saki Macozoma and group chief executive Shameel Joosub over what he terms an undervaluation of a strategic asset.

He insists that an internationally marketed bidding process could yield significantly higher proceeds and restore confidence in the transaction.

The convergence of parliamentary resistance, county-level political agitation and investor unease places Safaricom at the centre of a rare public reckoning over how Kenya prices and manages its most valuable corporate assets.

What began as a fiscal manoeuvre has morphed into a referendum on executive leadership and control.

As approvals and potential legal challenges loom, the pressure on Ndegwa is no longer confined to share performance.

It now encompasses the political legitimacy of a transaction that could redefine Safaricom’s ownership structure for a generation.

February 17, 2026
Kenya Could Lose Sh1.7 Billion Yearly After Tanzanian Firm KEDA Ceramics Awarded Shady Glass Deal

NAIROBI, February 17, 2026

A Tanzanian-based Chinese ceramics conglomerate has been handed what rivals describe as an iron grip over Kenya’s glass supply chain, and the consequences are being felt in hardware shops, construction sites and government revenue accounts across the country.

Industry insiders and opposition politicians are now warning that Kenya is haemorrhaging an estimated Sh1.7 billion in taxes, port charges and logistics revenue every single year because of what they call a government-sanctioned monopoly that no one in authority wants to explain.

At the heart of the scandal sits KEDA Ceramics of Tanzania, a subsidiary of the Shanghai-listed KEDA Industrial Group, one of the biggest ceramic machinery and building materials conglomerates in the world.

Through its Kenyan arm, Twyford Ceramics Kenya, the company has cornered the supply of float glass into the Kenyan market, sources say, leaving local registered processors with no practical alternative but to buy from a single supplier at prices that industry documents show are more than double what the same product costs direct from China.

“This arrangement undermines fair competition, weakens local value addition and threatens Kenya’s industrial agenda”

The numbers are damning.

Kenyan processors are paying approximately USD 4.28 per square metre for float glass routed through Tanzania, according to figures cited by the Liberal Democratic Party.

The very same product, sourced directly from Chinese manufacturers, fetches around USD 2.00 per square metre, a price disparity of more than 114 per cent.

In a business where margins are tight and construction costs determine whether housing projects proceed or stall, that difference is the line between a viable industry and a gutted one.

“This price disparity has significantly increased production costs and eroded Kenya’s competitiveness,” LDP presidential aspirant Prof. Fred Ogola said outside Milimani Law Courts on February 10, where he issued a stinging press statement on the affair. “Instead of technocratic execution of policy, we are seeing the influence of vested commercial interests.”

The LDP leader estimates that Kenya is losing Sh1.7 billion annually, not in some abstract fiscal sense, but in concrete revenue that would otherwise flow through the Port of Mombasa, Nairobi’s warehousing sector, clearing and forwarding agents, and the Kenya Revenue Authority’s own tax collection machinery.

Because so much of the clearing and transport linked to the current arrangement is conducted outside Kenya, the country forfeits the economic multiplier effect of those transactions.

More than 24,000 jobs hang in the balance.

The glass processing sector directly employs 1,253 workers in Kenya, but the ripple effects extend to more than 23,000 people in construction, transport, hardware supply and related industries.

Every time a processor shuts a line or scales back because input costs make production unviable, a hardware retailer in Westlands or a glazier in Mombasa Road feels the pain first.

A PARLIAMENT-APPROVED EXEMPTION THAT NOBODY IMPLEMENTED

The deeper injustice, according to a petition now before the High Court, is that Parliament already acted to protect Kenyan processors.

Section 46 of the Finance Act 2025, which came into force on July 1, 2025, introduced a 35 per cent excise duty on imported float glass, while simultaneously providing that registered local processors would be exempted from the levy following verification by the Ministry of Investment, Trade and Industry.

The law was designed to tilt the playing field back in favour of Kenyan value-adders and reduce dependence on imported finished glass.

The Ministry of Industry duly conducted inspection visits in August 2025 and produced a verification report recommending approval of exemptions for ten registered processors.

That should have been the end of the story.

Instead, it was the beginning of a bureaucratic black hole. Four months after the verification report was completed, not a single one of the ten companies had received formal communication of their exemption.

Meanwhile, their consignments of float glass were being detained at the port, demurrage charges were mounting by the day, and businesses were teetering.

Peter Imbayi Indaso, a registered float glass processor trading as Glassmart Hardware and a member of the Kenya Association of Manufacturers, had had enough.

He filed a constitutional petition at the Milimani High Court, suing the Cabinet Secretary for Investment, Trade and Industry, the Kenya Revenue Authority and the Attorney General.

His case was straightforward: the government had conducted due diligence, confirmed the eligibility of processors, prepared a report and then done nothing with it.

The exemption Parliament had legislated was being strangled in the crib by administrative inaction that he argued violated Article 47 of the Constitution, the right to fair administrative action.

“For workers losing jobs today, economic pain is immediate, not a 2027 campaign issue” – Prof. Fred Ogola

The Kenya Association of Manufacturers joined the case as an interested party, confirming that it had written multiple letters to the Ministry and facilitated the very inspections that confirmed processor eligibility, only to be met with silence from officials.

COURT STEPS IN WHERE GOVERNMENT WOULD NOT

On December 22, 2025, Justice Bahati Mwamuye of the Milimani High Court intervened.

In interim orders, the judge directed the KRA to temporarily and conditionally release registered processors from the obligation to pay excise duty on their detained consignments, provided they secured the amounts through bank or insurance bond guarantees.

The court further ordered KRA to maintain meticulous records of all taxes and statutory charges foregone under the order, a requirement that signals the judiciary does not intend to let the government off lightly if the petition ultimately succeeds.

In a subsequent order that moved the legal needle even further, the High Court issued a writ of mandamus compelling KRA to communicate the necessary clearance to the Kenya Association of Manufacturers, enabling registered processors to clear their float glass imports without paying excise duty at all pending the full hearing of the petition.

The court declared that the statutory exemption under the Finance Act 2025 was self-executing once statutory conditions were met, and that it could not be frustrated by administrative inaction. In plain terms, the judge said the government had no legal cover for what it had been doing to the industry.

WHO IS KEDA, AND WHY DOES IT MATTER?

KEDA Industrial Group, listed on both the Shanghai Stock Exchange and the SIX Swiss Exchange, is not a small player.

Founded in 1992 and headquartered in Guangdong, China, the company operates more than 100 subsidiaries and 30 production bases worldwide, with products sold in over 100 countries. In Africa, it has established ceramic factories in Kenya, Tanzania, Ghana, Senegal and Zambia, positioning itself as the continent’s largest ceramic company.

Its Tanzanian subsidiary, KEDA (Tanzania) Ceramics Company Limited, began construction of a float glass plant in 2022, a development that attracted high-level attention from Tanzania’s government.

That plant now sits at the centre of Kenya’s glass supply crisis.

KEDA’s Kenya operation, Twyford Ceramics Kenya, located at Sameer Business Park in Nairobi and at a factory in Kajiado County, already controls around 60 per cent of Kenya’s ceramics tile market by some estimates, and critics allege the company is now attempting to extend that dominance into glass.

Trade data shows that KEDA (Tanzania) Ceramics’ primary export markets are Kenya, Uganda and Zambia, with Twyford Kenya being its biggest buyer.

The concern raised by the LDP and processors is not merely about price gouging.

It is about a deliberate structural arrangement, allegedly facilitated by government inaction, that locks competing glass suppliers out of the Kenyan market and hands a foreign-controlled entity a captive customer base of local manufacturers who have no other options.

“This is not just an industry dispute,” Prof. Ogola said. “It directly affects the cost of living and livelihoods of Kenyans.” He warned that inflated glass input costs cascade into higher housing and construction prices, making the government’s affordable housing agenda harder to achieve even as the President stakes political capital on it.

QUESTIONS THE GOVERNMENT MUST ANSWER

The LDP has demanded that the government publicly disclose the policy rationale behind the supply arrangement, name the individuals and entities who have benefited from the monopolistic structure, and outline concrete safeguards to protect local industry and public revenue.

These are not unreasonable demands given the stakes involved.

What is particularly striking about this case is the gap between stated policy and actual execution. The government has spoken loudly about industrialisation, local value addition and manufacturing competitiveness.

It passed a Finance Act with a specific provision to give local glass processors a fighting chance against cheaper imported products.

Then, for reasons that have not been explained to the public, the relevant ministries and agencies failed to implement that very provision for months on end, while the processors whose businesses the law was meant to protect watched their goods pile up at the port.

The Cabinet Secretary for Investment, Trade and Industry, the Kenya Revenue Authority and the Attorney General had not publicly responded to the specific allegations of administrative failure detailed in the petition at the time of publication.

The High Court has directed the ministry to respond to the case, a requirement that should bring some clarity to what exactly happened between August 2025, when the verification report was completed, and December 2025, when the courts had to step in.

Prof. Ogola, who frames his involvement in the issue through the lens of his presidential aspirations, was pointed in his message to the administration.

“For workers losing jobs today, economic pain is immediate, not a 2027 campaign issue,” he said, in what amounted to an early warning shot that he intends to weaponise the government’s perceived failures on industrialisation as election season approaches.

But beyond the politics, the substance of the complaint deserves serious attention.

A single Tanzanian-based supplier charging more than double the prevailing global rate for a critical manufacturing input, a government exemption collecting dust in an office somewhere in Nairobi, thousands of jobs at risk, and Sh1.7 billion in annual revenue haemorrhaging out of the economy are not the ingredients of a minor administrative hiccup.

They are the hallmarks of systemic failure, one that the courts appear to have taken more seriously than the regulators tasked with preventing it in the first place.

February 17, 2026

Category: Business

INSURERS CANCEL WAR RISK COVER

OIL SHIPPING COSTS TO RISE FURTHER

EXPONENTIAL RISE