Category: Business

  • How A Meru University Dropout Hacked Into Afrisend Money Transfer Siphoning Sh11 Million Exposing Its System Vulnerability After Walking Free From Betting Firm Heist

    How A Meru University Dropout Hacked Into Afrisend Money Transfer Siphoning Sh11 Million Exposing Its System Vulnerability After Walking Free From Betting Firm Heist

    In a stunning twist that has left cybersecurity experts and law enforcement agencies reeling, 27-year-old Seth Mwabe Okwanyo, the Meru University dropout who brazenly walked out of Milimani Law Courts a free man after his case was thrown out, found himself back in handcuffs within minutes, arrested for orchestrating yet another multimillion-shilling cyberheist that has exposed catastrophic flaws in Kenya’s financial technology infrastructure.

    The dramatic rearrest of the self-styled cybersecurity consultant on Tuesday, February 10, 2026, came just moments after Senior Resident Magistrate Irene Thamana dismissed his case and ordered the return of his seized electronic gadgets, including an iPhone 16 Pro, Samsung S22, Starlink router, MacBook M2 laptop and HP Omen laptop.

    As Mwabe stepped into the Nairobi sunshine, probably believing he had beaten the system, detectives from the Banking Fraud Investigation Unit were lying in wait, armed with fresh charges that paint an even more disturbing picture of a serial cyber fraudster who has been playing a dangerous cat-and-mouse game with Kenyan authorities.

    This time, prosecutors allege, Mwabe penetrated the defenses of Afrisend Money Transfer Limited, siphoning a staggering Sh11.4 million through 38 fraudulent transactions that vanished without a trace from the company’s records.

    The July 16, 2025 heist, which investigators say involved the unauthorized installation of a malicious Java application, has thrust Kenya’s fintech sector into crisis mode and raised uncomfortable questions about whether digital financial platforms are nothing more than elaborate houses of cards waiting to be toppled by anyone with enough coding knowledge and criminal intent.

    But this is not Mwabe’s first dance with cybercrime accusations.

    His latest arrest marks the second time in six months that the young man from Wasimbete ward in Migori County has been hauled before the courts on allegations of masterminding sophisticated digital heists worth millions of shillings, suggesting a pattern of brazen criminality that has seen him allegedly target Kenya’s most lucrative digital sectors with surgical precision.

    The genesis of Mwabe’s troubles began on August 30, 2025, when DCI officers stormed his two-bedroom apartment in the upscale Tatu City estate in Kiambu County.

    What they discovered inside read like something out of a cybercrime thriller.

    The apartment had been transformed into what investigators described as a fully equipped computer laboratory, complete with advanced servers, multiple high-end laptops, routers, data storage devices, a safe stuffed with cash, a money-counting machine, and an arsenal of SIM cards and mobile devices designed to bypass verification systems.

    The raid came after Afrisend Money Transfer Limited filed a formal complaint detailing how their payment systems had been compromised in what prosecutors now describe as one of the most sophisticated cyber frauds ever witnessed in Kenya.

    On that fateful day in July, 38 unauthorized transactions drained Sh11,410,165 from the company’s Diamond Trust Bank account via the PesaLink platform, yet bizarrely, these transactions never appeared in Afrisend’s internal records even though recipients confirmed receiving the money.

    Investigating officer Chief Inspector Julius Cheruiyot revealed to the court that Mwabe had allegedly shared a fraudulent application link via a Telegram bot, which was then used to siphon the funds while simultaneously erasing system and database logs to cover his digital tracks.

    The scheme’s sophistication suggested not just technical prowess but an intimate understanding of how to exploit the vulnerabilities in Kenya’s interconnected financial systems.

    But what makes Mwabe’s case truly extraordinary is that this was not his first encounter with cybercrime allegations.

    Just months before the Afrisend heist, reports had surfaced linking him to suspicious activities targeting betting platforms, with some media outlets initially reporting connections to major betting firms before corrections were issued.

    The confusion surrounding these earlier allegations only added to the mystique of a young man who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere in Kenya’s murky cybercrime underworld.

    When he was first arrested in August 2025, Mwabe put up a spirited defense that left many Kenyans torn between admiration and condemnation.

    Standing in his Tatu City apartment as detectives broke down his door, he reportedly proclaimed with startling confidence that he was merely testing software he had developed and the money had unexpectedly appeared in his account.

    It was a defense so audacious that it sparked a national conversation about the fine line between ethical hacking and outright theft.

    The DCI initially sought to detain Mwabe for 20 days to complete their investigations, citing the need to gather forensic evidence from his seized devices and obtain records from Telegram, Starlink, local banks, mobile service providers and the Kenya Bankers Association.

    Prosecutors argued that he posed a flight risk and might interfere with witnesses if released.

    However, on September 3, 2025, Milimani Senior Principal Magistrate Benmark Ekhubi rejected the prosecution’s application, ruling that the request to hold Mwabe longer lacked merit.

    The magistrate granted him release on Sh500,000 cash bail or a Sh1 million bond, noting that the suspect had no control over the forensic investigations and that electronic examinations could proceed without his presence.

    His release sparked jubilant celebrations back in his rural home in Suna West, Migori County, where family members welcomed him with Christian songs.

    His father, Okwanyo Mwabe, a Seventh-day Adventist church pastor, expressed shock at the allegations while his uncle, Ogwari Mwabe, described Seth as a shy, silent but intelligent boy who would never harm anyone.

    The family called on the government to harness rather than punish young tech talents, lamenting the lack of job opportunities for skilled Kenyan youth.

    What nobody knew then was that while Mwabe was celebrating his freedom and family members were singing his praises, investigators were quietly building a new case against him.

    The fresh charges relating to the Afrisend heist had been waiting in the wings, and prosecutors were determined not to let him slip through their fingers a second time.

    The story of Seth Mwabe is as much a tale of wasted potential as it is one of alleged criminality.

    His digital footprint reveals a young man who once harbored legitimate aspirations in cybersecurity.

    On his LinkedIn profile, he described himself as an information security enthusiast driven by passion and claimed to have founded a cybersecurity training community at Meru University before dropping out of his second-year IT program.

    Between 2018 and 2020, Mwabe claimed to have worked with at least three companies, sharpening his skills in digital defense and penetration testing.

    He maintained a blog where he detailed security vulnerabilities, including how poorly protected office printers could be hijacked using default passwords.

    In 2019, he even won Sh50,000 in a cybersecurity challenge organized by a leading local bank, a recognition that briefly placed him on the radar of Kenya’s budding tech security scene.

    But somewhere along the way, according to prosecutors, Mwabe’s knowledge of how to defend systems morphed into expertise on how to attack them.

    His Facebook timeline, littered with posts celebrating victories in cybersecurity competitions and a 2018 photo of him wearing a hacker’s mask with two laptops referencing PwnStorm, a notorious Russian hacking collective, now looks less like youthful enthusiasm and more like a roadmap to a criminal enterprise.

    The implications of Mwabe’s alleged activities extend far beyond the millions he is accused of stealing. His case has ripped the lid off the vulnerability of Kenya’s digital financial infrastructure at a time when the country has been positioning itself as East Africa’s fintech hub.

    If a university dropout operating out of a two-bedroom apartment can repeatedly penetrate the defenses of major financial institutions, what does that say about the billions of shillings transacted daily through mobile and online platforms?

    Cybersecurity analysts who spoke to Kenya Insights described the breaches as wake-up calls that the industry can no longer afford to ignore.

    The fact that Mwabe allegedly managed to install unauthorized software, manipulate transactions, and delete logs without detection suggests either woefully inadequate access controls, possible insider assistance, or both.

    For Afrisend Money Transfer Limited, the breach represents not just a financial catastrophe but a reputational nuclear bomb.

    In an industry built on trust, revelations that your payment system can be hijacked for an entire day with 38 fraudulent transactions going completely undetected is the kind of scandal that can destroy a company overnight.

    The firm now faces tough questions from regulators, customers and investors about how such a massive security failure could occur and why their internal monitoring systems failed to detect the hemorrhaging of millions.

    The case has also exposed uncomfortable truths about how Kenya’s rapid digital transformation has outpaced the development of robust security infrastructure.

    With betting platforms processing billions of shillings weekly and mobile money transactions reaching record highs, the country has become a lucrative target for cybercriminals who have discovered that the digital doors are often locked with flimsy padlocks rather than fortress-grade security.

    When Mwabe appeared before Senior Resident Magistrate Irene Thamana on February 11, 2026, to face charges of unauthorized access to a computer system, computer fraud and 18 counts of money laundering, he maintained his innocence, entering a plea of not guilty to all 20 charges.

    The court granted him bail of Sh500,000 cash or a bond of Sh1.5 million plus two contact persons, with the case set for mention on March 3, 2026.

    But this time, prosecutors are determined to build an airtight case.

    They have evidence of the unauthorized Java application allegedly installed in Afrisend’s system, forensic trails of the 38 transactions, and a web of money laundering activities involving multiple accomplices who allegedly helped Mwabe disguise the source of the stolen funds.

    The prosecution’s case hinges on proving that Mwabe deliberately breached security measures, installed malicious software, manipulated the payment system, deleted logs to cover his tracks, and then laundered the proceeds through a network of accomplices.

    If convicted on all counts, Mwabe faces up to 20 years in prison under Kenya’s Computer Misuse and Cybercrimes Act of 2018.

    As the case winds its way through the courts, it has sparked a national debate about how Kenya should handle young tech prodigies who use their skills for crime. Some Kenyans have expressed sympathy, arguing that unemployment and lack of opportunities drive talented youth toward illicit activities.

    Social media has been flooded with comments lamenting that arresting such talents while ignoring bigger corruption is backwards, with calls for Mwabe’s skills to be harnessed for national cybersecurity rather than letting them rot in jail.

    Critics, however, decry the romanticization of cybercrime, pointing out that Mwabe’s alleged victims are ordinary Kenyans whose data and money are now vulnerable.

    They argue that no amount of talent justifies theft and that giving cybercriminals a pass sends a dangerous message that crime pays as long as you’re smart enough.

    The Seth Mwabe saga also highlights the growing challenge of cybercrime in Kenya. According to the Communications Authority of Kenya, cyber incidents targeting financial services rose by 40 percent in 2025, with weak APIs in digital platforms being the primary vulnerability exploited by hackers.

    The DCI has arrested several suspects this year alone for various cybercrimes, but Mwabe’s case stands out for its audacity and the sheer amount allegedly stolen.

    Abraham Mugambi, DCI’s Regional Criminal Investigations Officer, has reiterated the agency’s commitment to tackling what he calls white-collar crime, particularly computer crimes.

    But the reality is that law enforcement is playing catch-up in a digital arms race where criminals often stay several steps ahead.

    The case raises fundamental questions about Kenya’s readiness for the digital age. As the country races to embrace technological innovation, it must grapple with the security challenges that accompany digital transformation.

    The Sh11.4 million allegedly stolen from Afrisend represents more than financial loss. It symbolizes the cost of inadequate preparation and the urgent need for comprehensive cybersecurity reform.

    Industry experts are calling for mandatory public disclosure of breaches, independent cybersecurity audits for fintech firms, user compensation frameworks, and real regulatory oversight. Without these measures, Kenya risks more scandals and more users losing trust in digital platforms.

    The broader implications extend to youth unemployment and education gaps. With 35 percent of Kenyan graduates struggling to find jobs, some are turning to illicit tech paths for survival.

    Initiatives like scholarships for IT dropouts and programs to channel tech talent into legitimate cybersecurity careers could prevent more young people from following Mwabe’s alleged path.

    As Mwabe’s trial approaches, the stakes couldn’t be higher.

    For prosecutors, it’s a chance to send a strong message that cybercrime will not be tolerated regardless of how skilled the perpetrator. For the defense, it’s an opportunity to argue that a young man’s life should not be destroyed for what they might frame as ethical hacking gone wrong.

    For Kenya’s fintech industry, it’s a moment of reckoning. The Seth Mwabe story isn’t just about one hacker and Sh11 million. It’s about a system where billions move daily, guarded by walls that may be weaker than they look.

    Betting firms, microfinance institutions, mobile money platforms and banks all owe Kenyans answers about how they’re protecting customer funds and data.

    The old adage in betting says the house always wins. But the Mwabe saga has proven that the house isn’t invincible. When even major financial platforms can be hacked by a single determined individual, who really protects the players?

    As the March 3 court date approaches, all eyes will be on whether prosecutors can finally put an end to the alleged crime spree of Kenya’s most notorious young hacker.

    But win or lose, the damage has been done. The vulnerabilities have been exposed. The questions have been asked. And Kenya’s digital revolution will never quite look the same again.

  • Kenya In A Deal With Private Investor To Inject Sh258 Billion Into KQ

    Kenya In A Deal With Private Investor To Inject Sh258 Billion Into KQ

    Kenya’s government has launched an urgent international search for a strategic investor willing to inject up to $2bn into the debt-stricken national airline, marking the most dramatic intervention yet in a carrier that has drained state coffers for more than a decade.

    Treasury Cabinet Secretary John Mbadi announced on Wednesday that an expression of interest would be floated imminently to attract foreign capital of between Sh154.8bn ($1.2bn) and Sh258bn ($2bn), with the government prepared to sweeten the deal by bundling additional assets alongside the financially crippled airline.

    The move comes as Kenya Airways teeters on the edge of insolvency, with liabilities of Sh309.9bn dwarfing assets of just Sh180.3bn as of June 2025, producing a negative equity position of Sh129.5bn that has worsened from Sh118.2bn just six months earlier. The carrier’s balance sheet deterioration underscores the urgency of Nairobi’s search for a white knight investor capable of reversing years of mismanagement and undercapitalisation.

    “The new investor is expected to inject a minimum of $1.2bn and up to $2bn into the business,” Mbadi told reporters, adding that the government had already absorbed Sh63.1bn of the airline’s debt, which would be converted to equity once a strategic partner was secured. “This is not about a partner who merely injects money, but one who can run a successful airline.”

    The rescue effort has triggered fierce competition between state-backed investors from Singapore and Qatar, according to industry sources. Temasek Holdings, Singapore’s sovereign wealth fund and majority owner of Singapore Airlines, has reportedly proposed acquiring a 90 per cent stake through fresh capital injections, though the firm has publicly denied the reports. Qatar Airways, meanwhile, is said to be pursuing a comprehensive management agreement that could include operational control of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport alongside its investment in the airline.

    The interest from Gulf and Asian state investors reflects the strategic value of Kenya Airways’ hub position in East Africa, even as the carrier’s financial performance remains dismal. The airline slumped to a half-year loss of Sh12.15bn in the six months to June 2025, a sharp reversal from the Sh634m profit posted in the same period the previous year and ending a brief return to profitability that had lasted barely 12 months.

    Speculation about an imminent deal has sent Kenya Airways shares soaring 69.7 per cent in eight trading days in January, pushing the stock to Sh5.04 and giving the carrier a market capitalisation of Sh28.6bn, despite the gaping hole in its balance sheet. The rally reflects investor hopes that a deep-pocketed strategic partner could transform the airline’s prospects, though sceptics question whether any investor would willingly shoulder such extensive liabilities.

    The rescue package represents the latest chapter in a tortured history of state intervention. In 2017, the government and 11 commercial banks, including KCB, Equity and Cooperative Bank, converted billions in debt to equity in a failed turnaround attempt. That swap increased the government’s stake to 48.9 per cent from 29.8 per cent while banks acquired 38.1 per cent through a special purpose vehicle, diluting Air France-KLM’s holding to just 7.8 per cent from 26.7 per cent.

    The government’s willingness to bundle other assets, possibly including airport terminals or ground handling operations, to attract investors highlights the desperation to offload an airline that has become a chronic drain on public finances. Analysts warn, however, that potential investors will demand not just equity rather than debt to avoid further balance sheet stress, but also operational autonomy that could prove politically contentious.

    “The proposal is reasonable, but the challenge will be getting an investor to commit funds and realise a return on investment,” said Eric Musau, head of research at Standard Investment Bank. “The government can add something to go along with the deal such as offering Kenya Airways airport terminals to the investor.”

    The Treasury’s search takes place against a backdrop of mounting pressure from the International Monetary Fund, which made finding a strategic investor for Kenya Airways a condition of its lending programme with Nairobi. The government’s failure to secure a partner has left this IMF conditionality unmet, adding urgency to the current effort even as the airline’s operating performance shows few signs of sustainable improvement.

    The carrier’s recent losses stemmed partly from the grounding of three Boeing 787-8 Dreamliners for maintenance, representing a third of its wide-body fleet and forcing route cancellations that decimated revenues and passenger numbers. The grounding exposed the airline’s vulnerability to fleet disruptions and raised questions about management competence.

    Leadership instability has further complicated the search for investors. Chief executive Allan Kilavuka departed in November after six years at the helm, months before his contract was due to expire in April 2026, while chairman Michael Joseph retired in June without being replaced. The dual leadership vacuum prompted Mbadi to acknowledge that governance fixes were now the priority before securing strategic investment.

    The government insists Kenya Airways will retain its national carrier status and preserve its JKIA hub advantage even under foreign ownership, though regulatory constraints limit foreign stakes to a maximum 49 per cent. Whether that proposition proves attractive to investors eyeing a carrier with decades of losses, a deteriorating balance sheet and persistent operational challenges remains the critical question facing Nairobi’s rescue effort.

    Industry observers note that Kenya Airways’ predicament mirrors broader struggles across African aviation, where carriers face high fuel costs, regulatory fragmentation, limited infrastructure and intense competition from Gulf airlines that have steadily eroded African carriers’ market share on intercontinental routes.

    The Treasury’s determination to find a solution before the airline’s financial position worsens further suggests that privatisation, long resisted on nationalist grounds, has become the only viable path forward. Yet the risk remains that even a multibillion-dollar injection may prove insufficient without fundamental operational reforms that previous rescue efforts have failed to deliver.

  • Former Jumia Kenya Executive Exposes Racial Discrimination in The Online Firm

    Former Jumia Kenya Executive Exposes Racial Discrimination in The Online Firm

    Former Jumia Kenya Executive Alleges Racial Discrimination in Language Preference Row

    Chief operations officer claims French-speaking bias led to constructive dismissal from e-commerce giant

    NAIROBI — A former senior executive at Jumia Kenya has filed a lawsuit alleging he was forced out of his position partly because he does not speak French, in a case that has raised questions about diversity and inclusion practices at one of Africa’s largest e-commerce platforms.

    James Njine Kamau, who served as chief operations officer at Ecart Services Kenya Limited, Jumia’s parent company, claims the firm’s chief executive told him in August 2025 that he preferred French-speaking managers because they were “easier to deal with” than their English-speaking counterparts.

    The allegation, detailed in court documents filed at the Chief Magistrate’s court in Milimani, Nairobi, on Tuesday, marks a rare public challenge to corporate practices at a company that has positioned itself as a champion of digital commerce across the continent.

    Mr Njine, who spent seven years rising through the ranks at Jumia before his departure in late 2025, is seeking at least 14.1 million Kenyan shillings in compensation and damages. His lawsuit paints a picture of systematic marginalisation that he says began shortly after a new chief executive joined the company in May 2024.

    “This conduct was discriminatory, arbitrary, targeted me on the basis of linguistic and cultural identity, and was clearly designed to marginalise me, undermine my professional standing, and impede my career progression,” Mr Njine stated in his witness statement.

    The case comes at a sensitive time for Jumia, which has been restructuring operations across Africa as it seeks to achieve profitability after years of losses. The company, which went public on the New York Stock Exchange in 2019, has faced mounting pressure from investors to demonstrate sustainable growth in challenging markets.

    Ecart Services has denied any wrongdoing. In an emailed response, Ibrahim Mbogo, speaking for the company, said Jumia observes “the highest standards of corporate governance and labour laws in Kenya” and is “committed to a diverse, inclusive, and merit-based workplace.”

    “Jumia cannot provide specific comments on the allegations or the merits of the case at this time, as we respect the judicial process and will present our defence formally in court,” Mr Mbogo added.

    According to the lawsuit, Mr Njine’s troubles began after the arrival of new management. He claims he was subjected to what he describes as a “fundamentally flawed” performance improvement plan designed to create a pretext for his removal rather than to support his development.

    The former executive alleges he was deliberately excluded from high-level meetings and strategic decision-making forums that were integral to his role as chief commercial officer, a position he had been promoted to in December 2024.

    “Such actions were not isolated, but systematic, coordinated, and deliberate, intended to erode my authority, diminish my professional standing, and create a humiliating, hostile, and untenable working environment,” Mr Njine stated.

    The situation came to a head when the company presented him with a separation agreement offering a 3.2 million shilling package, which he rejected. The agreement would have terminated his contract on December 31, 2025.

    Mr Njine’s legal team characterises his subsequent resignation as constructive dismissal, arguing that the working environment had become intolerable. In a demand letter sent on December 4, 2025, his lawyers wrote that the company’s actions had “stripped our client of the dignity, authority, and responsibilities inherent in his role.”

    The compensation Mr Njine is seeking includes 8.7 million shillings for unfair termination, 2.2 million shillings representing three months’ salary in lieu of notice, and 735,743 shillings for accrued but untaken leave. He also wants the court to order immediate vesting of 4,000 shares granted to him under Jumia’s virtual restricted stock unit programme in December 2024, which were scheduled to vest in December 2026.

    Beyond financial compensation, Mr Njine is asking the court to declare that Ecart’s conduct violated both the Employment Act and the Constitution of Kenya. He wants a ruling that he was subjected to unfair labour practices through “deliberate marginalisation” and the imposition of what he calls a sham performance improvement plan.

    The case highlights broader questions about corporate culture and diversity in multinational companies operating across Africa, where linguistic and cultural differences can complicate management structures. Jumia, founded in Nigeria by French entrepreneurs, operates across 11 African countries with varying colonial histories and official languages.

    Employment law experts say the case could set important precedents for how discrimination based on language is treated under Kenyan law, particularly in multinational corporations where linguistic preferences may intersect with broader issues of cultural bias.

    The lawsuit arrives as Jumia continues to navigate a difficult business environment. In November, the company announced it was leveraging artificial intelligence to reduce its workforce by seven percent as part of ongoing efficiency measures. Earlier this year, it announced plans to cut logistics costs through the introduction of electric vehicles.

    Mr Njine’s career at Jumia spanned multiple roles. He joined as a commercial planner in 2018, before being promoted to head of commercial operations and head of performance and planning in 2022. In December 2023, he took on the additional role of head of general merchandise before his final promotion to chief commercial officer.

    The court has yet to set a hearing date for the case. Both parties are expected to present their arguments in the coming months, with the outcome likely to have implications for employment practices across Kenya’s growing technology sector.

  • M-Gas Pursues Carbon Credit Billions as Koko Networks Wreckage Exposes Market’s Dark Underbelly

    M-Gas Pursues Carbon Credit Billions as Koko Networks Wreckage Exposes Market’s Dark Underbelly

    Circle Gas eyes $27m from controversial offset scheme while critics allege predecessor’s collapse stemmed from systematic overcrediting and regulatory defiance

    Circle Gas, the London-listed parent company of Kenyan cooking gas distributor M-Gas, is pressing ahead with plans to extract more than $27m from carbon credit sales by June, even as the spectacular implosion of rival Koko Networks has laid bare endemic flaws in how the clean cooking sector monetises environmental claims.

    The timing is striking. Just days after Koko Networks filed for bankruptcy on January 30, leaving 1.5 million households without subsidised bioethanol fuel and 700 employees jobless, M-Gas secured a Letter of Approval from Kenya’s National Environment Management Authority.

    The company is now negotiating to upgrade these credits into the Paris Agreement’s Letter of Authorisation category, which would unlock access to higher-value international compliance markets.

    But the wreckage of Koko Networks, which invested $300m before collapsing in a dispute with Kenyan regulators, has exposed troubling questions about whether companies in this sector are generating genuine climate benefits or merely exploiting loopholes in carbon accounting rules to manufacture phantom emission reductions.

    According to a detailed analysis circulating among carbon market participants, Koko’s business model was fundamentally compromised by three critical flaws.

    The company claimed a 93 per cent fraction of non-renewable biomass rate for Nairobi, when scientific studies show the actual figure is closer to 38 per cent.

    This single metric, which measures the rate at which trees fail to regenerate after being harvested for charcoal, resulted in Koko overclaiming its climate impact by 2.4 times.

    The overcrediting extended further. Koko asserted that all 1.3 million customers previously used only charcoal, despite Kenya’s 2019 census showing 67.2 per cent of Nairobi households already used liquefied petroleum gas.

    The company then compounded these distortions by claiming customers consumed 15 litres of bioethanol monthly, based on surveys of just 159 households out of 900,000, rather than using precise consumption data its automated fuel dispensers actually collected.

    Independent ratings agency BeZero Carbon assigned Koko a B grade overall, indicating low likelihood of achieving claimed emission reductions, and a D rating specifically for carbon accounting.

    When the Government of Kenya requested Koko amend its methodology to use accurate figures, the company refused, effectively choosing bankruptcy over compliance.

    The Kenyan government has now publicly defended its decision to deny Koko authorisation.

    Trade Cabinet Secretary Lee Kinyanjui revealed that Koko sought approval to sell carbon credits that would have exhausted Kenya’s entire allocation under the Paris Agreement’s Article 6 compliance market, effectively monopolising the country’s carbon export capacity.

    “The business model did not align. It was not possible to allow everything they wanted to claim because it would mop up everything that Kenya would otherwise do,” Kinyanjui told reporters. “If we took up all the carbon credits that Kenya would get and gave only one company, what would we tell the 10 or 20 other companies that are also eligible for the same, including those in agriculture and manufacturing?”

    The remarks offer the first detailed official explanation for Koko’s collapse and preview Kenya’s anticipated legal defence against potential claims.

    Beyond the overcrediting concerns, Kinyanjui cited fundamental disagreements over credit volumes. “In the tabulation of numbers, there was no concurrence because if Kenya gave in and authorised the numbers they were claiming, no other company in Kenya would have been able to claim.”

    Kenya also questioned the authenticity of Koko’s carbon credits and cited lack of transparency in the firm’s business model.

    While acknowledging Koko’s important role in reducing reliance on charcoal, Kinyanjui insisted the company’s approach was fundamentally flawed.

    “When the business model is not workable, even if you push the journey at some point it will stall. What the company needs is a rethink and to reconfigure its business model.”

    M-Gas now enters this fraught landscape with structural advantages and vulnerabilities.

    The company uses LPG rather than bioethanol, a fuel switch that BeZero research suggests produces up to six times fewer carbon dioxide emissions than biomass stoves.

    Its smart meters, connected via Safaricom’s narrowband Internet of Things network, can theoretically provide the precise usage data that Koko conspicuously avoided reporting.

    Yet M-Gas operates under similar economic constraints.

    The company posted a $24.2m operating loss for 2024, down from $33.3m the previous year but still deeply in the red.

    Like Koko, M-Gas provides cylinders and cookers at no upfront cost, subsidising both equipment and fuel prices through projected carbon revenues.

    The business model remains fundamentally dependent on selling offsets at premium prices.

    Circle Gas has already received $8.5m of a $27m carbon credit purchase offer, according to UK financial disclosures.

    The company estimates that securing a Letter of Authorisation, which allows credits to be sold under Article 6 of the Paris Agreement with corresponding adjustments to Kenya’s national carbon accounts, could raise an additional $9m based on credits already issued.

    Safaricom, Kenya’s dominant telecommunications provider, holds an 18.96 per cent stake in Circle Gas, with both current chief executive Peter Ndegwa and former chief Michael Joseph sitting on the UK firm’s board.

    The Kenyan government owns 35 per cent of Safaricom, creating indirect state exposure to M-Gas’s carbon strategy.

    The clean cooking carbon credit market has become a battleground between development imperatives and integrity concerns.

    Research published by UC Berkeley in January 2024 found average overcrediting of 9.2 times across widely used methodologies, with worst cases exceeding 1,000 per cent overclaiming.

    The study specifically identified the methodology Koko employed as particularly problematic.

    Carbon standards bodies have responded. Gold Standard introduced new requirements in January 2026 mandating accurate fraction of non-renewable biomass calculations.

    The sector’s new CLEAR methodology, developed by the Clean Cooking and Climate Consortium, promises continuously tracked energy consumption data.

    Three methodologies from Verra and Gold Standard have earned Core Carbon Principles certification, signalling improved accounting practices.

    These reforms come too late for Koko. David Ndii, economic adviser to President William Ruto, described the case as uniquely multidimensional, involving questions about the Paris Agreement itself, cookstove credit veracity, Kenya’s carbon regulations, Koko’s business model transparency, and diplomatic interference.

    When asked about the $300m invested and jobs lost, Ndii replied curtly that even good doctors lose patients.

    The Koko collapse also threatens Kenyan taxpayers with a potential $179.6m liability.

    The World Bank’s Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency provided political risk insurance to Koko in March 2025, specifically covering the carbon credit programme against breaches like expropriation. Koko is now preparing to file a claim alleging the Kenyan government breached its obligations, potentially triggering the guarantee.

    The insurance claim carries particular weight because Kenya had signed an investment framework agreement with Koko in June 2024 that appeared to clear the path for compliance market sales under Article 6.

    However, the government never issued the letters of authorisation required to complete transactions, creating what Koko may argue constitutes a breach of contract.

    The MIGA policy explicitly covers government breach of contract, and Kinyanjui’s public comments appear designed to establish that Kenya acted reasonably in protecting its limited carbon budget allocation.

    PricewaterhouseCoopers assumed control of Koko on February 1 through administrators Muniu Thoithi and George Weru, raising faint hopes of a potential rescue.

    But with the company having lost money on every litre of fuel sold to 1.5 million households and operating 3,000 bioethanol refilling machines across Kenya, any restructuring would require fundamentally reimagining a business model predicated on carbon revenues that proved unattainable.

    M-Gas must navigate this treacherous terrain while Kenya’s regulators face pressure to both attract climate investment and ensure exported carbon credits represent genuine emission reductions that do not compromise the country’s Paris Agreement commitments.

    Kenya has limited capacity to authorise carbon credit transfers without exhausting its nationally determined contribution budget.

    The government’s stance reflects hard commercial realities. Compliance market credits fetch approximately $20 per tonne, roughly ten times the $1-$2 commanded by largely discredited voluntary market offsets.

    Koko’s business model depended on accessing these premium prices, which its B-rated credits and questionable methodology made increasingly difficult.

    The voluntary market prices proved insufficient to cover the company’s subsidies, which reduced fuel costs by 25-40 per cent and stove prices by up to 85 per cent.

    M-Gas faces identical pressures. Its ethanol refills were priced from as low as 30 Kenyan shillings and stoves at approximately 1,500 shillings, making them cheaper than charcoal for poor households but creating the same dependency on carbon finance that destroyed Koko.

    Unless M-Gas can demonstrate superior carbon accounting and secure higher ratings, it risks replicating Koko’s fatal trajectory.

    The stakes extend beyond one country’s borders.

    The aviation industry’s Carbon Offsetting and Reduction Scheme for International Aviation faces a credit shortage ahead of crucial 2027-2028 compliance deadlines.

    Airlines require millions of high-quality offsets, with prices in compliance markets reaching $20 per tonne compared with $1-$2 for standard credits in discredited voluntary markets.

    BeZero analysis shows projects with AAA or AA ratings now command three times the price of lower-rated credits.

    The market is bifurcating between developers that can prove their impact through metered data and those relying on sampling surveys prone to bias and manipulation.

    For M-Gas, the path forward requires demonstrating it has learned from Koko’s mistakes.

    The company must publish transparent, conservative carbon accounting that withstands academic scrutiny.

    It must use precise consumption data its smart meters collect rather than convenient assumptions.

    And it must price its service at levels that do not require perpetual carbon subsidies to remain viable.

    The alternative is another spectacular failure that further erodes confidence in carbon markets, damages Kenya’s reputation as a destination for climate investment, and leaves hundreds of thousands of households cycling back to dirty cooking fuels that kill an estimated 15,000 Kenyans annually through indoor air pollution.

    Circle Gas and M-Gas declined requests for comment on their carbon credit methodology and whether they plan to use accurate site-specific fraction of non-renewable biomass calculations rather than inflated national defaults.

    The Kenyan government’s environment authority did not respond to questions about what standards M-Gas must meet to receive authorisation.

    Kenya has established strict controls over carbon credit exports through a rigorous eligibility criterion administered by the National Environment Management Authority. NEMA issues letters of authorisation only after verifying that projects meet both domestic standards and requirements set by credit purchasers.

    The dispute between NEMA and Koko centred on disagreement over authorised credit volumes, with the regulator refusing to approve quantities that would crowd out other eligible companies across agriculture, manufacturing and energy sectors.

    The government now walks a delicate line.

    Too restrictive, and it risks deterring the climate investment Kenya desperately needs to transition millions of households from deadly cooking fuels.

    Too permissive, and it compromises the integrity of its carbon exports while potentially exhausting its Paris Agreement allowances on projects delivering questionable climate benefits.

    Koko’s collapse suggests Kenya has chosen integrity over short-term investment, setting a precedent that will shape M-Gas’s negotiations.

    What remains clear is that the clean cooking sector stands at an inflection point.

    Carbon finance can either catalyse genuine transitions to cleaner energy or become another vehicle for greenwashing, where companies manufacture paper emission reductions while failing to deliver meaningful climate benefits.

    Koko Networks chose one path and crashed. M-Gas must now choose its own.

  • Why Safaricom Investors Are Worried About M-Pesa in Ethiopia

    Why Safaricom Investors Are Worried About M-Pesa in Ethiopia

    Ethiopians are spending just 50 cents per month on the mobile money platform, raising questions about the return on a $19.4bn bet

    Safaricom’s flagship M-Pesa mobile money service is faltering in Ethiopia, generating barely enough revenue to buy a coffee per user each month and casting doubt on the Kenyan telecoms giant’s most ambitious international expansion.

    The mobile money platform pulled in a meagre Sh12.2m ($94,000) across nine months to December 2025 from 2.36m active users in Ethiopia, translating to about 50 cents per user per month. The figure stands in stark contrast to Kenya, where M-Pesa users generate Sh374.83 monthly, more than 700 times Ethiopia’s rate.

    The dismal performance threatens to undermine Safaricom’s growth strategy in Africa’s second most populous nation, where the company paid $150m for the mobile money licence alone after an $850m telecoms licence. Including total infrastructure investments, the consortium has ploughed more than $2.27bn into the venture.

    “M-Pesa users in Ethiopia are mainly buying airtime products and data. Twenty per cent of sales go through the M-Pesa channel initiated by self-top ups,” said Wim Vanhelleputte, chief executive of Safaricom Telecommunications Ethiopia, acknowledging the platform’s limited monetisation.

    The fundamental problem: Ethiopians are using M-Pesa for free transactions rather than fee-generating transfers and payments.

    Instead of person-to-person money transfers that powered M-Pesa’s explosive growth in Kenya, Ethiopian subscribers primarily use the platform to purchase data bundles and airtime, services that carry no transaction fees.

    The struggle highlights a more profound challenge. Cash remains overwhelmingly dominant in Ethiopia, with 99 per cent of small-value transactions conducted in physical currency. World Bank data shows 99 per cent of Ethiopians pay utility bills in cash, compared with just 12 per cent in Kenya.

    “Banking penetration in urban areas is relatively high but 99 per cent of small value transactions are in cash,” Safaricom acknowledged in investor briefings, effectively admitting its bet on digital payments confronts entrenched consumer behaviour.

    M-Pesa contributed a negligible 0.13 per cent of Ethiopia’s total service revenue of Sh9.7bn during the nine months, whilst data services accounted for 66.97 per cent. The imbalance underscores how the Ethiopian operation remains fundamentally a traditional telecoms business, not the transformative fintech platform investors expected.

    The comparison with Kenya is sobering. During the year to March 2025, M-Pesa in Kenya generated Sh161.1bn from 35.82m monthly active customers, accounting for 44.2 per cent of total service revenue and cementing its position as Safaricom’s primary earnings engine. Even in 2010, when M-Pesa was three years old in Kenya as it is now in Ethiopia, monthly revenue per user averaged Sh79, far exceeding Ethiopia’s current 50 cents.

    What worked spectacularly in Kenya appears to have stalled in Ethiopia. M-Pesa scaled rapidly after its 2007 launch by riding urban-to-rural remittance flows as workers in cities sent money to relatives in villages. But Ethiopia lacks that dynamic. World Bank research shows only 11 per cent of Ethiopians have accessed loans from formal financial institutions, with most relying on informal savings groups and family networks.

    The monetisation crisis emerged despite some operational progress. M-Pesa revenue in Ethiopia has actually declined precipitously, plunging 64.3 per cent from Sh24.4m in September 2024 to just Sh8.7m by November 2025, even as the merchant base surged 358 per cent to 30,700 outlets.

    Safaricom has positioned the shortfall as a long-term infrastructure investment aligned with Ethiopia’s financial sector reforms. In October, M-Pesa integrated with EthSwitch, Ethiopia’s national payment switch, connecting to more than 30 banks and enabling interoperable QR payments across 50,000 merchants as part of Ethiopia’s National Digital Payment Strategy 2026-2030.

    But interoperability alone cannot overcome the fundamental barrier: Ethiopians do not yet see compelling reasons to pay fees for digital transactions when cash works perfectly well for their needs.

    The stakes could hardly be higher. Ethiopia’s 120m population positions it as one of Africa’s biggest long-term growth opportunities, and Safaricom has staked its regional expansion strategy on cracking this market. The company targets break-even in Ethiopia by 2027, banking on gradual subscriber growth and improved revenue streams.

    Investors have reason for scepticism. Annual licence costs alone total $66.7m, exceeding Safaricom Ethiopia’s entire FY2024 revenue of $53.6m, according to World Bank reports. The telco lost $325m in 2024, though losses narrowed 53 per cent year-on-year, providing some consolation.

    During the six months to September 2025, a 59 per cent contraction in Ethiopia losses helped raise Safaricom’s half-year profit 52.1 per cent to Sh42.7bn. Yet Kenya’s business remained the main profit driver on M-Pesa’s back, whose revenue rose 14 per cent to Sh88.1bn.

    For now, Ethiopia represents more hope than revenue. The question troubling investors is whether patience and infrastructure investment will eventually unlock Ethiopia’s digital payments potential, or whether Safaricom has fundamentally misjudged the market’s readiness for its transformative mobile money model.

    The 50-cent-per-month reality suggests the latter possibility cannot be dismissed.

  • The Crash of Koko Networks: A Detailed Look Into How and Why It Happened, And The Potential For A “Silver Lining” For Carbon Integrity

    The Crash of Koko Networks: A Detailed Look Into How and Why It Happened, And The Potential For A “Silver Lining” For Carbon Integrity

    By Tom Price

    As the news of Koko Networks’ bankruptcy sank in over the weekend, a false narrative was created that this was somehow the fault of Government of Kenya regulators, for failing to approve the sale of Koko’s carbon credits.

    While that may have been the trigger, if anything that decision is a silver lining in this tragedy, showing that the system for ensuring high quality carbon credits is starting to work as intended.

    Regulators aren’t rubber stamps – and in the case of Koko, the Government of Kenya did their job exactly right, enabling carbon credits to exist alongside Kenya’s other high quality exports like tea and coffee. And that’s because Koko’s carbon credits were largely hot air, and the failure of Koko to sell their offsets was entirely of their own making.

    Before explaining why, first a moment of compassion for the victims here: the customers, employees, investors, lenders, and other partners who thought they were supporting a clean cooking fuel company rather than a flawed carbon credit company, and were misled by Koko’s leadership team.

    To their credit, they built Koko into a world class operation, run by some of the smartest, most capable operators available in business today; other companies will be lucky to snap them up.

    Koko was incredibly impressive, a marvel of technology and branding meeting a market ripe for disruption.

    The stoves worked well, the fuel was clean and affordable, and the fuel ATMs were convenient and modern. And the need to replace dirty, unsustainable charcoal is as pressing as ever. The fatal flaw for Koko was the heart of their operation: how they counted carbon credits.

    A business model built on carbon

    That’s because making and selling carbon credits was the entire business. As they told the Harvard Business Review, Koko subsidized their fuel by 25-40% and their stoves by up to 85% – they lost money on every customer they signed up, and every liter of fuel they sold. And if their claims are to be believed, they were selling upwards of ~20 million liters every month at the end, losing money on every single one. So the only way to break-even – let alone profit – was carbon credits.

    The problem lay in how Koko exploited the now-closing gaps in how carbon credits are generated. Koko has to date been issued almost 15 million carbon credits by Gold Standard, at least 170,000 of which have been sold to companies like Bank of America and Bristol Meyers. But those were sold into the voluntary market, which generally commands lower prices. The real money was in the compliance market, like CORSIA which covers airlines.

    According to Gold Standard and Koko’s own documents, Koko expected to earn as much as 5+ carbon credits per customer per year for ten years – far, far more than other companies in the same market. These carbon credits, generating $100 in revenue per customer per year, would be used to repay the cost of the stove and the fuel subsidy and then generate operating profit for the company.

    This carbon finance would therefore be used to provide a clean transition from cooking with dirty fuels, return a profit to investors and provide the company with healthy margins to continue expansion.

    Why was this approach doomed to fail from the start? There are three fatal flaws in Koko’s approach, lessons that must be learned for the sector to build back better. 

    1 – Overcounting their sustainability. Koko used a wildly inaccurate fNRB (the fraction of non-renewable biomass, or the modeled rate at which trees won’t grow back after cutting them down to make charcoal). Koko claimed 93%, when in fact fNRB in Kenyan cities like Nairobi is 38%. The inaccuracy of Koko’s assumption has been widely known and discussed for some time. Koko, like most other project developers, opted against using scientific studies and instead chose a figure that would maximise the amount of savings they can claim.

    That metric alone would result in overcredited Koko by 2.4X.

    2 – Overcounting their impact, with a vastly distorted and inaccurate claim of baseline fuel usage. Koko claimed all of their urban customers in cities like Nairobi were previously using only charcoal (6.8 tons of firewood equivalent, or about 1 ton of charcoal per household per year), and none used any LPG, and that they all used their Koko stoves all the time instead.

    Any credible survey shows that is simply not true. “Fuel stacking” (cooking with multiple fuels alongside one another) is the default, not exception, and LPG use is widespread among households in urban Kenya.

    At the start of their staggering growth, 52% of households in urban Kenya were already using LPG (2019 census ref, table 2.18, page 330). In Nairobi, the urban area where Koko expanded the fastest, the number was at 67.2%. The logic that all of the customers onboarded were solely non LPG customers is simply not credible. Yet Koko claimed that all ~1.3 million customers were using *only* dirty charcoal before switching to ethanol.

    That would overcredit them significantly, compounding their fNRB overcrediting.

    From Koko’s Gold Standard documents, GS 11440. Citation: GS11440_ER Sheet_MP07_VPA2_V03_20.01.2025.xlsx. Dated March 2025. Full documents available here.

    From Koko’s Gold Standard documents, GS 11440. Citation: GS11440_ER Sheet_MP07_VPA2_V03_20.01.2025.xlsx. Dated March 2025. Full documents available here.


    3 – Overcounting how much clean fuel their customers were actually using.
    This is perhaps the most egregious metric. Koko was a walled garden system – you could only fill their stoves with their tanks, which you could only top up in their fuel ATMs, and only after you punched in your personal customer ID.

    Customer ID

    They knew exactly, to the liter, how much each customer was buying every month, and there was every incentive to report that number … if it would be higher than the claimed average.

    But they didn’t.

    Instead, they used an average of 15+ liters for every customer, every month, “verified” most recently by surveying only 159 customers out of almost 900,000 households in March 2023.

    There’s a simple way to know what actually happened – they have the data, they just didn’t use it. And the most obvious reason why is also the most likely one.

    These three metrics alone account for substantial overcrediting, with some estimates suggesting as much as 10X (without actual fuel sales data, we may never know). 

    Academic experts weigh in

    The concern about what a company like Koko was doing was explicitly laid out in research by UC Berkeley in January, 2024, in ground breaking work which for the first time took a comprehensive look at the over/under crediting in the global cookstove market.

    The researchers examined every methodology and input metric in detail, including the methodology Koko chose and how Koko chose to interpret the rules. Literally every concern they raised about potential overcrediting was something Koko had chosen to do.

    The attention surrounding the research accelerated calls for reform, and pretty soon the clock for Koko was ticking. Tough new rules were coming into place, like those by Gold Standard and UNFCCC that would come into effect in January 2026 requiring the use of an accurate fNRB.

    So the race was on to get those credits sold, and that required Kenya to sign off on a Letter of Authorization.

    A changing market

    Some background may be in order. Not all carbon credits are the same. Early methodologies relied largely on insufficient sampling and estimates, which UC Berkeley pointed out was rife with overcrediting. To its credit, the cookstove sector has responded, and now projects that can prove their use and impact, such as through tracking fuel sold or stove use, are seen as more credible. The Gold Standard’s accurate new “Metered and Measured” methodology is widely seen as most reliable, and the new CLEAR methodology has helpfully incorporated approaches relying on continuously-tracked energy consumption (CTEC).

    But as the market continues to move towards quality and tougher standards, outdated methodologies are still used by legacy projects. Koko has chosen to continue using one of the worst rated methodologies (AMS-I.E), for perhaps the simple expedient that it was in their best interest.

    This is not to discount the challenges for developers as standards change, but it has now been almost three years since the pre-print of the UC Berkeley research became public, and concerns about overcrediting have been constant in the last years.

    This duality is what has created the market opportunity for the rise of ratings agencies like BeZero, which independently evaluate carbon projects on objective standards, and then rate them from AAA-D depending on quality.  

    Here’s how cookstove projects stacked up last year, by rating:

    When Koko was rated, they earned only a “B” overall grade, which means “the credit issued by the project has a low likelihood of achieving 1 tonne of CO2 removal.” And they got an even lower “D” on the sub-metric for carbon accounting.

    Since they chose not to use more credible metrics and earn a higher rating, their only hope was to find large buyers who either wouldn’t know enough, or wouldn’t ask before buying the offsets – or simply didn’t care about quality.

    For a while that market seemed like CORSIA, the program for airlines to offset their emissions. And while CORSIA had their own standards, they weren’t nearly tough enough – check out just how poorly rated all the CORSIA eligible projects are:

    Crash Out

    Which brings us back around to the Government of Kenya’s refusal to issue Koko a letter of authorization to sell into the CORSIA market. According to reporting by QCINTEL, Kenya’s National Environment Management Authority (NEMA) wanted Koko to amend their fNRB to be more accurate, and Koko refused. Kenya needed the carbon credits it approved to be valid, since it would impact their ability to meet their Nationally Determined Contribution (NDC) under the Paris climate accords. Koko’s approach to over-crediting meant they requested an outsized number of authorizations from the country’s entire budget for all projects, industries and years.

    And reportedly attempts to work with Koko to use more credible approaches so that the Kenyan Government could safely authorize a smaller volume within their national budget were rebuffed by the company, unwilling to be reasonable.

    By refusing to use credible numbers, Koko chose their own fate. There can be no more damning indictment than of them being willing to let the company go out of business (and try to blame regulators in hopes of claiming an insurance settlement from MIGA) than to play by the rules and be accurate. They crashed out instead of coming clean.

    Plenty of blame to go around

    Koko is not alone in blame here. These fundamental flaws in the business model link back to larger flaws within the system.

    1. Standard bodies and verification bodies  

    Gold Standard, which issued almost 15M carbon credits to Koko, has some tough questions to answer about why they continued to let projects use significantly divergent fNRB rates at the same time in the same market, and why a company like Koko was allowed to choose an estimate of usage, even though Koko had all the data needed to prove it.

    Meanwhile, the independent verifier hired by Koko signed off on millions of credits based on ~150 surveys of customers picked by Koko out of their ~900,000 total customer population. Why was the company not challenged to provide actual fuel sales data?

    (On a more positive note, it is helpful to see Gold Standard’s recent methodological updates – including both overall as well as to its suite of cookstove methodologies – to align with the Paris Agreement, introduce greater scrutiny on data used and increase the hurdle rate on what qualifies as a GS VER.)

    1. Koko carbon and commercial leaders

    The leadership at Koko who set up, generated and sold carbon credits under false pretenses have to accept responsibility for the choices they made. All of this was being debated publicly and widely. None of these issues were a secret or a surprise. So it’s difficult to find another way to interpret the design of the carbon program they oversaw, and the data they chose to report, other than that at some point along the way they realized their mistakes and yet continued to knowingly mislead stakeholders about the veracity of their carbon claims, in hopes of a big payout. Estimates are Koko was on track to eventually issue almost $1B in carbon credits.

    1. The investor community

    Investors appear to have missed key items during their due diligence on this business. All their workings are readily accessible in the public domain. It only takes someone with a few hours on their hands to unpack what is being stated and walk outside and check those assumptions with reality. If they couldn’t check reality, they could have at least referenced the latest science, and compared it to Koko’s claims.

    For example, the MIGA due diligence report is publicly accessible. The publicly-available key documents and scope of review don’t appear to have reviewed the actual carbon programme they were insuring against.

    How the industry moves forward

    The tragedy of all of this is that while the business model of using carbon to enable broader clean cooking access is fundamentally sound, Koko’s overwhelming reliance on only that revenue while deeply subsidizing their fuel sales was fatally flawed from the start.

    In Kenya, unsubsidised ethanol cooking fuel is the most expensive method to cook any meal (link to CCT paper). The notion that a perpetual carbon subsidy should cover the negative operating margin was always going to meet reality at some point in time, no matter how much good PR they received.

    Koko was an incredibly well run operation, delivering real value and benefit to customers.  Perhaps they could have charged a higher price for the fuel, reducing risk exposure. Or maybe if they had aimed to earn fewer credits but gotten a higher price for them, they could have made it work. In recent months, there has been a very clear trend towards projects with higher ratings earning a multiple of the value of lower rated ones.

    That makes sense – to use an analogy, if carbon credit buyers are purchasing bottles of water, they don’t want the container, they want the content. A ton of emission reductions should be a provable ton of emission reductions. If you can prove it, you should be paid more. And if you can’t prove it, then you should sell at a discount, if at all. Koko tried to have it both ways – selling a water bottle labeled as “full” but with only a few drops at the bottom, trying to get premium pricing for a substandard product.

    The good news is that tools now exist for all cookstove projects to prove their impact, through logging fuel sales or incorporating stove use monitors.

    The urgency is greater than ever. Cooking with firewood and charcoal adds more CO2 emissions than the entire global aviation industry, while hundreds of millions of families suffer the health impacts of smoky kitchens.

    Ratings agencies will play a vital role in birthing this new market of integrity. There are now multiple “A” rated cookstove projects, delivering real provable impact, while lowering costs and improving health.

    Koko could have been one of those. Instead it will be remembered for two things: the company that tried to pull off another great carbon heist, and the bravery of the Government of Kenya regulators who stood up for the integrity of their market.

    Anything else is just hot air and victim blaming.

    The above images and data are all taken from publicly available information, mostly by Koko to Gold Standard; will happily update or amend if/when better information is available.

    The author has eight years’ experience in the clean cookstove sector, most recently with EcoSafi, with a focus on carbon credit integrity. The author is no longer affiliated with the company, and the views expressed are personal, offered in the public interest to support informed debate on carbon finance for cookstoves.

  • Nowhere To Hide: KRA Reinstates ‘Nil Returns’ After System Upgrade To Nab Tax Cheats

    Nowhere To Hide: KRA Reinstates ‘Nil Returns’ After System Upgrade To Nab Tax Cheats

    Tax evaders who have been living large while declaring zero income now face an electronic dragnet as the Kenya Revenue Authority brings back nil return filing with teeth-baring validation checks designed to catch every Prado-driving, Dubai-jetting fraudster who claims to earn nothing.

    The taxman announced Friday that nil returns are back, but with a deadly twist. Starting April 1, 2026, when Kenyans file their 2025 income tax returns, a sophisticated artificial intelligence system will cross-check every declaration against a web of third-party data sources that knows what you drive, where you shop, how much M-Pesa flows through your phone, and whether you’ve been importing luxury goods while crying poverty to the taxman.

    The move ends weeks of anxiety after KRA shocked taxpayers in January by temporarily suspending nil filing altogether, sending small businesses and genuine unemployed youth into panic about penalties and compliance certificates. But the taxman wasn’t backing down. It was sharpening its knives.

    “The Nil Filing Return option has been reinstated after the necessary system validations were embedded for the 2025 returns to be filed after March 31, 2026,” KRA’s Business Strategy, Technology and Enterprise Modernisation Department announced, signaling the end of the free lunch for Kenya’s shadow economy.

    For 2024 returns and earlier periods, taxpayers can still file as before. But come the June 30 deadline for 2025 income year returns, every nil declaration will pass through what KRA officials privately call “the gauntlet,” a system designed to separate genuine zero-earners from the tenderpreneurs and consultants who’ve been gaming the system for years.

    The crackdown comes after KRA caught a staggering 392,162 taxpayers red-handed. These individuals had taxes withheld from their earnings in 2024, proof positive they earned money, yet brazenly declared nil income when filing their returns. The discovery exposed a massive loophole that has cost the country billions in lost revenue.

    Commissioner for Micro and Small Taxpayers George Obell laid bare the scale of the fraud in a January interview that sent shockwaves through tax circles. “When we check the system, we can see that these taxpayers still had transactions in 2024, yet they filed nil returns,” he said, his frustration evident.

    The most common scam involves a fundamental misunderstanding, or willful ignorance, about withholding tax. Many professionals earning fees for consultancy, management services, or contract work believe the 5.0 percent or 3.0 percent tax deducted at source is final. It is not.

    “That is not correct. It is an advance tax,” Obell emphasized, destroying the favorite excuse of thousands who thought they’d found a permanent escape hatch.

    Now, KRA is turning that misconception into a weapon. Starting this filing season, the taxman will prepopulate income tax returns with every shilling it knows you earned, pulling data from withholding tax certificates, electronic invoices, bank transactions, mobile money flows, customs records, and even vehicle registration data from the National Transport and Safety Authority.

    “This time, when we say we are prepopulating returns, that income will already have been captured by the time the taxpayer is seeing the return, and one will not be able to avoid it. Because we already have visibility of the 5.0 percent, we know what the total income is,” Obell warned.

    The message is chilling: you cannot hide what KRA already knows.

    The electronic Tax Invoice Management System, or eTIMS, sits at the heart of this revolution. Every transaction at supermarkets, service providers, import clearances, even the corner shop, is now logged and linked to your PIN. If your spending exceeds your declared income, the system flags you automatically for audit.

    Integration with Customs and Immigration means KRA can see if you cleared a Range Rover or flew business class to London. Mobile money platforms like M-Pesa provide real-time data showing the velocity of cash through your accounts. If money is moving, KRA knows about it.

    Critics warned the suspension of nil filing in January unfairly targeted genuine unemployed youth and struggling small businesses. A recent graduate in Githurai with truly zero income feared being trapped between compliance requirements and a system that assumed everyone was cheating.

    KRA insists it has balanced concerns. No penalties will apply during the transition, and simplified digital tools launching in February will let genuine nil-filers comply with a single click. But the authority makes no apologies for hunting down the wealthy who masquerade as paupers.

    “We will also communicate to taxpayers who choose, despite having been shown income on their prepopulated returns, not to come forward and engage the authority. That in itself will be an invitation to look not just at 2025 but also preceding years,” Obell warned, making clear that defiance invites deeper scrutiny stretching back years.

    The stakes are enormous. Out of Kenya’s 8 million registered taxpayers, only 4 million actually pay tax. The burden falls disproportionately on salaried workers who have PAYE deducted automatically, while the shadow economy thrives. Micro and small businesses contribute just 14 percent of domestic tax collections, despite dominating the economy.

    KRA Deputy Commissioner Patience Njau made the authority’s intent crystal clear in January. “This year, our focus will be very different as we aim to convert the nil and non-filers and zero payers into paying taxpayers,” she declared, signaling that 2026 marks a turning point.

    The Income and Expenditure Verification programme, which launched January 1, pulls data from multiple sources simultaneously. It compares declared income against eTIMS invoices, withholding tax certificates, import documentation, and bank records in real time. Any mismatch triggers immediate review.

    Tax experts warn that this represents a fundamental shift in Kenya’s compliance landscape. Where taxpayers once filed summary returns that KRA might audit later, the system now validates continuously and automatically at the point of filing. There is no grace period for “post-filing explanations.”

    For those tempted to test the system, the consequences are severe. Upward tax adjustments, penalties accumulating at 1 percent monthly interest, and possible denial of the Tax Compliance Certificate that unlocks everything from government tenders to bank loans await the defiant.

    Legal observers have questioned whether KRA’s temporary suspension of nil filing in January exceeded its statutory authority. Tax lawyer Ogun Owino argued the move violated principles of legality, noting that the Tax Procedures Act gives no discretion to suspend due dates administratively.

    “It is irrational to take an administrative decision that undermines a written law without public participation. That amounts to a fiat and flies in the face of principles of legality and common sense,” he wrote, accusing KRA of creating uncertainty when traders need compliance certificates to unlock payments, secure tenders, or meet statutory requirements.

    KRA has ignored such criticism, betting that the judiciary will back efforts to expand the tax base when the alternative is fiscal collapse. The government, constrained by massive debt and a shrinking borrowing window after the 2024 protests, desperately needs every tax shilling it can collect.

    The authority has urged taxpayers to verify their PINs on iTax and ensure accuracy as the system increasingly relies on consolidated data streams. Failure to update information could mean your legitimate expenses get disallowed or innocent transactions get flagged.

    For Kenya’s tenderpreneurs, consultants, and freelancers who have thrived in the grey zone between formal employment and complete informality, the message from Times Tower is unambiguous. Big Brother is watching, he knows what you earn, and come June 30, there will be nowhere to hide.

    The filing deadline remains June 30, 2026, for all individual taxpayers. Late filing attracts a Ksh2,000 penalty, or 5 percent of tax due, whichever is higher. Late payment accrues interest at 1 percent monthly.

    KRA’s citizen assembly initiatives and plans to recruit 10,000 tax agents across the country suggest the authority is playing a long game. Build compliance culture early, make the system simpler for genuine users, and hunt down the cheats with technological precision.

    Whether this strategy will finally level the playing field between salaried workers and the shadow economy remains to be seen. What is certain is that 2026 marks the year tax compliance in Kenya went digital, automated, and unforgiving.

    For hundreds of thousands of Kenyans who thought nil returns were a permanent shield against taxation, that shield just developed gaping holes. The taxman cometh, and this time, he’s armed with algorithms.

  • Crypto Firm Accidentally Sends $44 Billion in Bitcoins To Users

    Crypto Firm Accidentally Sends $44 Billion in Bitcoins To Users

    South Korean cryptocurrency exchange Bithumb said on Saturday it had accidentally given away more than $40 billion worth of bitcoins to customers as promotional rewards, triggering a sharp selloff on the exchange.

    Bithumb apologised for the mistake, which took place on Friday, and said it had recovered 99.7 percent of the 620,000 bitcoins, worth about $44 billion at current prices. It had restricted trading and withdrawals for the 695 affected customers within 35 minutes of the erroneous distribution on Friday.

    The exchange had planned to distribute small cash rewards of 2,000 Korean won ($1.37) or more to each user as part of a promotional event, but winners received at least 2,000 bitcoins each instead, media reports said.

    “We would like to make it clear that this incident is unrelated to external hacking or security breaches, and there are no problems with system security or customer asset management,” Bithumb said in a statement.

    Bitcoin prices briefly slumped 17 percent to 81.1 million won on Friday evening on Bithumb, charts from the exchange show. It later recovered and last traded at 104.5 million won.

    Bithumb trails Upbit, a dominant player in the South Korean crypto space.

  • Blow to Equity Bank CEO James Mwangi as Court Refuses to Stay Execution of Sh1 Billion Muthaiga Mansion Eviction

    Blow to Equity Bank CEO James Mwangi as Court Refuses to Stay Execution of Sh1 Billion Muthaiga Mansion Eviction

    Equity Bank Group Chief Executive James Mwangi suffered a devastating blow yesterday when the Court of Appeal declined to halt the execution of a judgment ordering him out of his sprawling Sh1 billion Muthaiga mansion, instead directing him to deposit Sh10 million as security while his appeal proceeds.

    In a ruling that has sent shockwaves through Kenya’s business elite, Justices Daniel Musinga, Patrick Kiage and Agrey Muchelule refused to grant the banking titan’s desperate bid to stop enforcement of the Environment and Land Court judgment that found him occupying another man’s property.

    The appellate judges ordered Mwangi and his wife Jane Wangui Mundia to deposit the Sh10 million in an interest-bearing joint account within 60 days, with strict instructions that the status quo over the contested three-acre property be maintained pending the hearing of their appeal.

    But the humiliation for one of Kenya’s most powerful executives runs deeper. Court documents filed on January 7 this year reveal that Mount Pleasant Limited has already executed the lower court’s eviction order under the supervision of Gigiri police, effectively seizing possession of the property from under Mwangi’s feet.

    “The above court order has been executed today the 07/01/2026 under supervision of the OCS Gigiri and now the plaintiff Mount Pleasant Ltd has now gained possession of the property,” reads the damning document signed by Gigiri police boss and filed in court.

    The development marks a spectacular fall from grace for Mwangi, whose rags-to-riches story has made him a poster child for African entrepreneurship. The CEO now faces the ignominy of having been physically removed from a property he claimed to have bought from former President Daniel arap Moi for Sh306 million in 2013.

    The drama surrounding the Muthaiga property has exposed a murky tale of contested ownership, missing files at the Ministry of Lands, duplicate titles and allegations of tampering with land registry records that paint an unflattering picture of how Kenya’s wealthy acquire prime real estate.

    At the heart of the dispute lies businessman Anverali Amershi Karmali, who through his firm Mount Pleasant Limited insists he purchased the property from Moi-era Finance Minister Arthur Magugu and his wife Margaret Wairimu in July 2006 for Sh130 million, a full seven years before Mwangi claimed to have acquired it from Moi.

    Justice Oscar Angote of the Environment and Land Court delivered the crushing October 2025 judgment that ordered Mwangi and his wife to vacate within 30 days or face forcible eviction by police from Gigiri and Muthaiga stations.

    The judge went further, slapping the couple with a Sh10 million damages award for trespass, taking into account the property’s premium location, its three-acre size, the duration of the alleged trespass spanning several years and its current valuation of Sh1 billion according to 2022 reports.

    Justice Angote also ordered the Chief Land Registrar to expunge and cancel all entries, conveyances and titles relating to Mwangi’s purported ownership and to nullify the amalgamation of the subdivided parcels into a single title, effectively erasing any record of the banker’s claim to the property.

    The court found that while Mwangi claimed to have taken possession immediately after receiving his title in 2013, Mount Pleasant’s security guards had remained on the property from 2013 until March 2020, when they were allegedly evicted by the Mwangis.

    Justice Angote noted that although the Directorate of Criminal Investigations had not made any conclusive forensic determination on claims of forgery, the documentary evidence revealed significant anomalies when assessed on the balance of probabilities.

    “While the court stops short of finding fraud attributable to Mwangi and his wife to the requisite standard of proof, it nonetheless holds that the numerous procedural and documentary irregularities surrounding the conveyance, amalgamation and registration of their title would, on their own, suffice to impeach it,” the judge ruled.

    Court documents paint a picture of a property saga riddled with irregularities stretching back nearly two decades. Magugu had initially charged the property to National Bank in the late 1980s through MDC Holdings Limited to secure a Sh10.5 million loan. When the company defaulted, the bank sued to recover its money, eventually striking a deal in October 2002 where the property would be sold for Sh90 million to settle the debt and compensate Magugu.

    Karmali alleges that after he purchased the property in good faith, someone began tampering with land registry records, making it difficult to trace the chain of ownership. When he went to the Ministry of Lands to conduct a search, the file containing the property’s history had mysteriously vanished.

    The situation descended into open warfare in June 2020 when Mwangi allegedly showed up at the property accompanied by police officers who removed Karmali’s security guards and replaced them with their own, prompting the businessman to rush to court.

    Karmali claims he was shocked to discover that both parties had obtained certificates from the land registry showing they were the registered owners of the same property, raising serious questions about the integrity of Kenya’s land registration system.

    For Mwangi, whose leadership has transformed Equity Bank from a struggling building society into a regional banking powerhouse, this legal defeat represents an embarrassing personal setback. The CEO, who has cultivated an image of financial prudence and ethical business practices, now faces uncomfortable questions about how he came to occupy a property with such a contested ownership history.

    The Court of Appeal has directed that the appeal be fast-tracked, ordering the parties to attend a case management conference within 30 days and to file written submissions ahead of the hearing.

    Until then, Mwangi must comply with the Sh10 million security order and watch from the sidelines as Mount Pleasant Limited enjoys quiet possession of the contested Muthaiga estate, a bitter pill for a man who has spent decades building an empire on the back of microfinance only to find himself on the wrong side of a property dispute that has laid bare the chaos in Kenya’s land ownership system.

  • Passaris Ex-Husband Pius Ngugi Faces Arrest Over Sh4.2 Million Debt

    Passaris Ex-Husband Pius Ngugi Faces Arrest Over Sh4.2 Million Debt

    The hunter has become the hunted. Billionaire businessman Pius Mbugua Ngugi, the macadamia mogul and estranged husband of Nairobi Woman Representative Esther Passaris, is now a wanted man after a Nakuru court issued a warrant for his arrest over an unpaid legal bill amounting to Sh4.2 million.

    The man who controls a tenth of the world’s macadamia market and whose business empire spans from nut processing to coffee mills, insurance to real estate, is currently on the run from police who have been camping outside his Loita Street offices at the iconic Volvo House in Nairobi’s CBD.

    Sources privy to the dramatic turn of events reveal that officers from Central Police Station were left frustrated after failing to nab the 81-year-old tycoon despite knowing he was within the premises. In a cat and mouse game reminiscent of a Nollywood thriller, Ngugi managed to slip through the police dragnet, leaving the law enforcers empty-handed.

    The Environment and Land Court in Nakuru has given police officers carte blanche to pursue Ngugi to all his known residences and business premises, both in Nairobi and upcountry.

    The warrant, dated January 29, 2026, even provides for travel expenses, with officers entitled to bus or railway fare, or Sh1 per mile if they use motor vehicles, plus out-of-pocket expenses.

    At the heart of this high-stakes drama is a debt owed to law firm Githogori & Harisson Associates. Court documents indicate that Ngugi owes the legal practice Sh3.7 million as the principal sum, Sh475,948 in accrued interest, plus court collection fees of Sh5,500 and Sh1,500.

    It is the kind of money that would be pocket change for a man of Ngugi’s stature, yet here we are.

    Harrison Musyoka, an advocate at the law firm, has been pushing hard for action. In a letter dated February 4, 2026, and addressed to the Central Police Station OCS, Musyoka emphasized the urgency of the matter. The case is scheduled for directions today, February 5, when the court expects an update on progress made in executing the arrest orders. The OCS received the warrant only yesterday, adding pressure to what is already a ticking clock.

    For Passaris, this latest scandal involving her husband must feel like déjà vu. The Nairobi Woman Rep has never shied away from admitting that her polygamous marriage to Ngugi has been anything but smooth sailing. In a candid 2016 interview, she confessed that while she never planned to be in such an arrangement, she has learned to accept it. The couple shares two children, Makenna and Lefteris, though Ngugi also has four other children with his first wife, Josephine Wambui Ngugi.

    Their relationship has been tabloid fodder for years. In 2003, Passaris dragged Ngugi to court, claiming he had breached a promise to marry her after they had lived as man and wife since 1992. Then in 2014, another woman, Lynette Lucy Buddery, sued him for failing to pay their daughter’s school fees on time. The man clearly has a complicated personal life.

    But Ngugi’s troubles extend beyond domestic disputes. His Kenya Nut Company, the crown jewel of his empire established in 1974, has had its own brushes with the law. In 2020, the Court of Appeal ordered the company to pay the Kenya Revenue Authority Sh33.5 million in withholding tax from commissions paid to overseas agents between 2002 and 2005. The judges didn’t mince words, stating that entering contracts allowing foreign agents to deduct commissions without mechanisms for withholding tax was “not only reckless” but “intended to deny the country revenue.”

    Now, as police continue their manhunt, questions swirl. How does a billionaire with interests in Thika Coffee Mills, Kenya Alliance Insurance, Tatu City, sweet manufacturing, dairy farming, wineries, and real estate find himself dodging arrest over what amounts to legal fees? For a man whose Out of Africa nuts, Nassu Snacks, Aberdare Tea, and Leleshwa Wines grace supermarket shelves across the country, this is an embarrassing fall from grace.

    The irony is not lost on those who have watched Ngugi’s journey from a young coffee farmer in Kiambu to one of Kenya’s most successful agribusiness tycoons. In 1972, when coffee prices plummeted, he pivoted to macadamia farming, foreseeing the nut’s global potential. With government support and Japanese investors, he built a processing empire that today employs over 4,000 people and manages farms covering more than 8,000 acres.

    Yet here he is, a fugitive over a debt that represents a fraction of his vast wealth. The man who once kept such a low profile that Kenyans only saw his face in a 1995 Kenya Newsreel broadcast before the screening of Crimson Tide is now headline news for all the wrong reasons.

    As the court date looms, one thing is certain: Pius Ngugi cannot run forever. Whether he settles the debt or continues playing hide and seek with the boys in blue, this chapter of his storied life will not be forgotten anytime soon. For Passaris, who has weathered many storms with her billionaire husband, this is yet another test of their complicated union.

    The streets are watching, and the law is closing in. Will the macadamia king finally face the music, or does he have another trick up his sleeve? Only time will tell.

  • How Rogue Kenyan Developers Scam Unsuspecting Diaspora Homebuyers Out of Millions

    How Rogue Kenyan Developers Scam Unsuspecting Diaspora Homebuyers Out of Millions

    The dream of owning a home in Kenya has turned into a living nightmare for hundreds of diaspora investors who have lost millions of shillings to ruthless property developers operating elaborate fraud schemes that would make even the most seasoned con artists blush.

    From the dusty outskirts of Malaa to the sprawling suburbs of Ruiru and the coastal paradise of Mombasa, a sinister web of deceit has trapped Kenyans living abroad, many of whom have pumped their life savings into what they believed were legitimate real estate investments, only to discover they have been sold air.

    The scale of the fraud is staggering. Josphat Ndambo, a Kenyan based in the United States, parted with a eye-watering Sh4.25 million in November 2021 after being seduced by a slick YouTube video promoting Asali Estate in Malaa.

    The video, featuring pristine artistic impressions of three-bedroom maisonettes set against the majestic backdrop of Mount Kilimambogo, was nothing more than digital wizardry designed to separate desperate homebuyers from their hard-earned cash.

    Two years later, Ndambo’s dream property remains a fantasy.

    The site in Malaa tells a heartbreaking story of abandonment and despair. There is no electricity, no infrastructure, just dilapidated foundations and the shattered hopes of investors who trusted the wrong people.

    The mastermind behind Asali Estate, George Mburu, cut his teeth at the now-collapsed Banda Homes Limited before launching Mizizi Africa Homes Limited.

    Operating from a plush office opposite Sarit Centre in Westlands, Mburu has mastered the art of living large while his clients languish in financial ruin. In a brazen interview with a popular YouTuber, the former wannabe hip-hop artist boasted about eating life with a big spoon, flaunting his Range Rover, and dismissing critics as mere detractors.

    While Mburu lives the high life, Dennis Mwangi, another victim, is fighting a legal battle to recover Sh4.537 million he paid for a phantom three-bedroom bungalow at Peacock Estate along Kenyatta Road. Despite winning an arbitration settlement in June 2024 that ordered a refund within 60 days, Mwangi has not seen a single shilling. The Peacock Estate site mirrors the desolation of Asali Estate, with only incomplete, abandoned units standing as monuments to broken promises.

    The fraud extends far beyond Mizizi Africa Homes. Across town, Willstone Homes Limited has ensnared US-based investor Mellen Bwari Okari in a Sh57 million nightmare. Okari purchased five maisonettes in an off-plan development called White Park Gardens through her company, Universal DoubleTree Hotel Limited. What she discovered during a site visit sent chills down her spine.

    Not only was the construction marred by shoddy workmanship, but a private investigator uncovered an even more sinister revelation. The property was not even located where the sales agreement claimed. Instead of being in Ruai East, Nairobi County, the land was actually in Mavoko, Machakos County. Worse still, the land registration numbers provided in the sale agreement were completely fabricated. The title Block 3/90489 referenced in all documents simply did not exist.

    The three directors of Willstone Homes Limited, Ejidio Kinyajui, Patrick Thuo Marigi, and Victor Muusya Cosmus, have already moved on to their next venture, registering Ubuni Investments from the same Park Suites office in Westlands. Like Mburu, Kinyajui enjoys broadcasting his lavish lifestyle on social media, posting videos of himself flying first class on Emirates, chartering helicopters, and driving luxury vehicles. A single first-class Emirates ticket can cost between Sh1.5 million and Sh2.5 million, yet somehow his clients cannot get their money back.

    Perhaps no one epitomizes the audacity of these scammers better than David Mureithi Kanyi, the reclusive businessman behind Kenya Projects. Kanyi perfected a diabolical strategy targeting community-based organizations and offering down payments so low they seemed too good to be true. They were.

    George Gitonga learned this lesson the hard way. Five years ago, he stumbled upon a Facebook advertisement for houses in Kamakis. He liquidated his children’s education policy, which had just matured with a Sh2 million payout, and even sold his car to raise an additional Sh900,000. The total Sh2.9 million was supposed to secure a two-bedroom maisonette. Instead, Gitonga joined 36 other victims who were eventually forced to complete construction using their own funds. Even after finishing the houses themselves, the buyers remain in limbo because Kanyi has refused to provide title deeds.

    Kanyi, who has since relocated to Mombasa and continues rebranding his operations, deployed similar tactics on the coast. Eva Mmbone Kiti, Nana Mohammed, Faud Ali Ahmed, and Nana Khadija Omar wired Sh13 million for three-bedroom maisonettes at Royal Palm Villas. They later discovered that Kanyi had taken out a Sh55 million bank loan against the same property they had purchased, effectively double-dealing on their investment.

    The modus operandi of these fraudsters follows a chillingly consistent pattern. First, they create legitimate-looking companies with professional offices in upscale Nairobi neighborhoods. Then they produce slick marketing materials, complete with doctored images and falsified land registration numbers. They target diaspora investors specifically because distance makes due diligence nearly impossible. Many victims are working multiple jobs abroad to send money home and cannot afford frequent trips to Kenya to physically inspect their investments.

    The developers exploit the off-plan model, where buyers pay for properties before construction is complete. This arrangement, poorly regulated in Kenya, has become a breeding ground for fraud. Developers collect millions in down payments, begin minimal construction to create the illusion of progress, then either abandon projects entirely or use new investor funds to partially complete old projects in a classic Ponzi scheme structure.

    To add insult to injury, many of these developers sponsor fake awards and recognition ceremonies designed to create an aura of legitimacy. They then hire social media influencers to promote their projects as critically acclaimed and trustworthy. The entire ecosystem is rotten from top to bottom.

    Some fraudsters have become even more creative. They identify prime land, approach the owners, and propose subdividing and selling parcels on their behalf. The developers convince landowners that an escrow account is unnecessary, promising to remit sale proceeds minus commission directly. After collecting money from buyers, the developers vanish without paying the landowners. The result is a double fraud where both the original landowner and the buyers are victims, and neither party can legally transfer ownership.

    Legislative attempts to address this crisis have stalled. Kirinyaga Central MP Joseph Gitari proposed a Land Amendment Bill requiring land-selling companies to deposit Sh500 million as a licensing fee before registration. The deposit would serve as insurance to refund victims when developers fail to deliver. However, the bill has languished in parliament with little hope of passage.

    Two years ago, industry players formed the Association of Real Estate Stakeholders in a supposed effort to self-regulate and discipline rogue operators. The initiative has been a spectacular failure. Many of the association’s own members have been implicated in fraudulent schemes. When contacted for comment on members embroiled in legal disputes, RESA chairman Chrispus Wachira did not respond.

    The psychological toll on victims cannot be quantified. These are not wealthy speculators gambling with disposable income. They are teachers, nurses, drivers, and security guards working grueling hours in foreign countries, denying themselves basic comforts so they can send money home to build a future. They dream of retiring in dignity, of having something to show their children, of finally coming home. Instead, they are left with worthless paperwork and crushing debt.

    The impunity with which these developers operate is shocking. Despite mounting court cases and public exposure, most continue their businesses unabated. Mburu still runs Mizizi Africa Homes. Kinyajui and his partners have simply rebranded as Ubuni Investments. Kanyi operates from Mombasa under new company names. None have faced serious criminal prosecution.

    Industry experts point to systemic failures enabling this fraud. The lack of mandatory escrow accounts means developers control all funds with zero accountability. Weak enforcement of construction regulations allows substandard work to proceed unchecked. The National Construction Authority and National Environmental Management Authority approvals are routinely bypassed. Land registry records can be easily forged or manipulated. There is no central database to track developers’ histories or warn potential buyers about problematic companies.

    Financial institutions also bear some responsibility. Banks readily provide mortgages and loans against properties with questionable documentation. They fail to conduct adequate due diligence before financing these projects, effectively legitimizing fraudulent schemes.

    For diaspora Kenyans, the home-buying process has become a minefield. Trust has evaporated. Even legitimate developers now struggle to attract clients because the market has been poisoned by serial fraudsters. The economic impact extends beyond individual losses. When billions of shillings meant for productive investment vanish into the pockets of con artists, the entire economy suffers.

    Some victims have attempted to salvage their investments by pooling resources and completing projects themselves, but this solution only works when the land title is genuine and accessible. In cases where registration numbers are fabricated or properties are encumbered by secret loans, there is no path forward.

    The courts offer little relief. Legal battles drag on for years, draining victims of additional resources for attorney fees and court costs. Even when judgments are rendered in favor of plaintiffs, enforcement remains nearly impossible. Developers simply close one company and open another, moving assets between entities to stay one step ahead of creditors.

    As more cases come to light, a disturbing picture emerges of an industry riddled with corruption at every level. From complicit officials who process fraudulent documents to real estate agents who knowingly market phantom properties, the rot runs deep. Until Kenya implements comprehensive reforms including mandatory escrow accounts, stricter licensing requirements, criminal penalties for developers who defraud buyers, and a centralized registry of industry players with transparent track records, the carnage will continue.

    For now, thousands of Kenyans abroad are left to count their losses and warn others about the treacherous landscape of Kenyan real estate. Their stories serve as cautionary tales about dreams deferred and trust betrayed. The con artists, meanwhile, continue their operations with brazen confidence, knowing that the system designed to protect citizens has instead become their accomplice.

    The question is no longer whether reform will come, but whether it will arrive in time to save the next generation of victims from the same fate.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

  • Del Monte’s Billion-Shilling Tax Dodge Exposed: How Foreign Giants Are Bleeding Kenya Dry

    Del Monte’s Billion-Shilling Tax Dodge Exposed: How Foreign Giants Are Bleeding Kenya Dry

    Multinational pineapple producer caught red-handed siphoning profits offshore while ordinary Kenyans shoulder crippling tax burden

    The veil has been lifted on one of Kenya’s most brazen corporate tax scandals, with Del Monte Kenya now facing a KSh1.76 billion bill after a tribunal exposed how the multinational used shadowy offshore deals to rob the country of desperately needed public funds.

    In a damning ruling that has sent shockwaves through Kenya’s corporate sector, the Tax Appeals Tribunal dismissed Del Monte’s appeal and upheld the Kenya Revenue Authority’s assessment, confirming what ordinary Kenyans have long suspected: some of the country’s biggest and most profitable companies are systematically cheating the tax system while workers and small businesses are squeezed to breaking point.

    The case centers on transfer pricing, a complex financial maneuver that allows multinationals to manipulate the prices they charge their own foreign subsidiaries, artificially slashing their Kenyan profits and shifting billions to tax havens where rates are lower or non-existent.

    KRA’s 2018 audit uncovered that Del Monte was using a cost-plus pricing model that grossly undervalued its Kenyan operations while funneling inflated profits to related companies abroad, particularly its Swiss affiliate DMI GmbH. The tribunal found the pineapple giant could not justify why it was earning modest returns in Kenya, where all the real work happens, while its offshore entities raked in the profits.

    “The tribunal found that the pineapple giant could not justify why it was shifting profits to offshore companies when the real value of the business is created in Kenya,” the ruling stated, laying bare the mechanics of corporate tax abuse.

    Del Monte had argued it was simply following a standard cost-plus approach, applying a meager 4.83 percent markup to its costs when selling to its Swiss sister company. The firm insisted this was fair compensation for its role as a manufacturer supplying a related distributor.

    But the tribunal was having none of it. Judges ruled that Del Monte’s documentation failed to reflect the economic reality of its massive Kenyan operations. The company could not explain why the Kenyan business, which does all the planting, harvesting, processing and initial distribution, should earn only a pittance while foreign affiliates that simply handle onwards sales captured the lion’s share of profits.

    The ruling also exposed Del Monte’s attempts to obscure its corporate structure. The company claimed a multi-billion shilling intercompany loan came from Del Monte Fund B.V., owned by its ultimate parent in the Cayman Islands, a notorious tax haven. But KRA presented registry records proving the lending entity was actually wholly owned by the Swiss affiliate, a finding Del Monte could not refute with official documentation.

    The KSh1.76 billion that Del Monte sought to avoid paying could have transformed lives across Kenya. According to the Kenya Human Rights Commission, which welcomed the tribunal’s decision, that money could build 1,760 public school classrooms, construct eight fully equipped county hospitals, tarmac 29 kilometers of road, employ over 3,500 nurses or teachers for a year, or fund multiple rural water projects.

    Instead, while Del Monte contested billions in taxes through expensive legal battles, ordinary Kenyans were being told to tighten their belts, accept higher VAT on basic goods, and pay new levies on essential services.

    The Kenya Human Rights Commission pulled no punches in its response, accusing Del Monte and other multinationals of looting what rightfully belongs to Kenyan citizens.

    “For years, ordinary Kenyans have been told to tighten their belts, pay more VAT, and accept new levies on basic goods and services. However, some of the country’s largest and most profitable corporations, like Del Monte, continue to aggressively contest paying billions in taxes. This is unjust and unacceptable,” the commission said in a scathing press statement.

    The rights body warned that corporate tax evasion weakens the state’s ability to deliver basic services and shifts the tax burden onto workers, small businesses and low-income households. When multinationals dodge taxes, children sit in overcrowded classrooms, patients go without medicine, and communities lack clean water.

    KHRC revealed it is now examining other corporations, focusing on the land they occupy, the terms of their leases, and what they actually pay in land rates and taxes. Early findings suggest the scale of revenue loss will shock many Kenyans, especially at a time when households are strained by PAYE, VAT and rising levies on basic necessities.

    The commission is demanding sweeping reforms to stop multinationals from bleeding the country dry. It wants all foreign corporations operating in Kenya to publicly disclose their revenues, profits, taxes paid, number of employees and assets for each country where they operate. It is calling for a dedicated, well-resourced program for annual transfer pricing audits targeting high-risk sectors like agribusiness, extractives, manufacturing, energy and digital services.

    Where aggressive tax avoidance is proven, KHRC insists penalties must go beyond mere recovery of tax and interest to include heavy punitive fines and possible criminal investigations. The commission wants strict restrictions on the deductibility of management fees, marketing fees, royalties and interest on related-party loans unless companies can demonstrate clear economic substance.

    It is also demanding publication of an annual list of the largest corporate taxpayers and companies with major unresolved tax disputes, joint work with the Ministry of Lands to establish a public register linking large landholdings to tax records, and active challenges to treaty shopping and artificial routing of payments through low-tax jurisdictions.

    Most provocatively, KHRC wants companies with histories of aggressive tax avoidance barred from receiving tax incentives, accessing public procurement or benefiting from any form of state support.

    The Del Monte case is not an isolated incident but part of a broader pattern. KHRC’s 2025 publication “Who Owns Kenya?” revealed how corporate tax abuse fuels inequality and leaves essential public services underfunded. The report showed that while multinationals employ armies of accountants and lawyers to minimize their tax bills, schools crumble, hospitals run out of drugs, and roads remain impassable.

    Tax justice campaigners say Kenya loses billions annually to profit shifting by multinationals. A 2024 study estimated that African countries collectively lose around $88.6 billion per year to illicit financial flows, with transfer pricing abuse being a major component. Kenya is believed to lose between $1.1 billion and $1.5 billion annually, though the true figure may be higher given the opacity of multinational operations.

    The global context makes Kenya’s predicament even more galling. Multinationals operating in Africa often pay far lower effective tax rates than their statutory obligations would suggest, using intricate structures involving subsidiaries in places like Mauritius, the Netherlands, Switzerland and the Cayman Islands to minimize their African tax footprint.

    Del Monte Kenya has not publicly commented on the tribunal ruling or indicated whether it will seek further appeals. The company’s managing director Wayne Cook has previously defended the firm’s tax practices as compliant with Kenyan law.

    But the tribunal’s decision suggests that era may be ending. Tax authorities worldwide are cracking down on transfer pricing abuses, and Kenya appears determined to claim its fair share of the wealth generated on its soil.

    For the millions of Kenyans struggling with the rising cost of living, the Del Monte case crystallizes a profound injustice. While they pay tax on every shilling they earn and every item they buy, some of the wealthiest corporations doing business in Kenya deploy sophisticated schemes to avoid contributing their fair share to the country that provides their workers, their infrastructure, their markets and ultimately their profits.

    The question now is whether the Del Monte ruling marks a turning point or remains an isolated victory in a long war against corporate tax abuse. With KHRC and other civil society organizations now turning their spotlight on other multinationals, and with KRA apparently emboldened by its tribunal win, more corporate tax scandals may soon come to light.

    What is certain is that ordinary Kenyans are watching, and they are running out of patience with a system that squeezes the poor while allowing the powerful to game the rules. The Del Monte case has proven that when authorities have the will to act, corporate tax dodgers can be held to account. Now Kenyans want to see that will applied across the board, to every multinational that treats Kenya as a place to extract wealth rather than a country deserving of fair contribution to the common good.

    The KSh1.76 billion Del Monte must now pay is not just a number on a balance sheet. It represents classrooms that can be built, hospitals that can be equipped, roads that can be paved, and services that can be delivered. It represents a small measure of justice in a system that has for too long favored corporate interests over the public good.

    As the tribunal put it bluntly: multinationals cannot use paperwork to export profits when the actual work, risks and value addition happen on Kenyan soil. That principle, if consistently enforced, could transform Kenya’s fiscal landscape and ensure that those who profit from Kenya also contribute to Kenya’s development.

    The battle is far from over, but for once, the people of Kenya can claim a victory.

  • KRA Can Now Tax Unexplained Bank Deposits

    KRA Can Now Tax Unexplained Bank Deposits

    Kenyans with unexplained money flowing into their bank accounts and mobile money wallets now face the prospect of paying tax on these deposits after the Tax Appeals Tribunal handed the Kenya Revenue Authority fresh powers to treat undocumented cash as taxable income.

    In a landmark ruling that signals a major shift in how the taxman pursues revenue, the tribunal has determined that the burden of proof lies squarely with account holders to demonstrate that their deposits are not income. The decision effectively reverses the traditional approach where KRA had to prove that money was taxable before demanding payment.

    The ruling emerged from a dispute between KRA and Virginia Wangari, a Naivasha hotel businesswoman, whom the authority assessed for Sh6.5 million in taxes after discovering Sh52.6 million in unexplained bank and M-Pesa deposits between 2018 and 2022. After adjusting for supported non-income items, KRA treated net deposits of Sh50.9 million as taxable income and applied an industry profit margin of 18.49 percent for the hospitality sector.

    Wangari challenged the assessment, arguing that KRA had wrongly assumed all deposits were income, ignored her explanations, applied an arbitrary margin, and subjected her to double taxation. However, the tribunal dismissed her appeal, holding that tax assessments by the Commissioner enjoy a presumption of correctness until rebutted by documentary evidence.

    The tribunal emphasized that taxpayers must produce bank reconciliations, source documents, ledgers, or contracts to show that funds were capital injections, loans, or agency collections. General explanations without supporting documentation, the panel ruled, do not displace tax liability.

    Tax experts say the ruling represents a significant escalation in KRA’s enforcement powers and places millions of Kenyans at risk of unexpected tax bills if they cannot adequately document the sources of their income. The decision comes at a time when President William Ruto’s administration has intensified its crackdown on tax evasion to boost revenue collection without imposing new taxes following the deadly anti-tax protests of 2024 that claimed over 50 lives.

    The ruling builds on another controversial case involving Kirin Pipes Limited, where the tribunal upheld a Sh21.6 million tax assessment after the company failed to prove that deposits into its accounts between 2019 and 2022 were loans or shareholder capital rather than undeclared sales revenue. KRA had initially assessed the pipe manufacturer for Sh34.3 million in income tax and Sh22.6 million in VAT after its banking analysis revealed unexplained deposits.

    In that case, Kirin Pipes argued that shareholders had injected Sh29.4 million in additional capital, secured a Sh31.6 million loan from Nanchang Municipal Engineering Development, and received Sh24.6 million from shareholders to fund operations. The company also claimed some deposits were advance payments from clients that were later invoiced and declared for tax purposes.

    However, the tribunal found that the company had provided uncertified bank statements and vague SWIFT confirmation slips without corroborating documents such as board resolutions, updated CR12 records showing revised shareholding, or evidence of loan repayment. The loan agreement itself was deemed problematic as it was interest-free, open-ended, and had no repayment timeline.

    Samuel Mwaura, Tax Partner at Grant Thornton Kenya, warns that the rulings signal a new era of aggressive tax enforcement. He predicts an increase in litigation as the authority disallows expenses not supported by electronic tax invoices, even when they represent genuine business costs.

    The legal backing for KRA’s approach comes from Section 3 of the Income Tax Act, which broadly defines income to include business profits, employment earnings, rent, dividends, interest, pensions, and other gains or benefits unless specifically exempted. This means any unexplained deposits, when not backed by proper documentation such as loan agreements or shareholder capital records, fall within the definition of taxable income.

    KRA has clarified that the ruling does not give it blanket powers to tax every deposit made into personal or business accounts. The authority maintains that properly documented funds, such as loan proceeds, shareholder capital, or transfers supported by verifiable records, are not subject to taxation. However, the onus is on taxpayers to provide this documentation when challenged.

    The enforcement push is part of a broader strategy by KRA to leverage technology and data analytics to identify tax evaders. From January 2026, the authority launched an automated digital system that validates income and expenses declared in tax returns against electronic tax invoices, withholding tax records, and import declarations from customs systems.

    This new validation system, integrated into the iTax platform, flags mismatches in income declarations, VAT claims, and withholding tax data in real time. All declared income and expenses must now be supported by valid electronic tax invoices correctly transmitted with the buyer’s PIN, subject to exceptions provided under the Tax Procedures Act.

    The digital crackdown extends beyond bank deposits to target the entire spectrum of business operations. KRA’s enforcement unit has been using various databases to pursue suspected tax cheats, including bank statements, import records, motor vehicle registration details, Kenya Power records, water bills, and data from the Kenya Civil Aviation Authority, which reveals individuals who own assets such as aircraft.

    Car registration details are being used to identify individuals driving high-end vehicles but remitting little in taxes, while Kenya Power meter registrations help the taxman identify landlords who have been slapped with huge tax demands. The authority has also sought details of suppliers and contractors hired by county governments to tighten the noose on individuals and firms evading tax.

    The banking analysis method, treating unexplained deposits as income, is increasingly becoming KRA’s weapon of choice during audits. The tribunal has cited earlier rulings holding that all bank deposits are taxable unless the account holder explains, with evidence, why they should not be taxed.

    For businesses, the implications are profound. Companies that rely on informal suppliers who cannot issue electronic tax invoices face a dilemma. Unless expenses are documented electronically, KRA will assume the money remains in the business’s pocket and treat it as profit subject to tax.

    Consider a small agribusiness that buys fertilizer and seeds from a rural supplier who has no PIN and cannot issue an electronic tax invoice. If the business paid Sh400,000 for these inputs, KRA will automatically treat that amount as profit, even though it was spent on genuine business expenses. Similarly, if a business spent Sh1 million in total but only Sh300,000 has electronic documentation, the remaining Sh700,000 will inflate profits, increasing the company’s tax bill and squeezing cash flow.

    Self-employed professionals, including consultants, advisors, trainers, and freelancers, are among the most exposed under the new regime. KRA is now cross-referencing withholding tax records submitted by clients against annual income tax returns. When a client pays a consultant, they are required to deduct withholding tax at source and remit it directly to KRA. If a consultant files a nil return, under-declares income, or omits consultancy fees already subjected to withholding tax, the system automatically flags the account, triggering audits, penalties, and enforcement actions that may include bank account freezes or asset seizures.

    Tax practitioners advise businesses and individuals to maintain meticulous records of all transactions, including bank reconciliations, source documents, ledgers, contracts, and board resolutions. They recommend setting aside between 25 and 30 percent of earnings for tax obligations to ease cash flow pressure and engaging certified tax professionals to reduce exposure to compliance risks.

    The tribunal rulings come as KRA faces mounting pressure to meet revenue targets amid persistent shortfalls. Official data shows the authority collected Sh2.257 trillion in the year through June 2025, missing its revised target by Sh47.3 billion. This marked the third consecutive annual shortfall, exacerbating fiscal pressure at a time when public debt has surpassed Sh11.5 trillion.

    The expanded enforcement coincides with major restructuring at KRA’s Times Tower headquarters, including recruitment for senior positions such as Deputy Commissioners, as the authority seeks to improve collection, particularly from the informal economy where compliance remains low.

    However, the aggressive push has not been without controversy. Banks initially blocked KRA’s attempt to integrate its system with that of 38 lenders amid fears that the taxman could access sensitive personal information such as cash flows in accounts without adequate safeguards. Bankers expressed concern that KRA could use the integration to access customer information unlawfully, exposing banks to lawsuits and penalties from the data protection watchdog.

    The plan to access sensitive personal data, including details of properties owned and bank accounts as well as cash transfers on mobile phones without a court warrant, was initially included in the Finance Bill 2024 but was scuppered by the withdrawal of the bill following the anti-tax protests.

    Despite these concerns, KRA has forged ahead with its enforcement agenda, determined to widen the tax base and boost revenue collection through technology and data analytics. The authority maintains that its approach is justified under existing law and that taxpayers who maintain proper records have nothing to fear.

    For ordinary Kenyans, the message is clear. Every deposit into a bank account or mobile money wallet must now be accounted for with proper documentation. Failure to do so could result in an unexpected tax bill that presumes the money is income unless proven otherwise. In this new era of digital tax enforcement, the burden of proof has shifted decisively from the taxman to the taxpayer.

  • The Koko Conspiracy: How a Clean Energy Darling Became Kenya’s Biggest Carbon Credit Scandal

    The Koko Conspiracy: How a Clean Energy Darling Became Kenya’s Biggest Carbon Credit Scandal

    Millions invested, thousands jobless, and a government fighting back against what it calls fraudulent emissions trading

    When Koko Networks abruptly shuttered its operations on January 31, leaving 700 employees jobless and 1.5 million households without cooking fuel, the company blamed Kenyan bureaucracy.

    But interviews with government officials, carbon market experts, and leaked internal documents paint a vastly different picture: one of questionable accounting, opaque business practices, and a carbon credit scheme that Kenya’s economic advisers now openly question.

    The London-headquartered firm, which raised over $300 million from blue-chip investors including the Microsoft Climate Innovation Fund and Rand Merchant Bank, positioned itself as a revolutionary force in clean cooking. Its bright blue ethanol dispensers became fixtures across Nairobi’s low-income neighborhoods, offering bioethanol fuel at prices 50 percent below market rates. What customers didn’t know was that they were unwitting participants in what critics now call one of the most sophisticated carbon credit arbitrage schemes in East Africa.

    President William Ruto’s chief economic adviser David Ndii fired the opening salvo in what promises to be a protracted legal battle. In a tersely worded statement on social media, Ndii questioned the “veracity of cookstove carbon credits” and cited “lack of transparency in Koko’s business model” as critical factors in the government’s decision to withhold authorization letters that would have allowed the company to sell credits in compliance markets.

    The statement represents a dramatic departure from the usual diplomatic language surrounding investment disputes. For Kenya to publicly challenge the legitimacy of carbon credits certified by Gold Standard, one of the industry’s most respected verification bodies, signals either extraordinary evidence of malfeasance or a government preparing for an expensive fight.

    That fight centers on a $179.6 million political risk insurance policy from the World Bank’s Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency. The policy, issued just last March in what was trumpeted as the world’s first carbon-linked political insurance, explicitly covers government breach of contract. Koko is expected to file claims that could saddle Kenyan taxpayers with a bill exceeding Sh23 billion.

    But the government appears ready to contest those claims on grounds that strike at the heart of the global carbon trading system. Sources familiar with the negotiations, who spoke on condition of anonymity due to the sensitivity of pending litigation, say Kenyan officials discovered significant discrepancies between the emissions reductions Koko claimed and what independent audits suggested were achievable.

    The controversy arrives at a particularly damaging moment for cookstove carbon credits globally. Last year, researchers at the University of California Berkeley published a peer-reviewed study concluding that clean cookstove projects save only a fraction of the carbon emissions claimed. The study sent shockwaves through a market already reeling from revelations of fraud.

    Those revelations came in spectacular fashion when United States federal prosecutors charged two executives of C-Quest Capital, another cookstove carbon credit operator with Kenya connections, with obtaining over $100 million through fraudulent emissions schemes. Kenneth Newcombe and Tridip Goswami stand accused of systematically manipulating survey data from projects in Malawi, Zambia, and Angola to inflate emission reductions.

    The criminal indictment describes a pattern of fabrication eerily similar to concerns Kenyan officials now raise about Koko. When actual emission reductions fell short of projections, the indictment alleges, C-Quest executives simply invented better numbers. They falsified survey results, inflated stove usage rates, and misrepresented how many stoves remained operational. The fabricated data was then submitted to verification bodies to fraudulently claim carbon credits worth tens of millions of dollars.

    US Attorney Damian Williams was unsparing in his assessment. The defendants, he said, had “undermined the integrity of a market that is crucial to combating climate change.”

    For Kenya, the implications extend far beyond one failed startup. The government has staked significant political capital on positioning itself as a climate leader, hosting major UN environmental summits and promoting ambitious reforestation programs. The notion that carbon credits generated on Kenyan soil might be fraudulent or grossly overvalued threatens not just revenue sharing agreements but the country’s international environmental credibility.

    The business model Koko employed should have raised red flags from the beginning. The company sold cooking stoves for $12 that cost $115 to produce. It dispensed fuel at prices guaranteeing substantial losses on every liter. The entire operation was predicated on carbon credit revenues that had not yet materialized and required regulatory approvals the company did not possess.

    This was not a sustainable business. It was financial engineering disguised as social enterprise, a Ponzi-like structure where each funding round covered losses from the previous one while executives promised that carbon credit sales would eventually close the gap. When the Kenyan government declined to provide the authorization letters, the emperor’s new clothes vanished.

    What remains are hard questions about due diligence and accountability. How did sophisticated investors commit hundreds of millions of dollars to a business model dependent on regulatory approvals that didn’t exist? Why did the World Bank issue political risk insurance for a company that apparently couldn’t verify its core product? And why did it take a government pushback to expose what now appears to be a fundamentally flawed enterprise?

    Industry analysts point to a troubling pattern in climate finance where wealthy institutional investors, eager to demonstrate environmental credentials, pour money into African projects with minimal scrutiny of the underlying economics. The projects generate impressive metrics for sustainability reports and carbon offset portfolios. When they collapse, the investors file insurance claims or write off the losses while host communities are left with broken promises and abandoned infrastructure.

    Koko’s 1.5 million former customers now face an immediate crisis. Many had sold their charcoal stoves and cooking equipment, betting on the reliability of ethanol fuel. They are now being forced back to charcoal, reversing years of health improvements from reduced indoor air pollution and accelerating the deforestation Koko claimed to prevent.

    The 700 laid-off workers, meanwhile, received their termination notices via text message after two days of closed-door meetings at the company’s Nairobi headquarters. No severance packages were offered. No explanations were provided beyond boilerplate statements about regulatory challenges.

    For conservation expert Mordecai Ogada, who has long criticized carbon offset schemes as “carbon colonialism,” the Koko collapse validates years of warnings. Foreign companies, he argues, extract value from African environmental resources while exposing host nations to massive financial and reputational risks. When the schemes fail, the companies retreat to London or New York while Africans deal with the consequences.

    The government’s decision to fight back, to openly question the legitimacy of Koko’s carbon credits rather than quietly signing authorization letters, represents a potential turning point. It signals that Kenya may no longer be willing to serve as a compliant host for carbon trading schemes that privatize profits while socializing risks.

    But the fight will be expensive and legally complex. Miga’s authorization letter template, introduced in 2024, includes explicit provisions requiring host governments to compensate investors for revenue losses resulting from regulatory delays. The letter’s language is heavily weighted toward investor protection, reflecting the World Bank’s mandate to encourage private sector participation in development projects.

    Kenya will need to prove not just that it had legitimate concerns about Koko’s carbon credits, but that those concerns rise to the level of fraud or fundamental breach of contract. It will need to demonstrate that Koko’s methodology was flawed, that its emission calculations were inflated, or that the company misrepresented its capabilities to both investors and the Kenyan government.

    The legal discovery process promises to expose the inner workings of carbon credit generation in unprecedented detail. How exactly did Koko calculate emissions savings? What assumptions underpinned those calculations? Were the assumptions reasonable given actual stove usage patterns and fuel consumption data? Did the company have evidence supporting its claims before it raised hundreds of millions of dollars?

    These questions matter far beyond Kenya. The global carbon credit market is worth billions of dollars and is central to corporate climate strategies worldwide. If a significant portion of cookstove credits prove to be overvalued or fraudulent, it undermines the credibility of the entire offset mechanism.

    Already, the revelations about C-Quest Capital have triggered widespread skepticism about cookstove projects specifically. Major credit rating agencies have downgraded the value of cookstove offsets. Some corporate buyers have quietly stopped purchasing them altogether. Koko’s collapse, coming so soon after the C-Quest indictments, reinforces the perception that this entire category of carbon credits may be built on sand.

    The timing could not be worse for climate finance. As countries negotiate implementation of Article 6 of the Paris Agreement, which governs international carbon trading, the Koko scandal provides ammunition to skeptics who argue the system is inherently prone to gaming and fraud. How can governments verify emissions reductions happening in remote rural areas? How can third-party auditors prevent the kind of data manipulation alleged in the C-Quest case? What happens when a verification body certifies credits a government later deems fraudulent?

    These are not abstract policy questions. They have immediate, tangible consequences for the 1.5 million Kenyan families now scrambling to find cooking fuel and the 700 workers wondering how they will pay next month’s rent. They have consequences for the investors who bet on Koko and may now face total losses. They have consequences for Kenya’s relationship with the World Bank and its ability to attract future climate finance.

    Most fundamentally, they have consequences for trust in market-based climate solutions. If carbon credits cannot reliably represent real emissions reductions, if verification systems can be so easily manipulated, if business models can collapse so spectacularly despite oversight from prestigious institutions, then what hope is there for using markets to address climate change?

    The Koko story is still unfolding. Court filings, insurance claims, and regulatory investigations will eventually provide a fuller picture of what went wrong and who bears responsibility. But the preliminary evidence suggests this was not simply a case of bureaucratic delays or regulatory uncertainty. It appears to be something far more troubling: a fundamental mismatch between the carbon credits Koko claimed to generate and the emissions reductions it actually achieved.

    If Kenya can prove that case, it will mark a watershed moment in climate finance. A government in the Global South will have successfully challenged the carbon accounting of a well-funded, internationally backed company and its prestigious verification partners. It will have asserted that host nations have not just the right but the obligation to scrutinize carbon credit claims, even when doing so means fighting powerful financial interests and risking future investment.

    That fight is just beginning. The outcome will reverberate far beyond Kenya’s borders, shaping how carbon markets function, how developing nations engage with climate finance, and whether the promise of using market mechanisms to fund sustainable development can survive the reality of fraud, opacity, and broken trust that now defines too much of the carbon trading world.

  • ARE YOU PASSING POWDERED MILK FROM UKRAINE AS FRESH? LAWYER QUESTIONS QUALITY OF KCC’S ‘GOLD CROWN’ MILK

    ARE YOU PASSING POWDERED MILK FROM UKRAINE AS FRESH? LAWYER QUESTIONS QUALITY OF KCC’S ‘GOLD CROWN’ MILK

    NAIROBI: A prominent Nairobi lawyer has thrown down the gauntlet to New Kenya Cooperative Creameries (New KCC), publicly questioning whether the state-owned dairy giant is secretly passing off reconstituted powdered milk as fresh Gold Crown milk to unsuspecting Kenyans.

    Advocate Donald B. Kipkorir, a man who has built a career built on cutting through corporate and government excuses, posted photographic evidence on X on Monday morning that sent shockwaves across social media and had thousands of people watching within hours.

    The images were damning.

    “For long, I have been using Fresh Gold Crown milk from KCC,” Kipkorir wrote in his post. “I take one glass of milk only as breakfast. But of late, the so called fresh milk from @newkcckenya tastes differently, has sediments which I have to use a sieve.”

    Then came the question that stopped Kenya’s dairy industry in its tracks.

    “Is KCC passing powdered milk from Ukraine as fresh milk instead of buying from local farmers?”

    The lawyer went on to tag both the Kenya Bureau of Standards (KEBS) and the Kenya Dairy Board, demanding to know whether either body had actually verified that Gold Crown milk was fresh before stamping their seal of approval on it. “When will KCC rise from laziness and mediocrity?” he asked, in a line that has since been screenshotted, shared and quoted across every corner of Kenyan social media.

    A SCANDAL WITH HISTORY

    What makes this controversy particularly explosive is that it is not the first time New KCC has been accused of playing fast and loose with the origins of the milk in its packets.

    Records held by the Food and Agriculture Organisation of the United Nations reveal that New KCC has, in the past, come under intense scrutiny over its association with the importation of contaminated milk powder from Ukraine, a consignment that was declared unfit for human consumption but was allegedly destined to be reconstituted by the creamery.

    The scandal cost KCC significant market share at the time and left a scar on the brand that the company has spent years trying to heal.

    And the practice of reconstituting powdered milk is not a secret inside New KCC.

    In November 2021, New KCC Chairman Ignatius Kahiu openly admitted during a media interview that the company was converting powdered milk back into liquid milk due to a drought-driven shortage.

    “We are being forced to reconstitute some of the powdered milk and blend it with fresh milk and back to the system,” Kahiu said at the time.

    Meanwhile, separate from KCC, revelations have surfaced that Kenyan milk processors have been importing powdered milk from Uganda and reconstituting it into long-life milk at the expense of local dairy farmers.

    The government has since impounded over 30 tonnes of illegally imported milk powder, worth an estimated Sh150 million, in a crackdown led by the DCI Anti-Counterfeit Unit.

    THE NUMBERS TELL A DAMNING STORY

    Kenya imported approximately $85.3 million worth of dairy products in 2023, of which 42 percent, roughly $36 million, was whole and skimmed milk powder. Uganda was the country’s top supplier, far ahead of the Netherlands, Belgium, Ireland and Germany. Even as Kenya was importing milk powder by the tonne, the country was simultaneously producing a surplus. Data from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics shows milk output rose 30 percent from 4 million tons in 2020 to 5.28 million tons in 2023, with provisional 2024 estimates placing production at around 5.33 million tons.

    So if Kenya is producing more milk than it needs, the question that hangs heavy in the air is this: why would KCC need to import powdered milk at all, let alone pass it off as fresh?

    Meanwhile, Ukraine, the very country Kipkorir named in his allegations, has been quietly ramping up its dairy exports.

    The Ukrainian dairy sector produced approximately 8.1 million tons of milk in 2023, with milk powder and whey each accounting for roughly 150,000 tons of processed output.

    The primary dairy products leaving Ukraine include butter, skim milk powder, whole milk powder and lower value cheeses.

    In May 2025 alone, Ukraine exported 14,880 tonnes of dairy products worth $50.83 million. The destinations, analysts note, stretch far beyond the European Union.

    FARMERS ALREADY ON THEIR KNEES

    The timing of Kipkorir’s allegations could not be worse for New KCC.

    The state-owned processor is already under siege from hundreds of furious dairy farmers across the North and South Rift who have gone months without being paid for the milk they delivered.

    As recently as November 2025, farmers staged protests outside the New KCC factory in Eldoret, some of them owed hundreds of thousands of shillings.

    One farmer from Trans Nzoia, Anne Kwamboka, told reporters she was owed Sh500,000 and had been forced to lay off workers as her cows’ milk production dropped from 1,000 litres a day to 600 litres because she could no longer afford to feed them properly.

    “We have been forced to sell our milk to private buyers just to raise some money to sustain our activities,” said another farmer, John Kirwa, from Eldoret.

    If the allegations that KCC has been quietly importing powdered milk and reconstituting it rather than buying from these struggling local farmers are true, the implications go far beyond a quality scandal.

    It would be nothing short of a betrayal of the very dairy farmers the cooperative was built to serve.

    WHAT THE EXPERTS ARE SAYING

    Brand and consumer trust analysts have wasted no time weighing in.

    One commentary circulating widely on social media called the whole saga a textbook case of product integrity failure leading to brand erosion.

    The analysis argued that for a legacy player like New KCC, the Gold Crown value proposition is anchored in premium freshness.

    When the customer experience involves needing a sieve to drink what is supposed to be fresh milk, the brand promise is, in effect, broken.

    The commentary went further, noting that vague supply chain origins, such as the powdered milk allegations, create what it called a credibility gap that competitors will exploit.

    It urged New KCC to mount an immediate crisis communication response and commission a visible quality assurance audit, warning that silence in the face of such allegations would only accelerate the churn of customers away from Gold Crown.

    KEBS AND KDB: WHERE ARE THEY?

    Neither the Kenya Bureau of Standards nor the Kenya Dairy Board had issued a public response to Kipkorir’s allegations as of press time on Tuesday.

    This silence has not gone unnoticed. Kipkorir himself called out both agencies directly in his post, demanding to know whether they had checked that Gold Crown milk was genuinely fresh before putting their stamps on it.

    The scrutiny is not new for KEBS. Earlier in 2025, the bureau was forced to conduct a thorough investigation after similar social media allegations were made against Mount Kenya Milk, a product of the Meru Central Dairy Co-operative Union.

    In that case, KEBS Director Dr. Godfrey Murira confirmed that the milk had passed all surveillance checks and carried both the Standardization Mark and the Diamond Mark. That investigation was resolved. This one, however, has yet to even begin.

    NEW KCC: A COMPANY UNDER SIEGE

    New KCC, once the dominant force in Kenya’s dairy sector with a 40 percent market share, has been battered by scandal, mismanagement and debt for years.

    The company owes farmers hundreds of millions of shillings in unpaid arrears. Its processing plants, some of them decades old, have been described as almost obsolete.

    The government has pledged billions in modernisation funds, including a reported Sh37 billion aid package from India, but progress has been painfully slow.

    New KCC is the largest dairy processor in East and Central Africa, and its core business is supposed to be simple: procure high quality raw milk from Kenyan farmers, process it, package it, and sell it.

    That is what Gold Crown is supposed to stand for.

    If a lawyer in Nairobi can crack open a packet of that milk, pour it into a glass, and watch white sediment collect in a sieve, something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.

    The ball is now firmly in the court of KEBS, the Kenya Dairy Board and New KCC itself. Kenyans, and the thousands of dairy farmers whose livelihoods depend on this company, are watching and waiting.

  • Probe Opened as Hijacked Petronas Exit Deal Costs South Sudan $600m in Lost Oil Revenue

    Probe Opened as Hijacked Petronas Exit Deal Costs South Sudan $600m in Lost Oil Revenue

    A high-stakes probe has been launched in South Sudan’s oil sector after investigators concluded that a botched takeover of Petronas assets has bled the country an estimated $600 million in lost revenue, deepening a fiscal crisis marked by unpaid salaries and widening deficits.

    The investigations, initiated after the appointment of Emmanuel Athiei Ayual as Nile Petroleum Corporation managing director and Dr Chol Thon Abel as Secretary General at the Ministry of Petroleum in November 2025, are now tracing what officials describe as systemic governance failures and possible institutional capture under the previous administration.

    At the centre of the scandal is the stalled acquisition of Petronas’ stakes in South Sudan’s oil blocks, a deal originally sanctioned by President Salva Kiir and billed as a national game-changer. When Petronas announced its exit on August 7, 2024, it held major interests across all three national oil consortia, including 40 per cent of DPOC, 30 per cent of GPOC and a controlling 67.8 per cent of SPOC. The buyback was designed to give the state immediate control of producing assets without upfront capital, with payments structured against future oil output.

    Fifteen months later, the ownership transfer remains incomplete. Arbitration proceedings initiated by Petronas at the International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes are still ongoing, while officials estimate the country has already forfeited about $600 million that should have flowed to the Treasury from production-linked revenues.

    Sources within Nilepet and the Ministry of Petroleum insist the problem was not the deal itself. Instead, they point to paralysis that set in after operational oversight shifted to then Vice President Benjamin Bol Mel, former Petroleum Ministry Secretary General Deng Lual Wol and former Nilepet chief executive Ayuel Ngor Kacgor. Approvals stalled, timelines slipped and international partners were left in limbo, even as oil continued to flow with little benefit to the state.

    Senior officials privately describe the situation as economically irrational. With public servants enduring months of salary arrears, they argue that unlocking revenue from producing assets should have been an urgent priority. “This was meant to generate cash immediately,” said one official involved in the negotiations. “Instead, we imposed austerity while money sat trapped in administrative deadlock.”

    Attention has also turned to the role of foreign partners. Multiple sources accuse Chinese state firms CNPC and Sinopec of refusing to grant key technical and operational approvals required to complete the transfer, effectively blocking the deal. Their stance contrasts with India’s ONGC and Egypt’s Tri-Ocean Energy, which have supported the takeover.

    China’s dominance in South Sudan’s oilfield services sector, from drilling to logistics, has given it outsized leverage over production decisions. Policymakers now warn that this influence has become a structural threat to South Sudan’s economic sovereignty, allowing external actors to dictate the pace at which national revenues are realised.

    Investigators are further examining controversial consultancy payments made during the period. A Dutch national, Cornelis Nicolaas Abraham Loos, a reported associate of former Nilepet CEO Ayuel Ngor Kacgor, is said to have been hired on a $100,000-a-month contract while nearly 3,000 Nilepet workers went unpaid for months, triggering strikes in June 2025. Authorities are probing whether Loos or linked entities had commercial interests in Chinese oilfield service companies, potentially shedding light on inflated contracts, rising operating costs and declining output.

    The probe has also exposed what officials call a shocking lack of professional safeguards. While Petronas relied on top-tier international law firms and financial advisers, Nilepet allegedly engaged no reputable external counsel or investment bank. Negotiations over assets worth hundreds of millions of dollars were reportedly conducted in hotel rooms in Dubai and Nairobi, with thin documentation and little institutional oversight.

    To make matters worse, investigators say key contracts were destroyed or removed by former officials, leaving the current leadership without access to crucial agreements. Although Ayuel Ngor Kacgor was dismissed in November 2025, he is believed to still sit on boards of operating companies registered in Mauritius and to receive remuneration linked to legacy arrangements.

    The political backdrop has sharpened scrutiny. On November 12, 2025, President Kiir dramatically sacked Vice President Benjamin Bol Mel, stripped him of his general’s rank, demoted him to private and placed him under house arrest in Juba. Yet fundamental questions remain unanswered: where did the international financing for the acquisition go, who authorised the lavish consultancy fees and why the transfer remains stalled nearly 18 months after Petronas walked away.

    The crisis fits a broader pattern. The UN Human Rights Commission estimates that about $25.2 billion in oil revenues generated since independence in 2011 remain almost entirely opaque in their use, fuelling public anger and mistrust.

    Now, a new leadership team led by Petroleum Minister Dr Bak Barnaba Chol, Emmanuel Athiei Ayual and Dr Chol Thon Abel is racing to untangle what insiders describe as a toxic legacy. They face missing paperwork, legal disputes, operational disruptions at the Heglig oil field and what they believe is deliberate obstruction by entrenched interests.

    For many in South Sudan’s energy sector, finalising the Petronas–Nilepet deal is still within reach and could mark a turning point by restoring revenue flows and reinforcing national sovereignty. Until then, the country remains trapped between reform efforts and the heavy cost of past mismanagement, with hundreds of millions of dollars still locked out of reach.

  • Political Favors? How Ruto-Linked Sidian Bank Rose To The Top In A Short Time

    Political Favors? How Ruto-Linked Sidian Bank Rose To The Top In A Short Time

    In less than three years, a little-known bank once teetering on the edge of irrelevance has catapulted itself into the ranks of Kenya’s mid-tier lenders, securing billions of shillings in government contracts and raising serious questions about political patronage in the banking sector.

    Sidian Bank, formerly K-Rep Bank, has become the subject of intense scrutiny after former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua made explosive allegations in January 2025 suggesting that a senior official in President William Ruto’s administration acquired the bank to funnel billions from controversial government programs.

    While Gachagua stopped short of naming the bank or the official, the trail of evidence points unmistakably to Sidian and a web of politically connected shareholders who emerged immediately after the 2022 election brought President Ruto to power.

    The bank’s meteoric rise from a struggling Tier 3 institution to a Tier 2 lender in September 2025 coincided with a bonanza of lucrative state contracts, massive deposit inflows from government agencies, and a complete overhaul of its ownership structure that brought in figures closely associated with the current administration.

    The New Owners

    At the heart of the controversy is the bank’s dramatic ownership transformation in October 2023, just months after the 2022 election. Centum Investment Company, which had been trying to sell its majority stake to Nigeria’s Access Bank for Sh4.3 billion, suddenly terminated that deal in January 2023 and instead sold a 38.91 percent stake to a consortium of Kenyan entities.

    The biggest beneficiary was Wizpro Enterprises Limited, which acquired a 24.95 percent stake in the bank. Corporate records show Wizpro is wholly owned by Solomon Muriithi Maina, a businessman who chairs the Kenya Tea Development Agency Management Services and is widely known as a close ally of President Ruto.

    Mr Muriithi has emerged as one of the most prominent investors in the financial sector under the current administration.

    In 2024, he spent Sh326 million to increase his stake in HF Group to 24.2 percent from 18.27 percent, making him the mortgage lender’s largest individual shareholder. He is also reportedly eyeing the Mathira parliamentary seat, a move that would further cement his political ambitions.

    Other members of the consortium that bought into Sidian include Pioneer General Insurance, which acquired a 16.89 percent stake, and Afram Limited with 24.36 percent.

    Pioneer’s ownership is linked to UAE-based firms including Abcon International LLC, Parkview Investments Limited, and Medillon Trading FZE, raising questions about foreign influence in the bank’s operations.

    The shareholding structure was further complicated in September 2024 when former Ugandan Attorney General William Byaruhanga acquired a 14.63 percent stake worth Sh1.03 billion through his investment firm Kenbe Investments. Byaruhanga, who served under President Yoweri Museveni from 2016 to 2021, has built an extensive business empire spanning real estate, hospitality, and manufacturing.

    Meanwhile, other politically connected individuals have also invested in the bank’s financial ecosystem.

    National Assembly Majority Leader Kimani Ichung’wah and Thika Town MP Alice Ng’ang’a, both key Ruto allies, bought shares in HF Group, which is part of the same investment circle as Sidian’s major shareholders.

    Former Kenya Revenue Authority chair Anthony Mwaura, his spouse and daughter also bought a Sh1.6 billion stake in HF Group, making the family the second-largest shareholder of the listed mortgage firm. Mr Mwaura previously chaired the United Democratic Alliance’s National Elections Board, overseeing the campaign that propelled President Ruto to State House.

    The interconnected web of shareholders raises uncomfortable questions about whether the bank has become a vehicle for politically connected individuals to access government funds.

    ## The Government Jackpot

    What transformed Sidian from a struggling lender into a financial powerhouse was not organic growth or innovative banking products. It was a series of government contracts that brought billions of shillings in deposits flooding into the bank’s coffers.

    In August 2024, Sidian Bank was selected as one of six lenders to handle payments under the Social Health Insurance Fund (SHIF), which processes close to Sh200 billion annually. The bank stood out conspicuously as the only Tier 3 lender at the time in a lineup dominated by heavyweights including KCB Bank Kenya, Co-operative Bank, Absa Bank Kenya, Equity Bank and Diamond Trust Bank.

    The selection raised eyebrows. How did a small bank with limited infrastructure and a history of losses beat out four other large banks and nine mid-sized competitors to win a contract of such magnitude?

    Government officials claimed the decision followed consultations with employers, but critics questioned whether the process was transparent. Under the now-defunct National Hospital Insurance Fund (NHIF), payments were routed through only four banks. Under the new SHA framework, Sidian suddenly found itself handling a piece of the country’s largest health financing scheme.

    The bank moved quickly to clarify that it was only facilitating collections and remitting funds directly to SHA accounts, insisting it did not hold or manage SHA funds. But the optics were terrible, especially given the timing of the ownership changes.

    In addition to SHIF contributions, Sidian Bank was also authorized to receive housing levy funds, the statutory 1.5 percent salary deduction intended to finance affordable housing initiatives. This gave the bank access to another major revenue stream from government collections.

    But perhaps the biggest windfall came from the National Social Security Fund. By the end of 2024, NSSF had placed about Sh800 million with Sidian Bank, making it the single largest beneficiary among 11 lenders that shared Sh2.696 billion in fixed and term deposits from the provident fund.

    This was a stunning reversal from 2023, when Co-operative Bank topped the NSSF placement list with Sh2.664 billion, followed by KCB with Sh1.94 billion and NCBA with Sh1.35 billion. Other beneficiaries in that year included Absa with Sh1.294 billion, National Bank of Kenya with Sh1.027 billion and Equity Bank with Sh827 million.

    In 2024, these major banks received little or nothing from NSSF. Instead, Sidian walked away with the lion’s share. NSSF did not respond to queries about why it shifted most of its term deposits to Sidian Bank.

    In November 2024, Nairobi Governor Johnson Sakaja further boosted Sidian’s fortunes by directing all Level 4 and 5 public health facilities in the county to transfer their accounts from Co-operative Bank to Sidian Bank. The move gave the lender a significant shot in the arm in deposit mobilization, with hospital revenues providing a steady inflow of cash.

    When questioned by the Senate Committee on Devolution and Intergovernmental Relations, Mr Sakaja defended the decision by claiming Sidian had a cheaper interest rate and gave a better offer. He insisted that the bank’s ownership structure did not matter, saying every bank has owners and that what matters is good service.

    But the timing raised questions. The directive came just as Sidian’s new shareholders were pushing to elevate it into a mid-tier institution by 2028, and the additional deposits would be crucial to achieving that goal.

    ## The Financial Transformation

    The influx of government money transformed Sidian’s balance sheet almost overnight. Customer deposits rose significantly from Sh43.5 billion in September 2024 to Sh59.8 billion in June 2025 and further to Sh78.1 billion in September 2025. This represented an 80 percent increase in just one year.

    Rather than lending out the deposits to businesses and consumers, Sidian channeled much of the fresh inflows into Treasury bills and bonds. The bank’s stock of government securities surged from Sh19.3 billion in September 2024 to Sh48.6 billion in September 2025, a 152 percent increase.

    This strategy of parking deposits in risk-free government securities bolstered the bank’s earnings dramatically. Interest income from government securities jumped 134.7 percent to Sh3 billion from Sh1.3 billion, helping to offset a 9.2 percent drop in interest income from loans.

    The bank’s net profit surged 5.1 times from Sh287.26 million in the nine months to September 2024 to Sh1.47 billion in the same period of 2025. This was despite the fact that its loan book remained essentially flat at Sh25.1 billion, with management attributing the stagnation to a sluggish economy.

    By September 2025, the Central Bank of Kenya officially reclassified Sidian as a Tier 2 bank, denoting a market share of between one and five percent. The bank had achieved in two years what typically takes a decade of organic growth.

    But the rapid transformation came at a cost to taxpayers. By placing billions in government deposits with Sidian, which then invested them in Treasury bills and bonds, the government was essentially paying the bank to hold its own money. The interest earned by Sidian on these securities was ultimately being funded by taxpayers.

    ## The Gachagua Allegations

    The controversy exploded into the public domain in January 2025 when Rigathi Gachagua, who had been impeached in October 2024, appeared on KTN News and made explosive claims about a shadowy scheme involving a senior official in President Ruto’s administration.

    Gachagua alleged that a powerful figure had snapped up a financial institution to funnel billions from the Housing Levy and SHIF contributions. He claimed to have inside knowledge because he was present when these arrangements were being made.

    While Gachagua refused to name the bank or the official, his cryptic revelations sparked intense speculation on social media, with Sidian Bank’s name dominating the conversation. Kenyans on X unearthed past advertisements positioning Sidian Bank as a collection point for SHIF contributions, lending credence to the theory that Sidian was the institution in question.

    Gachagua claimed that nearly Sh100 billion from the Housing Levy and SHIF was parked in a single bank, and that the bank had been purchased by a senior official through proxies immediately after the 2022 election.

    The timing of Gachagua’s allegations was significant. He had been impeached just months earlier on charges of corruption, incitement of ethnic divisions, and undermining national unity. Gachagua contended that his ousting was a strategic move to silence him and obscure financial malpractices involving government programs.

    In subsequent interviews and church appearances throughout 2025, Gachagua escalated his attacks on the Housing Levy and affordable housing program, calling it “the worst fraud against the people of Kenya.” He alleged that government officials were diverting the levy to sell construction materials such as cement, steel, and iron sheets for personal gain.

    He further claimed that NSSF money was being diverted to fund private projects like the Bomas of Kenya and the Rironi-Mau Summit road, benefiting individuals connected to the government.

    President Ruto has consistently defended his administration’s programs, embracing his “Zakayo” nickname and vowing to push ahead with his agenda. “Even if they call me Zakayo, so long as I deliver, I have no problem,” he said in January 2025.

    Lands, Housing, and Urban Development Cabinet Secretary Alice Wahome dismissed Gachagua’s allegations and challenged him to back his claims with evidence. “For somebody at the level of deputy president, a former deputy president, to tell Kenyans that there is somewhere my ministry is sitting behind the scenes and making some illegal contracts, I would want him to tell the EACC where that is,” she stated.

    ## Questions of Propriety

    While there is no evidence that President Ruto or any senior official directly owns shares in Sidian Bank, the web of connections between the bank’s major shareholders and the current administration raises serious questions about political patronage.

    The fact that the bank’s ownership transformation occurred immediately after the 2022 election, and that its fortunes changed dramatically once these new shareholders came on board, suggests more than coincidence.

    The selection of Sidian to handle SHIF payments and housing levy collections, despite its small size and limited infrastructure, also raises questions about the criteria used by government agencies in awarding these lucrative contracts.

    The massive shift of NSSF deposits from major banks to Sidian in 2024, without any public explanation, further deepens suspicions of favoritism.

    Civil society organizations and anti-corruption watchdogs have called for comprehensive investigations into Sidian Bank’s ownership and operations. They advocate for forensic audits of SHA fund allocations and disbursements, transparent disclosure of the bank’s shareholders and beneficiaries, and independent inquiries into alleged collusion between Kenyan officials and the bank’s owners.

    The Central Bank of Kenya has flagged Sidian for having inadequate core capital adequacy ratios, with stress tests revealing potential vulnerability to loan defaults. This suggests that despite its rapid growth, the bank may still face regulatory challenges that could require additional capital injection from its shareholders.

    ## The Broader Implications

    The Sidian Bank saga highlights a troubling pattern in Kenya’s financial sector, where political connections often matter more than business fundamentals or competitive merit.

    The Housing Levy and SHIF have been controversial since their inception, with critics arguing they burden salaried workers while offering little tangible benefit. The Federation of Kenya Employers warned in January 2025 that these deductions, combined with PAYE and other taxes, devour up to 45 percent of workers’ paychecks.

    If billions from these programs are indeed being channeled through banks owned by politically connected individuals who then invest the funds in government securities, it raises fundamental questions about the purpose of these levies and whether they are being used as intended.

    The government’s privatization agenda has also come under scrutiny, with critics alleging that public assets are being undervalued and sold to politically connected buyers. More than 10 state parastatals have been earmarked for privatization, including KICC, JKIA, Kenya Seed Company, and National Oil Corporation of Kenya.

    The lack of transparency around these transactions, combined with the Sidian Bank example, has fueled public distrust in the government’s economic management.

    As Kenya heads toward the 2027 election, the Sidian Bank controversy is likely to remain a flashpoint. Gachagua has vowed that if elected president, he will scrap the Housing Levy, hand over all completed housing units to county governments, and use rental income to refund Kenyans their deductions.

    For now, Sidian Bank continues to grow, buoyed by government deposits and protected by politically connected shareholders. But the questions about how it got there, and who is benefiting, are unlikely to go away anytime soon.

    The bank’s transformation from struggling lender to mid-tier powerhouse in less than three years stands as a stark reminder that in Kenya’s banking sector, political connections can be worth more than decades of hard work and sound business practices.

    Whether this represents legitimate business success or something more sinister remains to be seen. What is clear is that the Kenyan public deserves answers about how their money is being managed, and whether the banking system is being used to enrich a politically connected elite at taxpayers’ expense.

  • Hospitals Threatens Closure As Govt Delays SHA Payments Forcing Patients to Pay Cash

    Hospitals Threatens Closure As Govt Delays SHA Payments Forcing Patients to Pay Cash

    A healthcare catastrophe is unfolding across Kenya as hundreds of private and faith-based hospitals teeter on the brink of collapse, with patients increasingly turned away unless they can pay cash despite being fully registered members of the Social Health Authority.

    The crisis has reached breaking point, with facilities collectively owed more than Sh76 billion in unpaid claims by SHA, leaving hospital administrators with an impossible choice: continue treating patients on credit while drowning in debt, or demand upfront payment and risk violating government directives.

    At the epicenter of this disaster is a digital health insurance system that promised universal healthcare coverage but has instead become a bureaucratic nightmare, trapping patients between empty hospital coffers and their constitutional right to medical care.

    Dr. Brian Lishenga, chairman of the Rural and Urban Private Hospitals Association of Kenya, revealed that the payment crisis has escalated dramatically since SHA’s inception in October 2024, with some facilities now going five months or more without receiving a single shilling from the authority.

    “It’s like being in a bad marriage that you cannot leave,” Dr. Lishenga told this writer, describing the untenable relationship between healthcare providers and the government’s flagship health insurance program.

    The backlog is particularly severe for high-cost medical interventions, including inpatient surgical procedures, renal dialysis, cancer treatment and maternity services, some dating back six months with no resolution in sight despite repeated assurances from the Ministry of Health.

    Behind the staggering financial figures are real people facing real emergencies with diminishing options.

    Sylvia, who requested to use only her first name, found herself in a nightmare scenario at a Machakos hospital where her cousin had been rushed following a caesarean section emergency. Despite the life-threatening situation, the family was told SHA was not working and demanded a Sh13,200 down payment before treatment could begin.

    “We don’t have that money,” Sylvia said, her voice strained with anxiety as she made frantic calls to friends and relatives outside the hospital ward where her cousin waited in pain. “I have seen on the internet that the president said we should go to the hospital and we will be treated for free. This is not free.”

    Her story is being replicated thousands of times across the country, particularly in rural areas and urban estates where lower-level private facilities serve communities that cannot afford to travel to distant public hospitals.

    The consequences extend far beyond inconvenience. Without drugs, laboratory reagents or functioning equipment, hospitals are forced to turn away emergency cases or provide substandard care, raising the specter of preventable deaths.

    One Level 3A facility owner, who spoke on condition of anonymity for fear of government retaliation, described a descent into financial ruin that reads like a business horror story.

    Owed Sh15 million by SHA over five months, the hospital owner had purchased Sh8 million worth of medical equipment on credit to comply with new government facility classifications, only to find himself unable to make the required Sh354,000 monthly payments to suppliers.

    The equipment suppliers, tired of empty promises, moved to auction the hospital’s assets. In a desperate bid to prevent total collapse, the owner surrendered his anaesthesia machine at a substantial loss just to buy time.

    “I gave it to them with the hope that SHA will pay. I don’t know what I will do when they come again next month,” the hospital owner said, his resignation palpable. “I agreed to give it away at a loss, but what do I do?”

    The facility, like hundreds of others, continues to receive patients daily. With 29 million Kenyans now registered for SHA and educated to expect free services, hospital owners cannot refuse care without risking closure by government authorities who have demonstrated a hair-trigger response to facilities attempting to charge patients out-of-pocket.

    “Patients are entitled. Our biggest headache is that we cannot ask them to pay in cash,” the facility owner explained. “I know of some facilities that tried that and some patients called SHA and that resulted in their closure. There was no investigation done.”

    The pharmaceutical supply chain has also collapsed for many facilities. The hospital owner revealed that pharmaceutical companies have blacklisted his facility after months of non-payment, meaning drugs can now only be purchased with upfront cash the hospital doesn’t have.

    “That is why we don’t have drugs,” he said. “We cannot tell this to patients. We agree to see them but sometimes we don’t even have reagents for lab tests.”

    With monthly running costs exceeding Sh1 million, including Sh200,000 in rent, Sh354,000 in equipment debt, and Sh450,000 in staff salaries, the mathematics of survival have become impossible without SHA payments.

    Some staff members have already been terminated, while others have agreed to stay on despite reduced salaries, creating a workforce crisis that compounds the medical emergency.

    The Ministry of Health has maintained a firm stance that hospitals are at fault for unpaid claims, not the government.

    In an interview last week, Health Cabinet Secretary Aden Duale insisted that SHA conducts payments every 14th day of each month and that unpaid claims result from missing documentation or errors flagged automatically by the digital system.

    “Those that have not been paid either have a missing document or something was not done correctly, and the system flags it. Hospitals should stop claiming they do not know why their claims have not been paid. The system automatically informs them,” Mr. Duale said.

    But hospital administrators paint a vastly different picture of a system that rejects claims without explanation, provides no mechanism for dispute resolution, and leaves facilities trapped in an information black hole.

    “We don’t know why we haven’t been paid. I have duly filled the claim forms. I have followed up with SHA via email, and in person,” the Level 3A facility owner said. “When I get to their branch they say that they can’t see our attachments yet, on our end, all attachments are up to standard.”

    The digital portal itself has become a source of frustration, with hospitals reporting that system changes occur without notice, sometimes rendering previously submitted claims inaccessible or incompatible with new requirements.

    More alarmingly, the Rural and Urban Private Hospitals Association revealed that over 10,000 inpatient beds and 3,500 maternity beds have been mysteriously deleted from the SHA portal without explanation, despite hospitals holding valid licenses from the Kenya Medical Practitioners and Dentists Council.

    “We are gravely concerned that facilities have had their bed capacity deleted and downgraded in the SHA portal despite having valid KMPDC licences,” Dr. Lishenga said.

    For maternity cases, which form a substantial portion of claims at lower-level facilities, the verification process has descended into absurdity.

    “For a maternity case for instance, we have even asked SHA officials to do the due diligence and call the women asking them if they delivered in our facilities,” the facility owner explained. “Instead, they are rejecting claims without verification or an explanation.”

    Complicating the crisis is an aggressive government campaign against fraudulent SHA claims that has seen over 1,400 facilities shut down or suspended since the program’s inception.

    In August 2025, CS Duale suspended 40 hospitals following a forensic audit, with an additional 45 facilities degazetted shortly thereafter. The crackdown uncovered ghost hospitals, inflated bed capacities, and fictitious claims totaling Sh10.6 billion.

    The government’s determination to root out fraud, while necessary, has created a climate of fear and suspicion that hospital associations say is ensnaring legitimate providers alongside criminal operators.

    “Any healthcare provider whose information is used to defraud SHA will be held personally liable,” Duale warned, adding that facilities would be surcharged to recover funds already paid on false claims.

    The Kenya Association of Private Hospitals criticized the ministry for “weaponizing SHA fraud controls” and threatening closure rather than working collaboratively to resolve payment disputes with legitimate facilities.

    The Auditor General’s March 2025 report revealed fundamental problems with SHA’s digital procurement process, including unbudgeted and non-competitive procurement, undefined scope of work, and questions about who actually owns the system being managed by a private consortium.

    These systemic weaknesses have created an environment where the line between genuine claims and fraudulent ones has become hopelessly blurred, with hospital owners saying they are being punished for a broken system they did not create.

    SHA has reportedly paid Sh50 billion of the Sh93 billion in claims submitted since October 2024, a payout ratio that hospital associations say demonstrates the fundamental insolvency of the scheme.

    “This is a sign that SHA is not collecting enough money to reimburse hospitals,” Dr. Lishenga said, accusing the Ministry of Health of publishing misleading reimbursement figures without disclosing total claims submitted, approved claims, or actual payout ratios.

    The financial gap is compounded by Sh33 billion in arrears inherited from the defunct National Hospital Insurance Fund, which remain unpaid more than five months after President William Ruto directed their settlement.

    In counties where the government is piloting its digital healthcare superhighway program, including Mombasa, Kirinyaga, Embu and Nandi, facilities report persistent non-payment that has left them unable to participate in primary healthcare services.

    A Parliamentary committee report in November 2025 documented 19 critical failures in the SHA system, including inconsistent reimbursements, biometric challenges for patients without national IDs, and the absence of a functional claims management office required under the Social Health Insurance Act.

    The committee found that some facilities had received no disbursements whatsoever, while erroneous payments to others, including Sh16 million mistakenly sent to a private hospital instead of Nyeri County Referral Hospital, remain unrecovered.

    Faced with financial annihilation, hospital associations have begun directing members to demand cash payment from patients, effectively undermining the entire premise of universal health coverage.

    In September 2025, RUPHA issued a directive to over 700 member facilities to suspend SHA services and revert to out-of-pocket payments, describing the authority as “a bad borrower and a bad debtor.”

    “We have proved that SHA is a bad borrower and a bad debtor. From today, all medical services at this facility for Social Health Authority beneficiaries will be offered on a cash basis unless otherwise stated,” the association’s notice read.

    The Kenya Healthcare Federation took the extraordinary step of informing SHA that private hospitals would no longer treat civil servants unless they paid cash, following nine months of non-payment for services rendered to government employees and their families.

    For patients like James Nyau, a road accident survivor requiring weekly physiotherapy, SHA membership has proven worthless despite being a fully paid member.

    “Every week I pay Sh1,100 for a single physiotherapy session, plus other costs that SHA doesn’t cover. I’ve skipped sessions because of the cost,” Nyau said, highlighting the gap between SHA’s promised benefits and actual coverage.

    Samuel Gitau, an Eastleigh resident, echoed the sentiment: “My son was unwell recently, and I had to pay Sh1,100 for his treatment. Sometimes, you just don’t have the money. Insurance could make a big difference, but right now, it doesn’t.”

    Legal experts and civil society organizations warn that the SHA payment crisis represents a violation of multiple constitutional provisions and statutes.

    Article 43 of the Constitution guarantees the right to the highest attainable standard of health, while Article 47 ensures the right to fair administrative action. The Fair Administrative Action Act requires reasons for all adverse decisions, while the Public Finance Management Act demands lawful and accountable use of public funds.

    “By rejecting claims without explanation and withholding payments, SHA is breaching all these principles,” noted one civil society analysis of the crisis.

    The High Court in May 2025 quashed CS Duale’s decision to form a committee to verify pending bills owed to hospitals by the defunct NHIF, ruling that the government’s delay tactics were unconstitutional.

    Yet hospitals report that nothing has changed on the ground, with the payment freeze continuing unabated despite court orders and repeated government promises.

    Hospital administrators and medical associations are united in their warning: without immediate intervention, Kenya’s healthcare system faces systemic collapse.

    “No one is listening to healthcare providers. If this continues, there will be a crisis in the system soon,” the Level 3A facility owner said. “We feel like the government knows what they are doing.”

    Dr. Lishenga was more direct: “Unless there is a substantial move to settle liabilities, we will move to out-of-pocket payment. We have no other way. How do we keep the facilities open? You cannot have three-quarters of hospitals that have not paid their workers for the last three months and expect that health care will be normal.”

    The stakes extend beyond hospital finances to the very survival of patients who depend on private and faith-based facilities for care. With public hospitals already overwhelmed and understaffed, the closure or dysfunction of private facilities would trigger a healthcare emergency affecting millions of Kenyans.

    As hospitals run on empty coffers and patients face impossible choices between bankruptcy and suffering, the promise of universal health coverage increasingly resembles a cruel deception rather than the transformational reform it was meant to be.

    For the facility owner still negotiating with creditors over his remaining equipment, the future is measured in weeks, not months.

    “I don’t know what I will do when they come again next month,” he said, his words a testament to the desperation that now defines healthcare delivery in President Ruto’s Kenya.

    This publication reached out to CS Duale and SHA CEO Mercy Mwangangi for comment on the specific allegations raised by hospital owners, but neither had responded by the time of going to press.

  • Cooking Fuel Firm Koko Collapses After Govt Blocks Sh23bn Carbon Deal

    Cooking Fuel Firm Koko Collapses After Govt Blocks Sh23bn Carbon Deal

    Government’s Rejection of Carbon Credit Sales Triggers Instant Shutdown of Clean Energy Pioneer, Crushing Dreams of 1.5 Million Poor Households

    Nairobi’s Baba Dogo industrial area fell silent on Friday evening after clean cooking fuel firm Koko Networks made the dramatic decision to shut down all operations and send home its entire 700-strong workforce, following a bitter standoff with the Kenyan government over carbon credit sales that has cost the country billions of shillings in climate financing and left more than 1.5 million low-income households facing a return to dangerous and polluting charcoal.

    The collapse of the once-celebrated climate technology company came after two days of tense boardroom deliberations, during which executives wrestled with the harsh reality that without government approval to sell carbon credits internationally through a Letter of Authorisation, the company’s entire business model had become financially unviable overnight.

    Management delivered the crushing news to staff members on Friday afternoon, telling them not to report to work on Monday.

    The abrupt closure marks one of the most spectacular corporate failures in Kenya’s emerging clean energy sector and raises serious questions about the government’s commitment to supporting climate action despite its public pronouncements on environmental protection.

    “We are just from a meeting with the management, and they have communicated the decision to close operations. Nobody is supposed to be in the office tomorrow, the decision has been made,” a devastated staff member told Business Daily on Friday, speaking on condition of anonymity.

    The shutdown represents a stunning reversal of fortune for a company that just eight months ago was celebrating a historic Sh23.18 billion guarantee from the World Bank’s Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency, the largest political risk insurance policy ever issued to support carbon market activities under the Paris Agreement.

    At the heart of Koko’s collapse lies the government’s refusal to issue a Letter of Authorisation that would have allowed the company to sell its carbon credits in lucrative international compliance markets, particularly the Carbon Offsetting and Reduction Scheme for International Aviation, which requires credits backed by government approval and corresponding adjustments under Article 6 of the Paris Agreement.

    The LOA rejection has effectively strangled Koko’s revenue stream. The company had generated approximately six million tonnes of carbon credits annually through its operations, which involved replacing charcoal and firewood with cleaner bioethanol cooking fuel in low-income households. These credits, certified under the rigorous Gold Standard methodology, were supposed to fund the massive subsidies that made Koko’s products affordable to Kenya’s poorest families.

    Without carbon credit revenues, the mathematics of Koko’s business model simply do not work. The company was selling bioethanol at Sh100 per litre, half the market price of Sh200, while absorbing an even more dramatic subsidy on its cooking stoves, which retailed at Sh1,500 compared to a true cost of Sh15,000. This nine-tenths discount on hardware alone required consistent carbon credit sales to international buyers willing to pay premium prices for high-integrity, correspondingly adjusted credits.

    The government’s decision appears particularly puzzling given that Kenya has been actively developing its carbon market infrastructure and passed amendments to the Climate Change Act in 2023 specifically to enable participation in Article 6 mechanisms. The country has also been drafting regulations for a National Carbon Registry designed to facilitate the issuance of Letters of Authorisation and track corresponding adjustments.

    Industry insiders suggest the LOA rejection may stem from broader concerns about how Kenya manages its carbon accounting under its Nationally Determined Contributions to the Paris Agreement. When the government issues an LOA and applies corresponding adjustments, it must subtract those carbon reductions from its own national climate targets, potentially making it harder to demonstrate progress on emissions reduction commitments.

    However, this explanation rings hollow to many observers who note that Koko’s projects were delivering genuine, additional carbon reductions that would not have occurred otherwise. The company had issued over 10 million vintage credits from 2021 to 2024 and was on track to continue generating substantial volumes that could have attracted hundreds of millions of dollars in foreign climate finance.

    The timing of the collapse could not be worse for Kenya’s clean cooking sector. The country has been struggling to transition households away from charcoal and firewood, which contribute to deforestation, indoor air pollution, and health problems that kill thousands of Kenyans annually. Koko had emerged as the most successful scalable solution, reaching 1.5 million customers across eight cities including Nairobi, Mombasa, Kisumu and Nakuru.

    The company’s innovative distribution model, which placed over 3,000 cloud-connected automated refilling machines at small shops owned predominantly by female entrepreneurs, had created employment and income opportunities for thousands of agents while providing convenient access to clean fuel in low-income neighborhoods where such services are typically scarce.

    The economic devastation extends far beyond Koko’s direct workforce. The company employed 650 people directly in Kenya and worked with thousands of agents and distributors. Its supply chain included partnerships with major firms like Vivo Energy for bioethanol procurement and Indian manufacturer SAARUS for cookstove production. All of these stakeholders now face uncertain futures.

    For Koko’s 1.5 million customers, the shutdown represents a forced return to dirtier, more dangerous cooking methods. With liquefied petroleum gas prices averaging Sh1,350 for a six-kilogram refill, far beyond the reach of most low-income households, many will have no choice but to resume using charcoal and kerosene despite the health risks and environmental damage.

    The collapse also raises troubling questions about the effectiveness of development finance instruments. The World Bank’s MIGA guarantee was specifically designed to protect against political risks including breach of contract by host governments. However, it appears the insurance mechanism could not prevent the government decision that ultimately destroyed Koko’s business model.

    MIGA’s guarantee was supposed to enable Koko to expand to serve three million additional customers by December 2027, supporting Kenya’s clean cooking targets and climate commitments. That expansion plan now lies in ruins, along with the potential for billions of shillings in additional investment and the environmental benefits that would have flowed from displacing millions of tonnes of charcoal consumption.

    Founded in 2013 by entrepreneur Greg Murray to combat deforestation driven by charcoal production, Koko had raised over $100 million in debt and equity financing from investors including Mizuho Bank of Japan, Rand Merchant Bank of South Africa, France’s Mirova, and the Microsoft Climate Innovation Fund. The company was recognized in 2021 as the world’s leading emerging markets climate technology solution by the Financial Times and International Finance Corporation.

    The startup had been selected as a “Lighthouse” project by the African Carbon Markets Initiative precisely because of the high integrity of its carbon credits and the genuine development impact of its operations. Japanese trading giant ITOCHU had signed an emissions reductions purchase agreement to market Koko’s credits in Asian compliance markets.

    All of that promise has now evaporated in the span of 48 hours, destroyed by a government decision whose full rationale remains unclear. By press time, Koko Networks had not responded to requests for comment submitted through the company’s media portal. The Ministry of Environment and Climate Change also did not respond to inquiries about the reasons for rejecting the LOA application.

    The Koko collapse stands as a cautionary tale about the challenges of building climate technology businesses in emerging markets, where regulatory uncertainty and political risk can destroy even the most innovative and well-funded enterprises. For Kenya’s ambitions to become a leader in African carbon markets and attract climate finance, the episode sends a deeply troubling signal to investors who may now question whether the government is a reliable partner for carbon market development.

    As Koko’s automated fuel dispensing machines fall silent across Nairobi’s low-income neighborhoods and charcoal smoke begins rising once again from millions of cookstoves, the human and environmental costs of this regulatory failure will become impossible to ignore. What was supposed to be a model for using carbon markets to deliver clean energy access to Africa’s poor has instead become a stark reminder of how quickly political decisions can crush climate progress and entrepreneurial innovation.

    The government now faces mounting pressure to explain how it plans to support the 1.5 million households left stranded by Koko’s closure and what steps it will take to restore confidence among climate investors who are watching Kenya’s carbon market prospects with increasing skepticism.