By Billy Mijungu

This was the week that the Rural and Urban Private Hospitals Association of Kenya raised the alarm that the Social Health Authority is crippling private, community, and faith based hospitals.

With over 700 members nationwide, their concerns highlight the urgent need to rethink SHA’s role in our healthcare system. Hospitals are struggling under delayed reimbursements and that is a clear pointer to who truly sustains the system.

Despite a directive to pay on the 14th of every month, SHA continues to stall private healthcare. To date, claims worth Kshs 93 billion have been submitted, but only Kshs 50 billion, just 53 percent, has been reimbursed, leaving Kshs 43 billion in unpaid liabilities. This is concerning considering that money is going into private entities that prioritize profit before healthcare.

SHA’s publication of reimbursement data lacks crucial context. Without showing total claims and payout ratios, the numbers cannot serve as a genuine measure of transparency. Regardless of how they are presented, those numbers mean something for a nation conscious of public health.

Meanwhile, primary healthcare reimbursements in pilot counties remain unpaid. This is virtually free money considering it is a basic service that public hospitals can handle with ease. Such failure undermines the credibility of free primary healthcare both at the SHA level and at the hospital level.

Claims of arbitrary deletions and downgrading of facilities on the SHA portal, despite valid licenses, violate Gazette Notices like No. 269 of 2021 as well as constitutional safeguards of due process. This would not be the case if it were solely a public sector driven agenda.

Health will continue to suffer because of a lack of confidence building. The system has created mistrust and inefficiency at the frontline of healthcare delivery, especially for private hospitals. This is one more reason why they need to exit a public space that was only meant to facilitate rather than depend on them.

The crisis in the private sector is compounded by the hangover of NHIF arrears that once kept them afloat. One hundred and sixty eight days after the President directed that all pending bills be cleared, hospitals are still waiting. They must now wait longer and should retire from competing with the public sector. Their objectives are worlds apart and they do not complement each other.

NHIF is owed Kshs 33 billion, and SHA liabilities now stand at Kshs 43 billion, a staggering Kshs 76 billion in total that could have done more for the public sector. These unpaid debts have left facilities on the brink of insolvency, a clear sign they are sustained by the public sector. This threatens the sustainability of essential services for those who should otherwise afford private hospitals. It is more reason for a call to draw distinct lines, with collaboration but not dependency.

To make matters worse, private hospitals, which deliver half of Kenya’s health services, are in that position only because of State choice. Government is complicit in this mess because it controls resources that define the entire health environment. As they face blatant discrimination, with legitimate claims trapped in endless medical reviews lasting months, private facilities suffer in a way that would not occur in public hospitals.

The tragedy is not just in unpaid bills but in the squandered opportunity for government to improve public healthcare. The Kshs 93 billion in claims could already have transformed Kenya’s public health system into a world class model. With that amount, the country could build and equip several hospitals on the scale of Kenyatta National Hospital in every region so that Kenyans would no longer need to travel to Nairobi for specialized care.

It could modernize all county referral hospitals, ensure that each has CT scans and MRI machines, expand intensive care units, and keep essential medicines permanently in stock. That level of investment could also finance a massive training program for specialists, including oncologists, neurosurgeons, and cardiologists. It could stem the brain drain of doctors leaving for better opportunities abroad and position Kenya as a regional hub for advanced medical care.

It would mean Kenyans no longer have to fly to India or South Africa for treatment because the expertise and technology would be available here at home. Most importantly, such investment would make it possible to retire private medical schemes for civil servants which consume billions every year and fuel elitism within the State. These schemes create a privileged class separated from ordinary citizens who must endure long queues in underfunded hospitals while the private sector continues to bleed the public system.

Redirecting resources into a strong, efficient, and well resourced public health system would close this gap and guarantee equal access to quality care for all. If properly managed, Kenyans could enjoy a system where world class treatment is the standard, not the exception, and where every citizen, regardless of income or status, can trust public hospitals with their health and dignity. The money is there; what is missing is accountability, prioritization, and political will.

The truth is that if SHA cannot pay promptly and fairly, it should be confined to public hospitals. Private, community, and faith based facilities require a framework that respects their investments and sustains their services without unnecessary bureaucratic sabotage. SHA was meant to anchor universal health coverage, but it cannot succeed by bankrupting half the system simply because of an organized private sector competing against the public sector that SHA was created to strengthen.

Kenya needs a sustainable financing model that treats private providers as partners, not adversaries, but without dependency on public funds. If private hospitals collapse, the public sector will only grow stronger owing to the vast resources available to it. This does not mean collapse of healthcare for millions of Kenyans. On the contrary, the dream of universal health coverage will finally be achieved and not remain an empty promise.

Lastly of all sectors, why is it only Healthcare that is partly privatised by the state ? Government actively Subsidises private sector.

By Donald Agwenge

On 17th August 2020, Senator Mutula Kilonzo Jnr told Senator Moses Kajwang to “keep your cool boy, this is not a laughing matter, sit down and listen to wisdom.” Exactly five years later, my senator has once again lost his cool. He struts with hollow braggadocio that Parliament is powerful enough to impeach the president, while the president cannot touch a sitting member of Parliament. He is wrong, and this is another moment to sit down and listen to wisdom.

President William Ruto has boldly declared Parliament a corruption zone and a house of extortion. He has thrown MPs under the bus, and the Parliament of Owls has responded with predictable buffoonery. They have threatened to slow down the government’s agenda, summon and harass top officials, and even imagine impeaching the president in their wildest dreams. Yet MPs themselves have admitted that bribery thrives in their ranks, with some confessing colleagues can be bought for as little as ten thousand shillings, cheaper than a pig and a Merino sheep. Ruto has merely confirmed what Kenyans, especially Gen Z, concluded on 25th June last year when Parliament betrayed the people by passing the punitive Finance Bill.

The counterattack has already begun. For the first time, a Parliamentary Group meeting was aired live on television, where the president and his Baba used the moment to lecture MPs and bring them back to order. In doing so, Ruto distanced himself from Adipo Sidang’s image of King Tula Nyongoro in Parliament of Owls. That dishonour now rests with the two speakers of Parliament, presiding over a House of voracious owls condemned by the people and shamed by the head of state.

Their reaction is not surprising. Around the world, legislatures accused of corruption react the same way. In Nigeria, President Olusegun Obasanjo accused parliament of graft. The MPs, as unpopular as ours, tried to intimidate him with impeachment but failed miserably. They then blocked budgets and demanded concessions. Ruto should expect this tit-for-tat political brinkmanship. In the 1950s, Harry Truman called the U.S. Congress “do-nothing and corrupt.” They retaliated by slowing down his agenda and dragging his officials before committees. Dilma Rousseff in Brazil and Roh Moo-hyun in South Korea also condemned their parliaments, and both faced impeachment.

Truman did not face impeachment but saw his approval ratings sink and he chose not to run again. The others lost office, but history remembers them for daring to speak out. Is this President Ruto’s wildcard? To risk his re-election in order to confront corruption at the highest level? He has always been a chess master and I don’t think he would lose against pigs at the feeding trough of August House gluttony. In a contest between Parliament on one hand and the presidency on the other, Kenyans will back him. A super majority already lost confidence in Parliament on 25th June.

President Ruto also holds a joker card. He can borrow from President Charles de Gaulle in France. In 1962, de Gaulle accused the French Parliament of obstruction and corruption. MPs there, like ours today, threatened to sabotage his agenda and talked of impeachment. He was ahead of them. He dissolved Parliament and called snap elections. The people rewarded him with a stronger mandate. When are you dissolving this parliament, Mr. President? Gen Z are ready to bring younger blood focused on their cardinal roles of legislation, representation and oversight, not bribe seekers.

Kenya’s Constitution provides the avenue in Article 261 that gives the president power to dissolve Parliament if it fails to discharge its obligations. Chief Justice David Maraga already issued an advisory on this. The president therefore holds the power to send MPs home within ninety days. Senator Kajwang’s empty swagger that “the president can do nothing to them” will soon be proved as either ignorance or the deliberate deception of a drowning man clutching at straws.

Parliament’s perfidy last June sealed its fate. On that day, MPs chose stomachs that never get full over Kenyans, the real Tumbo Lisiloshiba. Kenyans saw clearly that the problem is not the people but the gluttons who pretend to lead them. Even the youth, often hostile to Ruto, agree with him this time. We are products of classrooms where we read Imbuga, Ngũgĩ, Achebe and Mazrui. They told us betrayal and greed would define our politics. What we are living now is betrayal writ large, a Parliament of extortionists feeding on the nation while pretending to serve.

Between Ruto and Parliament, Kenyans have already chosen. He is not King Tula Nyongoro. That crown belongs to Speaker Wetang’ula and his counterpart in the Senate, who preside over the owls’ gluttony and their endless charade. Against them, the president has the people on his side.

Abraham Lincoln once said “you can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but not all the people all the time.” On 25th June, Parliament discovered this the hard way. If President Ruto continues to hold up the mirror, history will remember him as the man who refused to play King Tula Nyongoro in Wetang’ula’s Parliament of Owls.

The writer is a Big Data Strategist. agwenge@nexsms.africa

By Edris Omondi Esq. Executive Director Crime Prevention Initiative Trust. cpitkenya@gmail.com

The recent issuance in a memo directing the sugar companies’ management to issue termination notices to the staffs of both Muhoroni Sugar Company and South Nyanza Sugar Company declaring them redundant was both ill-advised and untimely. PS Agriculture Dr. Paul Kipronoh Ronoh should be prevailed on, to revoke the same. This came at a time when the industry is already fragile and still locked in a slow-moving privatization process, this decision risks pushing thousands of breadwinners into poverty while further undermining an already weakened sector.

Kisumu Governor, Prof. Anyang’ Nyong’o, has rightfully warned that redundancy at this stage is the wrong step. I echo his sentiments. It is not only an economic misstep but a social injustice to families whose livelihoods have for decades been tied to the sugar industry.

Lessons from the Past:

In 2005, I participated in a study commissioned by ActionAid International and the UNFAO, under the leadership of Professor Qasim Shah, to examine the impact of sugar surges on rural livelihoods and food security. The findings remain relevant today.

Between 1995 and 2004, Kenya’s sugar imports surged sharply following trade liberalization and the removal of price controls. Imports grew from 65,000 tonnes in 1996 to nearly 250,000 tonnes by 2001. The result was devastating: direct employment in the sugar sector shrunk by 79%, with more than 32,000 people losing jobs. Close to 160,000 households across sugar-producing regions saw their incomes plummet, while the share of imported sugar in the domestic market ballooned from 31% to 41%.

This historical evidence shows us one thing: sugar sector mismanagement always translates directly into social crisis. Declaring redundancy now only repeats the same mistakes of the past, with even harsher consequences.

Why Redundancy is Ill-Advised:

Mass redundancy in sugar companies will not solve the sector’s underlying inefficiencies. Instead, it will:

• Erode livelihoods: Thousands of families in Nyanza depend on sugar factories, either directly or indirectly.

• Weaken rural economies: Reduced household incomes shrink local markets and increase poverty.

• Compromise food security: Heavy reliance on imported sugar makes Kenya vulnerable to global price shocks and cartels.

• Fuel social instability: Joblessness and frustration breed crime, rural-urban migration, and the breakdown of community structures.

What Other Countries Did Differently:

Kenya is not the first country to face a sugar industry crisis. Yet others have chosen reform over retrenchment:

• Mauritius transformed its sugar industry by diversifying into ethanol, co-generated electricity, and specialty sugars. Workers were retrained and absorbed, not discarded.

• India gave farmers and workers cooperative ownership stakes in sugar mills, ensuring reforms were people-driven.

• Brazil pivoted from sugar to bio-ethanol production, creating new industries while sustaining employment.

The lesson? Redundancy is not reform. Strategic restructuring, diversification, and re-skilling are the sustainable pathways.

The Right Path for Kenya:

Kenya can still reinvent its sugar industry without sacrificing livelihoods. The Government should pursue:

1. In the first instance work with the County Governments- since Agriculture is devolved and hence restructure joint committees that understudy the livelihood action impact.

• Restructuring Before Redundancy- Fix governance, modernize equipment, and improve efficiency before privatization, not after.

• Worker-to-Shareholder Transition – Convert workers into shareholders of privatized companies, as seen in cooperative models abroad.

• Product Diversification – Expand beyond sugar to ethanol, industrial alcohol, animal feed, and renewable energy (bagasse cogeneration).

• Re-skilling Programs – Prepare workers for roles in diversified industries rather than sending them home empty-handed.

• Gradual Retirement Options – Introduce voluntary exit packages and phased retirement instead of abrupt retrenchment.

Conclusion

Kenya’s sugar sector is not just about cane and factories; it is about families, food security, and the future of rural economies. Redundancy is a blunt instrument that punishes workers for failures not of their making.

As Kenya dives into the merit of privatization of the industry, let it be a people-centered privatization that secures livelihoods while building competitiveness. Other countries turned their sugar crises into opportunities. Kenya must not let its sugar belt collapse into despair.

The sweet future of sugar lies not in discarding workers, but in reinventing the industry around them.

By Billy Mijungu

The unity, goodwill and national pride that Harambee Stars have brought us through their performance at CHAN must not be allowed to dim. What we witnessed was not just a football tournament; it was a statement of possibility, resilience and the depth of potential that Kenya possesses. The boys stood tall, carried the flag high and injected hope into millions who, for a long time, had grown tired of disappointment. That kind of sacrifice and achievement must never be rewarded with poverty.

We must recognize that CHAN has given us more than goals and victories. It has given us a mirror of what this country can be when discipline, determination and belief come together. These young men must now be the face of Kenyan excellence. They should not go back to struggling with rent, hustling for allowances or disappearing into anonymity after giving us their best. They must be integrated into the economic fabric of the nation as symbols of success and ambassadors of Kenyan resilience.

This is where government, corporate Kenya and our people must rise. Football is more than a sport; it is a global industry worth billions. The Harambee Stars players have crossed the Rubicon; there is no going back to obscurity. Corporations must not wait to be begged. They must see in this team an opportunity to brand Kenya, to market products, to push tourism and to inspire investment. Imagine a Harambee Star as the face of Magical Kenya campaigns, another as the ambassador of a banking product, another fronting a telco brand. This is how we create value not just for the players, but for the country at large.

The government too has a duty that goes beyond handshakes and photo opportunities. Policy must deliberately carve out space for sports to be a real career, not a temporary pastime. That means structured contracts, retirement benefits, and health cover for every player who represents the national team. The government must work with federations and private sector to ensure the players never have to worry about where the next meal comes from. National duty must come with dignity.

CHAN performance must also inspire the next generation. Children across Kenya watched Harambee Stars defy odds, and in their eyes was born the hope that they too can achieve greatness. That hope must not be wasted. We need well-structured academies in every county, proper scouting networks, and sustained investment in grassroots football. Let the boys from Turkana, Kisii, Taita, Mandera and Busia know that if they work hard, they too can wear the Harambee Stars jersey and change their families’ fortunes forever.

We must also not ignore the psychological effect of this success. For too long, Kenya has been trapped in the narrative of failure in football. Now that the tide has shifted, it must be anchored. Confidence is a national resource, and these boys have injected it back into the bloodstream of our people. That confidence must flow into our schools, our streets, our offices and our homes.

If the players go back to poverty, the nation will have lost more than a game. We will have told our youth that even when you sacrifice everything and achieve greatness, the system will still fail you. But if we elevate these players, if we ensure they live dignified lives, then we will have planted a permanent seed of belief in the hearts of millions.

The Harambee Stars of CHAN must therefore be more than footballers. They must be national icons, economic beneficiaries, ambassadors of hope and examples of what Kenya can achieve when it dares to dream.