Like the proverbial ostrich, we are burying our heads in the sand over Kenya’s public debt. We can hear the creditors approaching, feel the pressure in our pockets and see the strain on public services. Yet our political conversation remains preoccupied with who will occupy State House, join which coalition and deserve another term.
That debt has not become the organising question of the approaching election is a scandal. We debate the tenants while avoiding the mortgage. “Wantam” and “tutam” may be convenient rallying cries, but neither explains how Kenya will finance its future, account for past borrowing or prevent the next administration from deepening the hole.
The figures are worrying. By June 2026, Kenya’s public debt stood at Sh13.12 trillion: Sh7.33 trillion domestic and Sh5.79 trillion external, according to the National Treasury. Between September 2022 and July 2026, it rose by about Sh4.53 trillion, an average of Sh3.23 billion a day.
The cost is equally disturbing. Treasury recorded Sh859.83 billion in domestic interest payments in the year to June 2026, while external debt service amounted to Sh716.10 billion. Such figures should interrupt every extravagant campaign promise, yet the elite reduce their quest for power to slogans and promises.
Before announcing another programme, politicians should explain what remains after existing obligations are met. For every Sh100 collected, only Sh30 is left to run the country. Promises of better hospitals, affordable education or jobs must therefore come with an account of how they will be funded. Otherwise, manifestos become invitations to borrow against citizens who have barely recovered from the last.
Safina’s Jimi Wanjigi has at least put a proposition on the table. He says Kenyans should not repay what he describes as odious debt and has proposed suspending payments and commissioning a forensic audit to establish which obligations were lawfully incurred and where the money went.
Safina Party Leader Jimi Wanjigi during an interview at his Kwacha House offices in Nairobi on October 8, 2025.
Photo credit: Evans Habil | Nation Media Group
Wanjigi’s claims require evidence and his remedy scrutiny. Calling a debt odious does not extinguish it. The legal basis for repudiating particular obligations must be established and the economic consequences assessed. But dismissing him without addressing the substance would allow others to hide behind comfortable generalities.
We need more perspectives. Silence is neither rebuttal nor economic policy. Too many politicians appear unwilling or unable to confront these questions. They speak fluently about electoral arithmetic and vaguely about fiscal arithmetic. They can calculate the value of a running mate, regional alliance or defecting governor. Ask how their promises fit within Kenya’s debt obligations, and the confidence evaporates.
The governing side must explain the borrowing it undertakes and debts it services. Those seeking to replace William Ruto must explain what they would change. An opposition promising relief without confronting debt offers an incomplete bargain; a government promising development without explaining the bill asks citizens to surrender their judgment.
Our predicament has an elite history. Political leaders have sold borrowing as proof of ambition and national greatness. Projects are flaunted as evidence of growth, while their financing terms, procurement margins, repayment schedules and opportunity costs remain less visible. William Ruto was angry after Edwin Sifuna questioned the Dangote Refinery agreement and taxpayer obligations. Uhuru Kenyatta similarly reacted to questions over the Standard Gauge Railway loans.
Borrowing can finance necessary investment: a productive railway, power system, water network or road can benefit generations. But it can also finance corruption. The existence of a project, such as the Mau Summit road, does not establish whether its price was reasonable or its financing affordable.
Our political elite have mastered hostility when questioned about projects and debts. Ask about a contract and you are accused by bloggers of opposing development. Question the cost and you supposedly dislike the president. Demand the paperwork and someone says your community wants the government to fail. Economic accountability is thus swallowed by the familiar politics of belonging.
Their borrowing becomes our achievement when the ribbon is cut and our obligation when repayment falls due. Citizens who never negotiated the loan are told to demonstrate patriotism by accepting the consequences. How much are we paying for SGR, and how much have we paid against its original cost?
Changing the occupant of State House cannot by itself resolve the crisis. Debt, like a landmine, survives electoral defeat and continues to affect future generations. Interest does not stop because a former minister joins the opposition, nor do creditors cancel obligations because their political sponsors now claim to stand with the people.
Responsibility becomes the preserve of the current government, even when those promising rescue helped construct the system from which we need rescuing.
President William Ruto addresses residents at Nyamasaria after commissioning the Sh8.4 billion Lake Victoria Water and Sanitation Project on September 14, 2026.
Photo credit: Boniface Mwangi | Nation Media Group
Coalition negotiations should concern more than sharing offices. Before agreeing who gets which ministry, leaders should agree on what happens to the debt and how they will protect those financing government. Otherwise, their unity is simply an arrangement for sharing authority over a country whose financial freedom keeps shrinking.
We argue passionately about which elite deserves power while leaving unanswered who will finance its mistakes. We discuss expensive government as though it were a habit rather than a series of choices. That is the cruelty of our silence: we ask ordinary Kenyans to tighten their belts without examining who loosened the public purse.
More than half the debt recorded in June was domestic, raising questions about banks, savings and pension funds. Any suspension or restructuring must explain how ordinary savers would be protected. Those advocating continued payment must show how it can be sustained without indefinitely sacrificing essential services. Those seeking restructuring must identify the obligations and terms they would negotiate, while those advocating repudiation must identify disputed debts, provide evidence and explain the legal and economic route.
A credible audit should follow each loan from authorisation to disbursement, expenditure and repayment. It should link borrowing to actual projects, since the Constitution does not allow borrowing for recurrent expenditure, and identify those responsible. Publishing the total is useful, but citizens also need to know how it was assembled and what public value remains.
An audit must also lead somewhere. If it establishes wrongdoing, there should be recovery, legal action and reforms to prevent repetition. Kenyans should not pay for another elaborate report merely describing how they were made to pay.
Parliament should make this work unavoidable. MPs should demand accessible loan records, examine financing arrangements and pursue public audit findings. Oversight must extend beyond dramatic committee appearances that produce headlines but little follow-through.
The scandal extends beyond borrowing. Controller of Budget Margaret Nyakang’o has said her office lacks visibility over spending from funds and levies held outside the Consolidated Fund. “No visibility at all,” she said.
Kenyans are being asked to pay more while a constitutional oversight office cannot fully track how some of their money is spent. Before asking citizens to finance another promise, explain what happened to the money already collected.
The media, too, must stop treating debt as a specialist issue apart from politics. Every promise of cheaper living, better services or economic transformation belongs beside a question about financing. Every candidate seeking national office should face sustained scrutiny of the debt position they would inherit and the choices they would make.
We cannot bury our heads in campaign sand and imagine the debt will disappear. Whether we shout “wantam”, “tutam” or “notam”, the bill will arrive. Unless we force debt into the centre of this election, we risk choosing who presides over our diminishing options while congratulating ourselves that we have chosen our future.
