Category: Business Daily

Kenya stands on the cusp of a remarkable opportunity in its economic partnership with China. For years, Beijing has been one of Nairobi’s most significant trading partners, a key financier of infrastructure projects, and an enabler of industrial transformation.

While the trade balance has long tilted in China’s favour, largely due to Kenya’s heavy importation of machinery, construction materials, and manufactured goods, the story is not one of inequality but of potential.

Now, with China having announced preferential tariff treatment for African countries, including Kenya, there is a genuine chance to turn this long-standing relationship into a more balanced and mutually beneficial partnership.

Recent figures from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS) show that China’s trade surplus with Kenya rose to about Sh295 billion in the first half of 2025. Imports from China reached over Sh304 billion, while exports from Kenya fell to just under Sh9 billion.

On the surface, these numbers appear worrying. Yet they also reflect Kenya’s continued reliance on Chinese technology, which has powered much of the country’s modernisation, from the standard gauge railway to digital connectivity and industrial development.

The challenge now is not to limit imports but to expand exports, turning the relationship from one of dependency into reciprocity.

China’s recent announcement of preferential tariff treatment for African countries, which includes a wide range of Kenyan products, offers a timely and transformative solution.

Under this initiative, key agricultural exports such as tea, coffee, avocados, and cut flowers will enjoy duty-free access to the Chinese market. For a nation whose economy still draws strength from agriculture, this development is more than a diplomatic gesture-it is an open invitation to scale up production, improve quality, and tap into one of the largest consumer markets in the world.

The Chinese market is not only vast but increasingly sophisticated. A growing middle class is demanding premium, organic, and ethically sourced products. Kenyan goods enjoy a strong reputation globally for their purity and quality, making this a natural match. With tariff barriers lifted, Kenyan exporters now have a direct path to reach consumers who value authenticity and sustainability.

To fully benefit, however, Kenya must prepare for this new phase. Tariff removal alone will not guarantee export growth. The country must enhance production capacity, maintain strict quality standards, and ensure compliance with China’s import requirements.

This means investing in agricultural technology, farmer training, and product certification. It also requires efficient logistics-from cold storage to transport-to meet international standards.

Kenyan exporters should see China not just as a distant market but as a partner in improving standards and competitiveness.

Equally vital is the need to move beyond raw exports. For decades, Kenya’s export basket has been dominated by unprocessed goods that fetch lower global prices. The time has come to shift toward value-added products-blended teas, roasted coffee, processed avocado oil, and branded macadamia snacks.

Exporting finished products would allow Kenya to capture more value domestically, create jobs, and strengthen rural industries. China’s own journey from a raw material exporter to a manufacturing powerhouse offers valuable lessons Kenya can adapt to its local context.

There is also immense potential for deeper industrial cooperation. Rather than viewing Chinese imports as competition, Kenya can see them as catalysts for growth.

Joint ventures between Chinese and Kenyan enterprises could facilitate technology transfer, enhance skills, and boost productivity.

Collaboration in agro-processing, light manufacturing, and e-commerce could open new markets. Digital platforms such as Alibaba and JD.com already provide avenues for African goods to reach Chinese consumers directly. Kenya should leverage these to promote its agricultural and craft products to a fast-growing, quality-conscious audience.

Infrastructure remains central to export success. Thanks to China’s partnership through the Belt and Road Initiative, Kenya now enjoys modern ports, railways, and highways that can support expanded trade.

The next step is to refine logistics by improving customs efficiency, expanding cold-chain capacity, and streamlining cargo handling at ports and airports. These upgrades will make exports more competitive and reliable.

Policy alignment is equally crucial. Kenya must accelerate its Integrated National Export Development and Promotion Strategy, emphasizing diversification and product quality.

Establishing permanent trade offices in Chinese cities such as Guangzhou, Hunan, and Fujian could help exporters understand market trends and build lasting partnerships. These efforts would convert diplomatic goodwill into measurable economic progress.

It is important to recognise that China’s preferential tariff treatment reflects a spirit of partnership, not charity. It embodies Beijing’s vision of shared growth with Africa-an understanding that mutual prosperity benefits both sides. A stronger Kenyan export sector complements China’s interest in stable, growing African economies.

This gesture of openness underscores China’s long-term commitment to cooperation and balanced development.

Kenya must seize this moment. The widening trade deficit should not be seen as a weakness but as a call to action-to produce more, innovate more, and trade smarter.

By embracing value addition, fostering industrial collaboration, and aligning policy with opportunity, Kenya can bridge the trade gap not through confrontation but through cooperation.

China has extended a hand of partnership; it is now up to Kenya to grasp it firmly. With strategic investment, discipline, and creativity, this preferential tariff treatment could mark the beginning of a new era-one where trade between Kenya and China reflects not imbalance, but shared progress, mutual respect, and lasting prosperity.

In Kenya today, media isn’t just entertainment-it’s the heartbeat of youth culture. It’s the Gengetone beat pulsing through TikTok dances, the graffiti on matatus turning public transport into a gallery, the viral YouTube skits that echo our humour, and the Showmax series that finally reflect our lives on screen.

For a generation raised online, content is currency. It’s how we express ourselves, connect, and dream.

But behind this cultural boom, a quiet theft is unfolding. Piracy is bleeding our creative economy dry. And the most painful truth? It’s not faceless hackers or shadowy syndicates doing the damage. It’s us.

Every time we stream a pirated link, repost a TikTok without credit, or download a movie from a sketchy site, we’re not just breaking the law-we’re breaking the backs of the very creators we claim to support. It feels harmless. Convenient. Even justified. After all, who wants to pay for something they can get for free?

But here’s what that ‘free’ costs: a filmmaker in Kisumu goes unpaid. A dancer in Mombasa loses recognition. A podcaster in Nairobi misses out on sponsorship.

Every stolen view is a stolen opportunity. And when those opportunities vanish, so do the stories, the beats, the voices that make Kenyan culture so electric.

Globally, digital piracy costs the media and entertainment industry over $75 billion annually, with projections pushing that number to $125 billion by 2028. More than 229 billion visits to piracy websites were recorded in 2023 alone, with Gen Z and millennials contributing to over 70percent of those visits. This isn’t just a global problem-it’s a generational one.

And Kenya is not immune. Our creative economy, though still emerging, is already a vital part of our national identity and economic potential.

According to the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics, the creative sector employs over 1.5 million youth, accounting for approximately 10 percent of total youth employment. Yet despite this promise, the sector remains heavily informal, fragmented, and vulnerable to exploitation.

In 2023, Kenya’s creative economy contributed 0.2percent to GDP and 0.25percent of total wage employment. Those numbers may seem small, but they represent a foundation that could grow exponentially-if protected. With 75percent of Kenya’s population now under the age of 35, the creative industry is not just a niche-it’s a national opportunity.

Platforms like Showmax have given Kenyan stories a stage. But piracy threatens all of this. Every illegal download chips away at the foundation of our creative economy. It tells our artists their work isn’t worth paying for. It tells our youth that shortcuts are acceptable. It tells our culture that it’s disposable.

This isn’t just a legal issue. It’s a moral one. If you love Kenyan content-if you share that TikTok skit, stream that Gengetone anthem, binge that Showmax drama-then you have a responsibility. Protect what you love.

Stream from legitimate platforms. Pay for subscriptions. Refuse to share pirated links. Report illegal uploads. Support campaigns like Partners Against Piracy (PAP) that fight for creators’ rights.

Because every time you choose legit content over a pirated version, you’re investing in Kenyan talent. You’re saying yes to a future where our stories are told, our voices are heard, and our culture thrives.

And the stakes are high. Piracy doesn’t just hurt creators-it hurts the economy. In Kenya, where 43percent of youth are unemployed, protecting creative jobs isn’t optional-it’s urgent.

In Kenya today, media isn’t just entertainment-it’s the heartbeat of youth culture. It’s the Gengetone beat pulsing through TikTok dances, the graffiti on matatus turning public transport into a gallery, the viral YouTube skits that echo our humour, and the Showmax series that finally reflect our lives on screen.

For a generation raised online, content is currency. It’s how we express ourselves, connect, and dream.

But behind this cultural boom, a quiet theft is unfolding. Piracy is bleeding our creative economy dry. And the most painful truth? It’s not faceless hackers or shadowy syndicates doing the damage. It’s us.

Every time we stream a pirated link, repost a TikTok without credit, or download a movie from a sketchy site, we’re not just breaking the law-we’re breaking the backs of the very creators we claim to support. It feels harmless. Convenient. Even justified. After all, who wants to pay for something they can get for free?

But here’s what that ‘free’ costs: a filmmaker in Kisumu goes unpaid. A dancer in Mombasa loses recognition. A podcaster in Nairobi misses out on sponsorship.

Every stolen view is a stolen opportunity. And when those opportunities vanish, so do the stories, the beats, the voices that make Kenyan culture so electric.

Globally, digital piracy costs the media and entertainment industry over $75 billion annually, with projections pushing that number to $125 billion by 2028. More than 229 billion visits to piracy websites were recorded in 2023 alone, with Gen Z and millennials contributing to over 70percent of those visits. This isn’t just a global problem-it’s a generational one.

And Kenya is not immune. Our creative economy, though still emerging, is already a vital part of our national identity and economic potential.

According to the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics, the creative sector employs over 1.5 million youth, accounting for approximately 10 percent of total youth employment. Yet despite this promise, the sector remains heavily informal, fragmented, and vulnerable to exploitation.

In 2023, Kenya’s creative economy contributed 0.2percent to GDP and 0.25percent of total wage employment. Those numbers may seem small, but they represent a foundation that could grow exponentially-if protected. With 75percent of Kenya’s population now under the age of 35, the creative industry is not just a niche-it’s a national opportunity.

Platforms like Showmax have given Kenyan stories a stage. But piracy threatens all of this. Every illegal download chips away at the foundation of our creative economy. It tells our artists their work isn’t worth paying for. It tells our youth that shortcuts are acceptable. It tells our culture that it’s disposable.

This isn’t just a legal issue. It’s a moral one. If you love Kenyan content-if you share that TikTok skit, stream that Gengetone anthem, binge that Showmax drama-then you have a responsibility. Protect what you love.

Stream from legitimate platforms. Pay for subscriptions. Refuse to share pirated links. Report illegal uploads. Support campaigns like Partners Against Piracy (PAP) that fight for creators’ rights.

Because every time you choose legit content over a pirated version, you’re investing in Kenyan talent. You’re saying yes to a future where our stories are told, our voices are heard, and our culture thrives.

And the stakes are high. Piracy doesn’t just hurt creators-it hurts the economy. In Kenya, where 43percent of youth are unemployed, protecting creative jobs isn’t optional-it’s urgent.

Mobile phones have emerged as the most frequently under-declared items arriving at Eldoret International Airport, which has become a key gateway for consolidated cargo brought in by small-scale traders largely importing goods from Dubai and China.

Undeclared imported goods mean items that have not been properly reported or declared to customs agencies upon import. They may include items that are completely hidden or simply have incorrect information, such as a lower value, in an effort to avoid paying duties or taxes.

The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) has reported repeat cases of traders attempting to disguise new mobile phones as refurbished ones in a bid to reduce the declared value and lower payable taxes.

‘We have encountered several cases where traders classify both new and refurbished mobile phones under the same category. We can easily tell the difference because new phones cannot be treated as refurbished ones. The valuation is different, and that determines the correct taxes to be paid,’ Abdi Malik Hussein, KRA’s Chief Manager for Customs and Border Control in the Rift Valley and North Rift region, said.

‘Some mobile phone consignments arrive with unfamiliar brand names. Even after taxes are paid, agencies such as the Kenya Bureau of Standards (Kebs) and the Anti-Counterfeit Authority must verify that the products meet national requirements.’

The KRA bases its taxation on the customs value of imported goods, meaning that a new device attracts a higher duty than a used one because of the higher unit price. While tax rates remain constant, the total payable amount varies with declared value.

Importers of mobile phones into Kenya pay a duty of 25 percent, an excise tax of 10 percent on the customs value, and a 16 percent Value Added Tax (VAT) applied on the total of the customs value plus the import and excise duties. ‘We have encountered several cases where traders classify both new and refurbished mobile phones under the same category. We can easily tell the difference because new phones cannot be treated as refurbished ones. The valuation is different, and that determines the correct taxes to be paid,’ Abdi Malik Hussein, KRA’s Chief Manager for Customs and Border Control in the Rift Valley and North Rift region, said.

‘Some mobile phone consignments arrive with unfamiliar brand names. Even after taxes are paid, agencies such as the Kenya Bureau of Standards (Kebs) and the Anti-Counterfeit Authority must verify that the products meet national requirements.’

The KRA bases its taxation on the customs value of imported goods, meaning that a new device attracts a higher duty than a used one because of the higher unit price. While tax rates remain constant, the total payable amount varies with declared value.

Importers of mobile phones into Kenya pay a duty of 25 percent, an excise tax of 10 percent on the customs value, and a 16 percent Value Added Tax (VAT) applied on the total of the customs value plus the import and excise duties.

The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA)’s vigorous pursuit of tax dues has put it at odds with Members of Parliament (MPs), who want the agency to soften its approach despite pressure to raise more revenue.

The aggressive stance saw MPs deny the taxman a request to change its name from the KRA to Kenya Revenue Service (KRS) as part of a planned rebrand, according to its board chairman, Ndiritu Muriithi.

The freeze on the name change is intended to give the taxman time to improve its relationship with taxpayers. The Tax Procedures Act, strengthened in recent years, empowers the KRA to pursue taxpayers aggressively, including by serving demand notices and freezing bank accounts.

‘There was a proposal (to change the name of KRA), but when the proposal went to Parliament, it was not passed,’ said Mr Muriithi.

‘In the debate, Members of Parliament said that it was not about the change of name but that a change in the culture of the organisation was needed to make KRA a service. I think that this is fair.’

Walking the talk

KRA first mulled a name change in 2021 as part of a rebranding strategy that would see the word ‘Authority’ dropped due to its connotations with command.

Former KRA chairman Francis Muthaura noted that KRA works for the people, hence the need for a rebrand that would align the role of the taxman with service delivery.

‘The term ‘Authority’ sometimes has connotations of command. Commanding is not the real role of KRA. We are the servants of the people, who are the taxpayers,’ he said.

Read: Why KRA is mulling name change in its rebrand plan

According to the general provisions relating to administrative penalties and offences, when a person commits an act or omission liable under a tax law, the KRA Commissioner is expected to either demand the penalty or prosecute the offence.

The KRA Commissioner notifies individuals in writing about the penalty demand, setting out the amount and the payment deadline.

The taxman says it is now making improvements to better its relationship with taxpayers as part of efforts to become a service even as it eyes a new attempt at the name change.

‘It’s about being customer-centric and actually walking the talk, the language of our letters, the way we communicate with our customers, and how we resolve problems,’ added Mr Muriithi.

‘Change is happening as we speak, and we are taking stock of where our culture is.’

Revenue targets

KRA remains under pressure to raise higher revenues from taxes by sealing loopholes that have allowed for tax evasion and avoidance, and expanding the tax base to hard-to-tax sectors such as agriculture and the digital economy.

KRA collected Sh2.42 trillion from taxes in the fiscal year ended June 2025, representing a growth rate of 5.7 percent from Sh2.2 trillion previously, as per data from the National Treasury.

The collections were, however, Sh76 billion below target as several tax heads underperformed estimates, including income tax, excise duty, and investment revenue.

KRA is expected to ramp up its collection to at least Sh2.75 trillion in the fiscal year to June 2026 and Sh2.99 trillion in the 2026/27 period.

The taxman’s citizens’ service delivery charter dictates that it treats customers with courtesy and respect, while proactively in responding to their problems.

The Central Bank of Kenya’s (CBK) introduction of the Kenya Shilling Overnight Interbank Average (Kesonia) as the new reference rate for variable-interest loans marks a pivotal moment for Kenya’s financial markets.

From 1 September 2025, all variable-rate loans have been priced as ‘Kesonia + K’, where K represents a margin based on the borrower’s risk profile, administrative costs, and other factors. By February 28, 2026 all existing variable-rate loans are expected to transition to this new structure.

For the first time, Kenya’s lending rates will be anchored to a transparent, market-determined benchmark that reflects the real cost of liquidity in the interbank market. Why CBK’s new loan model long overdueThis means that changes in monetary policy, whether tightening or easing, will now be transmitted swiftly and predictably through the financial system. In many ways, it represents Kenya’s most meaningful step yet toward establishing a market-based anchor for credit pricing.

However, the success of Kesonia will depend on how effectively the broader financial ecosystem supports it. For this new benchmark to achieve its full potential, Kenya must strengthen competition in the banking sector, enhance transparency, and improve credit information systems.

Borrowers should be able to move their loans between banks with ease, enabling them to benefit from more competitive pricing. Yet, today, the process remains cumbersome, particularly for loans secured by property.

The slow and often costly process of transferring property charges is a major obstacle to loan portability. Digitising the land registry would make it easier, cheaper and faster for borrowers to switch lender, driving greater competition and ensuring that rate changes are quickly passed on.

Transparency will also be critical. Every bank should clearly disclose both the prevailing Kesonia rate and the specific margin applied to each loan.

Borrowers deserve to know what drives their borrowing costs and to compare offers across lenders on an equal footing. Such openness would foster accountability and trust, two elements that have been missing in Kenya’s credit market for too long.

Equally important is the need to link pricing to credit ratings. Kenya’s financial system must evolve toward a model where individuals and SMEs can influence their borrowing costs through their own credit behaviour.

A borrower with a strong repayment history should enjoy a smaller margin, while higher-risk borrowers should pay more. This approach would reward financial discipline and provide a data-driven framework for lenders to assess and price risk fairly.

Kesonia also aligns Kenya with international best practice. Around the world, markets have shifted away from administratively set benchmarks toward transaction-based reference rates. Adoption of Kesonia places it firmly within that modern framework, where monetary policy is guided by real market signals rather than administrative directives.

The real challenge now lies in execution. Banks must embrace transparency and healthy competition. Borrowers must be empowered to understand and question the pricing of their loans. Regulators, in turn, must strengthen credit information systems, enforce disclosure standards, and maintain oversight to ensure that the spirit of reform is not lost.

If these elements align, Kesonia could finally deliver what the CBR never quite achieved, a clear, efficient, and predictable channel for monetary policy transmission, that benefits both lenders and borrowers. It would also restore confidence in the power of monetary policy as a genuine lever of economic stability.

Ultimately, this reform is more than a shift in interest rate calculation. It represents a cultural change, one that redefines how Kenya prices risk, rewards financial discipline, and ensures that CBK decisions are finally felt where they matter most: at the borrower’s desk.

Mountaineering is a divine passion to him. A return home to where he belongs. To everyone else, he is James Kagambi. To those who know the sound of crampons biting into ice, he is KG. His life has balanced the security of convention with the risk of passion.

The 65-year-old is a Kaimosi Teachers Training College alumnus, which should mean that, like many of his classmates, he would now be enjoying retirement after decades in the classroom. James, however, taught for only about five years before devoting himself to the mountains.

The passion later became a career spanning more than four decades, including summits of five of the seven highest peaks in the world.

His family, like many in the 1960s, believed in the safe path. Success was becoming a teacher or civil servant, a respectable job with a pension and the stability to raise a family. Mountains were for tourists. Hiking was for wazungu. For sons of peasant farmers, mountains were scenery, not a life’s work.

On the morning of May 12, 2022, KG placed the Kenyan flag on the roof of the world at 8,849 metres, becoming the first native East African citizen to summit Everest. It was a succinct moment of prayer and thanksgiving, disbelief and gratitude, carrying the flag of his country and representing the dreams of countless climbers.

‘People imagine you scream when you get there,’ he says. ‘But the truth is, you are too tired to scream. You are just grateful that you are alive. For me, it was a prayer of thanks, a moment of history, but also a moment of silence.’

In the 1980s, KG was a primary school teacher in Nyeri, posted to a small ‘forest school’ near the edge of Mount Kenya National Park. He taught five days a week, but his weekends were given to the outdoors.

‘I’d be in the forest every chance I got,’ he says. ‘Sometimes I’d see elephants, sometimes nothing at all. Being outdoors gave me a sense of freedom I couldn’t find anywhere else.’

His daily walks cut through fields and wooded areas. A deep connection with nature shaped his choices. ‘I loved the outdoors from the beginning,’ he says. ‘I could spend a whole day walking, just to see what was behind the next hill. When I later met mountains, it was like meeting a friend I had always been waiting for.’

As a teacher, his love of physical activity stood out in the teams he coached. He took pupils to district tournaments and trained athletes for provincial meets. ‘I put my all into teaching but I could feel my calling was somewhere else.’

He says he began ‘by accident,’ yet that accident took him to the roof of Africa more than 300 times. Yes, KG has summited Mount Kilimanjaro more than 300 times. To match his record, you would have to summit daily for almost a year. He has also spent 15 years in Chile’s remote ice fields, training generations of rangers and rescue teams. Sighting of snow

The transformation from rural schoolteacher to the first Kenyan on Everest is the story of a man who said yes to opportunity, kept moving when others stopped, and measured success not only by summits achieved, but by how many returned alive.

His first sighting of snow on Mount Kenya changed everything. ‘The first time I saw snow,’ he says, ‘I thought, ‘How can ice just sit on top of a mountain like that?’ I touched it, and I knew – this is where I belong.’ He returned often, learning the terrain and tagging along with visiting climbers. At first, he was an oddity: a Kenyan teacher wanting to climb with foreigners.

It is Laozi, the ancient Chinese sage who once said, ‘When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.’ During a school holiday, he joined friends on a climb. At Point Lenana, touching snow made him come alive. ‘On my way down, I knew there was something there for me. I didn’t know what yet, but I knew.’

A year later, he enrolled in a rock-climbing course run by the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS). ‘I’d never been on a real rock face before. But once I started, it felt natural,’ he says. At the end, the instructors offered him a job. He declined, wanting to coach his school sports teams at nationals. ‘But in my heart, I knew I’d be back.’

His decision to resign from teaching in 1987 shocked his family. ‘My dad was a teacher. Most of my brothers and sisters were teachers or married to teachers,’ KG says. ‘When I told people I was serious about mountaineering, they laughed.’

”Hiyo si kazi ya mtu amesoma.’ (That’s not work for an educated person.) They thought I had lost direction.’ The ridicule only strengthened his resolve. He used his modest teacher’s salary to buy basic gear and train relentlessly.

On weekends and holidays, he climbed. He endured blisters, thin air, and failure – but also tasted freedom he had never known in classrooms.

He started as an assistant instructor, earning far less than he did teaching. His learning was fast: glacier travel, rope systems, avalanche safety, leadership under pressure. On free days he would travel to Naivasha to he climbed rock faces at Hell’s Gate National Park, building a reputation for skill.

He wanted to prove that a Kenyan could lead, not just carry loads. ‘People doubted me. They looked at me and wondered what an African was doing in such spaces. The mountain doesn’t care about your passport. It only cares about how well you prepare.’

His new lifestyle also shaped his family life. He married later than his peers and missed much of his children’s early years. ‘I didn’t have much time with my children when they were young. My wife did most of the parenting.’ Only Covid-19 slowed him down. Before the pandemic, the longest he stayed continuously in Kenya was two weeks. ‘I’d be here for a short break, then off to another mountain somewhere in the world.’

The mountain decides

Over the years, KG became one of NOLS’ most trusted instructors. He taught across North and South America, including the Rockies, the Cascades, Alaska, and the Himalayas. Chile became his second home. From 1999 to 2016, he spent up to six months a year in Patagonia, teaching mountaineering and leadership.

The Patagonia region is characterised by jagged peaks, roaring winds and glaciers stretching beyond the horizon. There are few places on Earth that are as rugged or demanding. It was here that KG honed his skills, teaching young climbers and future guides how to survive and thrive in the wilderness.

‘Patagonia taught me patience. The weather changes five times in a day. You prepare, but the mountain decides.’

He typically taught about thirty students per expedition, travelling by foot, ferry, or small plane into remote wilderness. Many peaks had never been climbed. ‘The mountains aren’t tall like the Himalayas, but they’re wild. You can spend days just getting to the base of a climb.’

The environment was a teacher as much as he was. Storms trapped teams for days. Glaciers shifted underfoot. ‘I learned to adapt to situations. It stretched my patience. Patience is not something I was known for.’

Some locals had never seen a Black person. ‘Children would try to rub my skin off,’ he laughs. He received generosity rather than hostility. ‘Sometimes they’d slaughter a cow in my honour, feed us for days.’ He eventually trained more than a thousand climbers in glacier travel, ice techniques, rescue, and outdoor leadership.

One student told him, ‘You’ve changed how I see Africa. I didn’t know there were climbers like you.’ He understood that every climb was representation. ‘I wasn’t just James. I was Kenya. I was Africa.’ His years in Chile strained family ties. ‘Sometimes I would come back after months, and I could see in my family’s eyes that they wondered if I belonged to them or to the mountains.’ The work nonetheless gave him purpose. ‘I may not be rich,’ he says, ‘but I am wealthy in experience. I have lived on mountains that most people only dream of.’

KG had carved his name as one of the most respected African instructors in global mountaineering circles.

Back home, he helped improve safety on the region’s highest peaks. He helped form the first Mount Kenya Rescue Team, trained guides in the Rwenzori, and developed ranger programmes on Kilimanjaro. Mount Kenya gave him his first snow. Patagonia taught patience. Kilimanjaro stole his heart.

‘People ask me, ‘Don’t you get bored going up the same mountain?’ Every climb is different. The people are different. The weather is different. Even I am different.’ Kilimanjaro became his classroom. Guiding required vigilance.

As a guide, he has led groups of tourists from all over the world. CEOs, students, retirees, thrill-seekers up Africa’s highest peak. Each expedition brought its own challenges: altitude sickness, fatigue, fear.

‘Guiding is not about getting to the top yourself. It is about getting other people there safely. You have to watch them closely, read their bodies, listen to their breathing. A good guide knows when to push and when to say stop.’

His guiding philosophy is unwavering: ‘Summiting is optional, coming back alive is mandatory.’ That philosophy has saved lives. He always insists they turn back, sometimes against their will. ‘Some get angry at me for denying them the summit,’ he says. ‘But later, when they recover, they thank me. Because what use is a summit if you don’t come back?’

Beyond guiding, Kilimanjaro gave him a platform to mentor young Kenyan and Tanzanian guides, teaching skill, integrity, leadership, and humility. ‘A young porter once told me, ‘Baba, you are the reason I want to be a guide.’ That, to me, is bigger than any summit.’

Summiting Everest

For years, Everest lived in KG’s imagination as both a dream and a challenge. In 2022, he joined the Full Circle Everest Expedition, the first all-Black team to attempt the world’s highest mountain. ‘Here we were, Africans, African-Americans, Black climbers from different countries saying, ‘we belong here too.’ I knew if I made it, it would not be just my summit. It would be Kenya’s summit. It would be Africa’s summit.’ At sixty-two, he was older than most teammates. Everest tested every breath. ‘There were nights I thought, maybe I am too old for this,’ he says. ‘My body was tired. My lungs felt like they were on fire. But I remembered all the ridicule I had faced, all the sacrifices, all the years. I told myself: I am here now. I must finish. I felt Kenya on my shoulders; I carried my village, my country, and the whole of Africa. It was not just me standing there. It was all of us.’ The historic images travelled the world. In mountaineering history, it was a milestone.

Asked if he will retire, he responds: ‘Climbing is life. Even when I am old, I will still climb something, maybe not Everest, but a hill near home. Because mountains are where I meet myself.’

Hilton Hotels is expanding its presence in East Africa’s hospitality sector with a fresh addition to its portfolio, in response to the region’s growing appetite for lifestyle and experience-driven travel.

Set to open in Nairobi’s Lavington, Ava Hotel Nairobi, Tapestry Collection by Hilton will mark the brand’s debut in Kenya. Tapestry Collection by Hilton is a group of independent hotels operating under the name of the American hospitality giant. Hilton has scores of other brands licensed to hospitality investors around the world.

The China-led Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB) is lining up its first project in Kenya, just over a year after Nairobi became a fully paid-up member in efforts to the country’s bridge a Sh16.14 trillion infrastructure funding gap.

The Beijing-based AIIB has invited bids for a consultant to conduct a pre-feasibility study on upgrading the 243-kilometre Mau Summit-Malaba Highway into an access-controlled, tolled, four-lane road-marking its maiden activity in Kenya’s projects scene.

The answer is an emphatic Yes! Humans have tried to motorise almost everything from staircases to little old ladies, from shaving razors to food blenders, and numerous vehicles that move things about in warehouses.

But I suspect you mean those push-along wheeled baskets designed to telescope together in supermarket trolley parks – the ones invented by a store owner in the US in 1937.in hopes of wooing more customers (who mostly were not weightlifters) to buy more goods. The result was so successful that now every supermarket in the world uses them.

And in some places, they are not only motorised (for obvious reasons with electric motors, not petrol or diesel engines) – some are computerised to help guide the shopper to a selected aisle and lead the way to check-out.

There are even autonomous computerised ‘follow-me’ versions, and mobility-assistance scooters with a panier rack.

Industry uses electric pallet trucks and automated roll cages and order pickers, which are essentially motorised trolleys used in stock and delivery logistics.

And there are, of course, many hobbyists unable to resist the challenge of turning shopping trolleys into a motorsport, using anything from e-bike hub motors to motorcycle engines (perhaps in the interval between ride-on lawnmower grands prix).

So the ‘driving’ forces range from porterage to mobility/accessibility, to convenience, and DIY fun.adding the challenges for stability, braking, and steering. Battery weight, assured control, and attachment methods are important.

The results are numerous enough and fast enough to require traffic and safety laws in some places.and specific rules in supermarkets.

While on the subject, if you have ever wondered why some shopping trolleys are so difficult to steer, it is usually a problem with the ‘castor angle’ of their wheels. They need to be set at a specific angle to hold a straight line and be obedient to turns. The same applies to cars.