Category: Business Daily

Across Africa, the most consequential uses of AI do not look like a chatbot. They look like a forecast that warns a nutrition team months before a crisis, a satellite map that shows a planner how land use is changing, a drought assessment that reaches a ministry in time to act. Most of this work runs on data that has nothing to do with language: imagery, health records, weather.

Yet whether any of it changes a person’s decision often comes down to language. One in six people worldwide has now used a generative AI product, according to Microsoft’s 2025 AI Diffusion Report, and Africa has about 1.5 billion people and more than 1,500 languages, yet most AI models were trained mainly on English and a handful of other global tongues.

A farmer looking for planting advice in Dholuo, or a mother seeking health guidance in Amharic, may find that today’s systems cannot speak to them. Language is not everything in Africa’s AI story, but without it, everything else struggles to arrive.

Encouraging progress is being made, and much is led from within the continent. For example, LINGUA Africa, an initiative of the Masakhane African Languages Hub with the Gates Foundation, the Microsoft AI for Good Lab and Google.org, funds open datasets, speech resources and practical language tools. Its recent call, designed to strengthen the language foundations needed for inclusive AI in Africa, drew more than 800 applications from 64 countries, 85 percent of them African.

Yet fluency is not the same as usefulness. A system can answer a farmer in fluent Kikuyu and still provide a recommendation that makes no sense for the soil, the season or the family budget. Language opens the door, but trust depends on whether the advice reflects agriculture’s complex, local realities.

Data scarcity in Africa is not only a shortage of examples. It also means missing communities, outdated maps, and records that capture only the people who managed to reach a clinic. Train a model on data like that and it quietly inherits the same blind spots.

Locally led data collection, documentation and long-term stewardship deserve as much investment as the models themselves. At the same time, scarcity is no reason to stand still: African innovation should be designed to work in today’s conditions, rather than waiting for perfect datasets (and compute capabilities) that may never arrive.

For AI solutions to deliver lasting impact, local institutions must own their development, deployment and long-term stewardship.

As I argued recently in Nature Africa, the hardest part of AI is not the algorithm. Around 600 million people in sub-Saharan Africa still lack electricity, and connectivity, devices, skills and maintenance decide whether an impressive demonstration becomes a service people rely on every day. For Africa, these are not a distraction from the AI agenda; they are a large part of it.

We should aim for more than AI that speaks Africa’s languages. We need AI that reflects its realities, strengthens its institutions and helps people make better decisions. Language belongs at the centre of that ambition, alongside good data, earned trust and the capacity to act.

The writer leads the Africa team of the Microsoft AI for Good Lab in Nairobi and is a member of the UN Secretary-General’s Independent International Scientific Panel on AI.

When Mercy Akoth moved to Canada nearly three years ago, she quickly discovered that setting up a home away from Kenya came with unexpected costs, particularly when it came to decorating her living space.

Mercy, who works as a caregiver while pursuing a master’s degree in nursing at McGill University, has had to move house several times to accommodate her work and studies. Although her residences have not been far from the university, each move has meant finding ways to make her space comfortable and homely.

One of the first things she noticed was the difference in curtain options between Kenya and Canada. In Nairobi, curtains were readily available in countless designs, colours and fabrics. In Canada, however, she found the variety limited and the prices steep.

Outfitting a one-bedroom apartment could cost about $37 (Sh4,800) per metre, prompting her to look back home for solutions.

“I realised Kenya has a wider variety of curtains in different designs than what I was finding here. When I came back for the holidays last December, I decided to buy them from Kenya instead,” she says. “I travelled with them in my suitcase, but the airline charges were high.”

She paid about Sh9,800 in airline baggage fees to transport the 7-kilogram package of curtains.

Her experience reflects a growing trend among Kenyans in the diaspora who are turning to local retailers for home décor products.

Curtain sellers in Nairobi say overseas clients from Canada, the United States, Australia and the United Kingdom are becoming a steady part of their business.

Retailers attribute the appeal to variety, affordability and the ability for customers to choose fabrics and designs before the curtains are stitched and shipped. Kenya has also become a destination for buyers from other African countries, including Ghana and South Africa.

Most curtain fabrics are imported, primarily from China, and then customised locally to suit customers’ preferences.

At Dream Curtains on Tom Mboya Street, Head of Sales Dan Khaemba says diaspora clients have been a key market since he joined the business in 2023.

‘The clients we serve come from different countries. We recently delivered curtains to a Kenyan living in Australia, but we also have many clients in the United States,’ he says. The shop serves between three and five diaspora clients each month.

Social media has been central to this growth. Online platforms allow customers to browse designs, select materials and communicate directly with sellers before making payments. Still, building trust takes time.

‘Not everyone believes in online business. Some people send someone to confirm that we are genuine. Once they do, they become serious buyers,’ Khaemba explains.

Curtain demand also follows seasonal trends, with sales peaking between October and January. For diaspora clients, purchases often rise during winter, when people focus on making their homes warmer and more inviting.

Unlike local buyers, who often bargain, diaspora clients tend to prioritise quality and transparency. Payments are made through bank transfers or mobile money, with prices ranging from Sh350 to Sh1,800 per metre, depending on the material. Blackout curtains are particularly popular.

At Najibu Curtains, sales representative Mugoya Shakur says most of their overseas customers come from the United States and Canada.

‘The prices here are far more affordable than in those countries,’ he says. Curtains range from Sh350 to Sh2,000 per metre, serving both homes and businesses. Yet shipping can nearly double the overall cost. A client may buy curtains worth Sh300,000, but transport costs can add another Sh200,000.

Despite this, referrals continue to drive growth.

‘Most of the clients who purchase from us are referred by other Kenyans in the diaspora. If you do a good job, people will trust you,’ Shakur says.

Some clients combine curtain purchases with other Kenyan products, such as home décor items and African clothing, including vitenge, to maximise shipping.

At Suli Home Curtains, manager Lugendo Swaib says orders come from the UK, the US, Canada and African countries such as South Africa, Nigeria and Ghana.

‘They prefer curtains from Kenya because we offer a wide variety of colours and designs, as well as high-quality products,’ he says.

Unlike local buyers, who often shop seasonally, diaspora clients purchase throughout the year, often driven by new homes, construction projects or business ventures. Swaib says the shop receives at least 10 diaspora clients every month.

‘As long as you advertise well, you will always find clients purchasing curtains,’ he adds.

Some buyers even purchase in bulk to resell abroad, with prices typically ranging from Sh700 to Sh900 per metre.

Kenyan retailers say their competitive edge lies in customisation. Customers choose the material, which is then stitched, packaged and shipped. Depending on whether the order is sent by air or sea, delivery takes between seven and 21 days.

For many in the diaspora, curtains are more than functional household items. They are cultural touchstones, reminders of home and symbols of identity. The colours, textures and designs often evoke memories of Kenyan households, where curtains play a central role in interior décor.

Mercy recalls how the curtains in her childhood home were carefully chosen to match the furniture and wall colours.

‘In Kenya, curtains are part of the personality of a house. They make a home feel complete,’ she says.

Abroad, she found that curtains were often plain, functional and expensive, lacking the vibrancy she associated with home.

Retailers are keenly aware of this emotional connection. By giving diaspora clients the opportunity to select fabrics that resonate with their tastes, they are not just selling curtains but exporting pieces of Kenyan culture.

The business opportunity is significant. With more Kenyans moving abroad for work and study, demand for affordable, customised home décor is expected to grow. Retailers are already exploring partnerships with shipping companies to reduce costs and streamline delivery.

For now, the challenge remains balancing affordability with logistics. Shipping costs can sometimes outweigh the savings of buying curtains in Kenya. Yet many diaspora clients are willing to pay the extra cost for quality and familiarity.

As Mercy puts it, ‘It is not just about the curtains. It is about feeling at home, even when you are far away.’

‘I would stay awake most of the night, and even when she slept during the day, I could not sleep. In my mind, daytime was for being awake and night was for sleeping,’ she says.

‘I thought I was losing my mind.’

The exhaustion soon began to affect more than her energy. Selina developed brain fog, struggled with household chores and became increasingly irritable and emotionally drained. At her lowest point, she says, she even feared she might harm her child.

‘I completely lost sleep, and for a moment, I thought I was losing my mind.’

What confused her was that she was constantly tired. ‘I did not understand what was happening,’ she says.

It was only after she mentioned the problem during a routine clinic visit that a physician told her she was experiencing insomnia and advised her on ways to improve her sleep.

‘I was told to avoid coffee and other caffeinated drinks in the evening, to eat a lighter dinner, and of course, to keep to a regular sleeping routine,’ she says.

‘I even spent almost Sh20,000 on supplements, hoping they would help me sleep, but they didn’t work,’ she says.

Her sister then stepped in to help, recommending that she seek counselling in the hope that she would find a way to cope with the emotional exhaustion and demands of caring for the child.

‘It wasn’t something that changed immediately. I tried counselling because my sister was concerned and worried,’ she says.

She attended counselling for two months. This helped her to come to terms with her situation and reminded her to be gentler with herself, but her sleep problems persisted.

She spent about another three months searching for something that could help. Then her sister told her about a sleep therapist she had come across on TikTok.

After an intensive search, the therapist she chose recommended changes to her routine and sleeping environment. One of these was a blackout curtain.

‘Honestly, I had never heard of blackout curtains before. I went to Google and other social media platforms just to confirm this so that I wouldn’t waste my time on something that wouldn’t help me like the previous interventions,’ she says.

Another challenge was the environment in which they lived. She lives in a gated community where outdoor security lights remain on throughout the night, making it difficult to distinguish between day and night.

‘At night, there are always lights outside, so the bedroom is never completely dark,’ she says.

She remembers buying two metres for Sh7,000, but this did not solve the problem. Unfortunately, she had bought a partial blackout curtain that let in some light, and she had been overcharged.

Selina continued to wake up frequently, sometimes after an hour and a half. She bought another pair for Sh6,000, followed a sleep programme, and made other changes, and this time her sleep duration increased.

‘I also had to learn that if I had the opportunity to sleep during the day, I should take it. I couldn’t keep waiting for night,’ she says.

Three years later, the 38-year-old says her sleep has improved considerably. She can now sometimes sleep for five to seven hours without interruption, and her daughter also sleeps better, although with the help of stimulants.

‘It’s very different from how things were before. I am hoping to get eight to 10 hours of sleep at night and, of course, a good nap during the day,’ she says.

The circadian rhythm

Selina is one of many people who struggle to sleep due to various sleep disorders.

Sleep consultant Anisa Samnani says that darkness is one of the signals the body uses to prepare for sleep.

‘Darkness is an important cue for our body that it is time to sleep,’ she says.

The body has an internal clock known as the circadian rhythm, which responds to light and darkness. As darkness falls, the body increases its production of melatonin, the hormone that prepares the body for sleep.

‘Light sends a different message to the brain,’ says Anisa. ‘Bright light tells the brain that it is daytime,that we should be alert, while darkness signals that it is time to wind down and sleep.’

For someone sleeping during the day, sunlight can therefore interfere with sleep. Blackout curtains can help by reducing the amount of light entering the room.

‘Blackout curtains can make a meaningful difference, particularly because daytime sleepers are trying to sleep at a time when their environment is naturally bright and active,’ she says.

However, Anisa says that curtains are not a treatment for insomnia.

If someone is waking up due to sunlight coming through the window, streetlights, or household lighting, blocking that light could solve the problem. However, someone with ongoing insomnia may have other factors affecting their sleep that need to be addressed.

When buying blackout curtains, she advises people to check how much light gets through around the edges of the window. A curtain may be labelled as ‘blackout’ but still allow light in through gaps at the sides, top or bottom. An eye mask can also help if curtains alone are not enough.

‘I had expected the usual demands of caring for a newborn, but I was not prepared for caring for a child with special needs,’ she says.

Selina had endured 32 hours of labour, and her daughter appeared healthy at birth, crying immediately like most newborns. But eight months later, she was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, and their routine changed dramatically.

Top banks, including Equity Group, KCB Group, NCBA Group, Co-operative Bank and I and M Bank, face a shakeup in their expansion plans as the Central Bank of Kenya (CBK) moves to shield the lenders deemed ‘too big to fall’.

The CBK said in freshly published proposals that it will tighten its oversight of financial institutions whose collapse or distress could cause significant shockwaves across the wider economy.

‘Domestic systemically important financial institutions may be restricted from expanding their operations or introducing new products whose effect may enhance systemic risk of the bank.

The supervisory measures to be deployed on a domestic systemically important financial institution depend on the supervisor’s judgment as to the institution’s degree of systemic risk,’ states the draft framework for identification, regulation and supervision of domestic systemically important financial institutions.

‘Domestic systemically important financial institutions are financial institutions operating in one or more countries and whose disorderly failure would cause significant dislocations in the domestic or regional financial system and adverse economic consequences in the country or region.’

The proposed framework provides that the domestic systemically important financial institutions will be determined based on size, interconnectedness, substitutability, complexity and importance to the domestic economy.

Substitutability refers to a scenario whereby a domestic financial institution plays an important role in a specific business segment as a provider of market infrastructure such as a payment system and substitution by players may prove to be a challenge.

According to the proposals, the CBK will conduct an assessment of all licensees once every calendar year as at December 31, after which entities that are designated as domestic systemically important financial institutions will be notified by March 31 the following year and the list thereof published by June 30.

The sequential collapse of three banks in Kenya between 2014 and 2016 — Dubai Bank, Imperial Bank and Chase Bank — shook the country’s banking sector and impaired the interbank market following fears by large and well-capitalised banks that they could have suffered exposure by lending to smaller and less capitalised players.

Banks in Kenya have registered considerable growth over the past decade, characterised by acquisitions and product diversification, including venturing further into the fast-growing wealth management and bancassurance business.

The CBK’s proposed framework comes as Kenyan banks make further inroads into the East and Central Africa region, with at least seven having a regional footprint.

Equity Group has operations in Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Rwanda, South Sudan and Democratic Republic of Congo. KCB Group is present in the same markets plus Burundi.

Of KCB Group’s Sh2.3 trillion worth of assets, 31.3 percent is attributable to business units outside Kenya, as is 52.0 percent of Equity Group’s Sh2.2 trillion worth of assets.

NCBA Group has operations in Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Rwanda and Côte d’Ivoire; DTB has operations in Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania, while I and M Group has operations in Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, Uganda and Mauritius.

The CBK is also proposing a requirement for stronger capital buffers to be held by financial institutions deemed domestic systemically important to ensure that they are well positioned to withstand shocks and mitigate potential spillovers into the wider economy in the wake of distress.

Coming at a time when the banking sector is undergoing recapitalisation in the push for Sh10 billion worth of core capital by 2032, the regulator has also cited the need to ensure that no domestic systemically important financial institution requires a government bailout in the event of distress as a key reason behind the push for higher capital buffers.

‘In order to enhance the resilience of domestic systemically important financial institutions, the framework requires these banks to hold higher levels of capital through additional loss-absorbency requirements. These requirements aim to reduce the probability of domestic systemically important financial institutions’ failure, provide a buffer to absorb losses during periods of stress and limit the need for public sector support,” the CBK says.

Foreign banks operating in the country such as Absa, Stanbic and Standard Chartered, will also be on the radar of CBK for potentially being domestic systemically important financial institutions, upon which the market regulator in their parent jurisdictions will be informed.

‘In case a Kenyan subsidiary of a foreign bank is designated as a domestic systemically important financial institution, CBK shall engage the home regulator of the parent bank/bank holding company and the parent bank/bank holding company in assessing the adequacy of the domestic systemically important financial institution’s recovery and resolution plans,’ the CBK says.

A growing pool of public funds invested in interest-earning government securities is boosting the Treasury, even as it targets a total of Sh987.4 billion from the domestic market in the current fiscal year to June 2027.

New disclosures show that hundreds of billions of shillings, including the more than Sh300 billion seed capital of the newly created National Infrastructure Fund (NIF), is set to be pumped into government securities-boosting the Treasury’s prospects of reliable domestic capital to fund budget deficits, public operations, and national infrastructure.

The share of Treasury bonds and bills held by government entities, semi-autonomous agencies and public sector funds has crossed Sh500 billion, pointing to an expanding role for public institutions as investors in State debt.

The holdings by general government entities rose to Sh513.31 billion by August 28, 2026, up from Sh467.78 billion in June 2025, according to figures published by the Central Bank of Kenya (CBK).

The increase has coincided with the Treasury’s strategy to put surplus balances held by public entities to work rather than leave them idle in accounts at the CBK.

A policy by President William Ruto has since last year targeted surplus money held by State entities in commercial banks, widening the pool of funds available to finance domestic borrowing.

In submissions to Parliament in May 2025, the Treasury said it had introduced measures to invest idle balances of selected entities held at the CBK.

‘To reduce the cost of borrowing, the National Treasury has instituted measures that idle balances of selected entities domiciled at CBK not immediately required are invested in government securities under non-competitive terms,’ the Treasury said in a submission to Parliament in May 2025.

‘For public entities with bank accounts in commercial banks, a circular will be issued mandating direct investment of surplus balances in government securities, bypassing intermediaries and under non-competitive terms.’

The move marked a change in public cash management, with money awaiting expenditure being deliberately placed in interest-generating government debt rather than left idle.

One of the biggest pools of public money being positioned for such investment is the NIF, whose Sh310.3 billion seed capital is expected to generate billions of shillings before the cash is spent.

The NIF expects to earn about Sh42 billion annually from government securities, based on a projected return of 12.5 percent.

‘The yield we are expecting to get there is about 12.5 percent in annual return, and so we should be making just about Sh42 billion worth of income per year, so we are working with Sh40 billion as a benchmark,’ James Mworia, the chief executive officer of the NIF, said.

The approach allows the fund to earn income while preserving its principal for future infrastructure investment.

The NIF plans to finance highways, railways, airports, seaports, electricity, ICT, water reservoirs and agribusiness infrastructure, while using its capital to attract private investment.

The Fund, chaired by Treasury Cabinet Secretary John Mbadi, aims to mobilise as much as Sh5 trillion by leveraging its resources to crowd in private capital, making preservation of its seed money critical.

The strategy has been deployed by the Affordable Housing Fund, whose board has shown how surplus public money can temporarily become an investor in Treasury debt while projects await implementation.

The Affordable Housing Fund’s board had, by early 2025, parked Sh45.48 billion in Treasury bills, and disclosed in June 2025 that the investment had earned it Sh4.2 billion, without disclosing the exact amount that generated that income.

However, Housing Principal Secretary Charles Hinga said the fund had no money remaining in Treasury bills by August 2026, after faster procurement and budget absorption accelerated project implementation.

‘There’s currently zero money in T-bills from the Fund,’ Mr Hinga said, attributing the change to stronger budget absorption and earlier procurement planning.

The housing levy experience demonstrates that public-sector investment funds can vanish once agencies begin spending on their intended programmes, cutting off the temporary pool of funds for domestic borrowing.

The Sugar Development Fund (SDF) is another notable example of the strategy taking shape across public institutions, with the Kenya Sugar Board having planned to invest surplus collections in government securities.

The sugar board said funds not immediately required would be placed in Treasury bills, bonds or call deposits, depending on projected cash needs.

‘The investments could either be on a short-term or long-term basis, depending on the cash flow projections,’ the board said in a July 2025 report.

The SDF is financed through the Sugar Development Levy collected by the Kenya Revenue Authority from locally produced sugar at the rate of four percent of the ex-factory price of the sweetener and imported sugar, providing a recurring source of funds awaiting deployment.

The growing use of State funds offers a potentially cheaper and more predictable domestic funding source, but its size will depend on the timing of public-sector spending and investment needs.

Dr Ruto has been pushing for State corporations to surrender more of their income to the Exchequer amid pressure on tax collections and government cash flows.

In March 2024, Dr Ruto directed commercial State corporations to remit up to 80 percent of their net profits to the Treasury, with the requirement later incorporated into performance indicators for chief executives.

‘The money that some parastatals make does not belong to their boards or management. It belongs to the people of Kenya as returns on investment,’ Dr Ruto told State corporation chiefs.

The Treasury’s latest approach goes further by seeking returns from money that public institutions have not yet spent, creating a temporary financing channel without requiring immediate disposal of their underlying assets.

In case you’re new to this column, let me warn you: I don’t do polite. I nitpick, I rant, and I gnash my teeth about the absurdities of corporate governance, farming in Laikipia, and now, drumroll please, the circus that is trying to find a decent software developer in Kenya.

Let me tell you a story. It starts, as all good Kenyan business horror stories do, with a referral in 2018 BC (Before Covid). I needed a developer to create a platform for a client service that I provide. Nothing fancy, just a clean, functional system that wouldn’t dissolve like the increasingly potholed Limuru Road after a massive rainstorm.

A friend, bless her, she meant well, connected me to a developer who, in the retelling of his own CV, had practically built the internet. He’d worked on a platform for one of Kenya’s largest banking groups, he said, with the casual confidence of a man who knows you’re too polite to ask for references. He even showed me the work he’d done for said bank.

Anyway, I bit. He started the job, then promptly disappeared mid-process. Luckily, or so I thought, the actual work was being done by one of his junior developers who “inherited” the contract and therefore continued the work. I thought I had dodged a bullet. Spoiler alert: I had not.

Junior Dev finished the platform. We launched. A year later, the platform had several kinks that needed fixing.

But Junior Dev had disappeared. When he finally reappeared as the Artist Formerly Known As Junior Dev, it was like a scene from a bad Nollywood movie: in beach shorts, barefoot, clutching a bottle of wine that had personally wronged someone, looking exactly like he’d crawled out of the beach bar cave he claimed to have ‘SGR-d’ from that morning.

Since his triumphant, shoeless return, he has continued to “work” for me, and I use that word with the same generosity that a Nairobi County office posts on its walls: “You are entering a corruption-free zone.” Every task now requires a full diplomatic summit. I must cajole him. I must beg. I must, apparently, stroke an ego that has produced remarkably little to justify its own maintenance.

I asked, repeatedly, in writing, with the patience of a woman raising a toddler and a grown man simultaneously, for a simple maintenance contract. Something formal. Something with dates and deliverables and consequences. I am still waiting. I suspect I will be waiting when my grandchildren are old enough to inherit this platform, and this grievance, along with it.

So, reasonably, I did what any exhausted Kenyan business owner does when the informal economy of favours and friends-of-friends fails her: I went to LinkedIn last week. I posted a request for help, worded with the precision of a UN resolution: I wanted recommendations for development firms, but only from people who had actually, genuinely, verifiably been happy clients. Not agencies. Not “connect with me to discuss.” Not cousins of the firm’s marketing intern. Just happy clients.

Within hours, my DM inbox looked like the Museum Hill exit of Nairobi Expressway at 5pm on a Friday. Jammed, chaotic, and full of people who had clearly not read a single word I wrote. Developers. Agencies. Friends of developers and agencies. And it wasn’t just a local affair, the self-recommendations came in from as far as India and Dubai, which tells you two things.

One, that LinkedIn’s algorithm has the reading comprehension of a goat. And two, that somewhere out there, a very determined man in Bangalore saw a post that explicitly said “do not respond if you are the provider of this service” and thought, yes, this is my moment.

I did not know LinkedIn could serve your own plea for help back to the very people you were pleading to be protected from, but here we are. Apparently, the platform’s idea of “relevant audience” is “anyone who can smell a client from three continents away.” Every single one of them selling, not one of them referring. I asked for testimony and received a trade fair, with international delegates.

So I remain here, tethered by a fraying thread to a LinkedIn inbox full of pitches from full-stack, half-stack, and no-stack people that I never asked to pitch me, wondering if the actual disruptive Kenyan startup idea is simply this: a platform that verifies whether a client was, in fact, happy.

Anyway, I’m still sifting through my inbox. I’ll provide an update when I’m done with all of that. Just a warning: it’s increasingly looking like a Vision 2030 article.

Kenyans has been hit by unease following a pronouncement by President William Ruto that foreign nationals be barred from operating micro and small enterprises in the country. The pronouncement particularly rattled nationals of East African Community (EAC) countries such as Burundi who have thronged into Kenya over the years.

The Business Daily reviews what it takes for EAC nationals to live, work or do business in Kenya.

After many years, Centum Investment Company became a debt-free holding company in the year ended March 2026.

The Nairobi Securities Exchange-listed firm had used large amounts of debt to fund its expansion, sometimes borrowing and issuing guarantees on behalf of subsidiaries which also contracted debt on their own in some cases.

While the holding company became debt-free, the risk of debt has grown in the portfolio companies according to disclosures in Centum’s latest annual report.

The group’s bank borrowings-representing amounts owed by the operating units-rose to Sh13.6 billion in the review period from Sh12.2 billion a year earlier.

More of the businesses-compared to the prior year-are struggling to repay their obligations or comply with conditions set by the financiers.

This has resulted in renegotiations with lenders.

Longhorn Publishers’ credit facility from Standard Chartered Bank Kenya, for instance, increased to Sh910.2 million from Sh559.5 million as the company breached the loan terms including the capacity to service its debt from cash flows and current assets.

‘Management is actively engaging with the bank (StanChart) regarding the outstanding obligations, including discussions on a potential capital injection and the disposal of the charged property to reduce indebtedness and strengthen the company’s financial position,’ Centum said of Longhorn’s indebtedness.

The terms tied to a $20 million credit facility from the International Finance Corporation (IFC) for an affordable housing project by Centum Real Estate were also breached, with the subsidiary obtaining a waiver from the financier.

‘As at 31 March 2026, the group was not in compliance with the liabilities to tangible net worth ratio covenant,’ Centum said of the loan condition.

‘The group obtained a formal waiver from the lender prior to the authorisation of these financial statements, and accordingly, the borrowing continues to be classified as a non-current [long term] liability.

Breach of loan terms triggers the reclassification of long term loans into short-term facilities, effectively demanding that a borrower settles the amount within 12 months.

This is designed to protect the interest of creditors. A waiver, however, allows the borrower to stick to the original repayment schedule on the understanding that its financial position is likely to improve.

Vantage Capital, which provided a $32.3 million debt facility to Two Rivers Land Company (SEZ) Limited, waived the terms of the loan.

NCBA Bank Kenya issued a waiver to Two Rivers Power Company Limited to which it had lent 1.44 million euros. The subsidiary, which provides electricity to the Two Rivers property complex, exceeded the debt limits agreed with NCBA.

The utility also breached terms set by Grid X Duara Holdings, another creditor from which it borrowed $7 million in the form of a convertible loan.

‘At 31 March 2026, Two Rivers Power Company was in breach of both covenants. As such, the borrowing facility has been classified as a current liability [payable in the short term],’ Centum said.

While the lender had an option of converting its claims into shares of the company, no such conversion had occurred by the end of the reporting period.

The Nairobi Securities Exchange-listed firm did not report new developments with regard to the borrowings in the subsequent events section which captures material issues occurring after the end of the reporting period (March 2026).

Some of the loans are in compliance including a $38.5 million facility from Nedbank Limited owed by Two Rivers Land Company (SEZ) Limited and a $1.9 million loan from NCBA Uganda Limited owed by Pearl Marina Estates Limited.

Centum has been attacking the debt problem over the years to de-risk the business as several of the operating units underperformed while the liabilities including interest expenses piled up.

The group incurred total finance costs of Sh2.19 billion in the review period, up from Sh1.65 billion the year before.

In the review period, Centum settled loans from Stanbic Bank Kenya and Standard Bank of South Africa which were owed Sh690 million and Sh1.32 billion respectively in the prior year.

The company has relied on asset sales to raise funds for the debt repayment efforts. By eliminating debt at the holding company level, Centum has reduced the risk of the subsidiaries’ indebtedness spreading to owners of the NSE-listed firm which holds diverse assets.

A debt crisis at a subsidiary will be resolved using its own assets, except where the parent firm has issued guarantees.

Most of the bank borrowings have been secured using Centum’s real estate assets including land and buildings worth Sh42 billion at the end of the review period.

Centum recently sold a 60 percent stake in asset manager Nabo Capital Limited to Rock Investment Bank Limited.

One of its most prominent divestitures was the 2019 sale of its ownership in the local Coca-Cola bottlers for Sh19.3 billion.

Centum previously invested heavily in listed stocks before pivoting to the more capital-intensive private equity and real estate using borrowed funds.

He presses two fingers into his calf, flexes the muscle once, then lets it relax. His shoulders roll back, his chest lifts, and for a brief second, his whole body snaps into a bodybuilding pose before he settles into his chair again. Wellington “Willy” Owiye studies his body the way some people reread a draft before publishing.

He does not say he built it. He says he edited his body.

“In 2025, I realised some muscles weren’t keeping up with the rest,” says the 33-year-old. “So I went quiet. I studied my training, fixed my sleep, rebuilt my diet and worked on the body parts that were falling behind.”

To him, editing is not about dramatic change. It is about patiently correcting what is missing, one muscle at a time. “I had some lagging muscles,” he says with a grin. “Right now, I’m fully edited.”

Wellington Owiye, also known as Willy Owiye, 33, a professional gym trainer and bodybuilder, flexes his muscles during a fitness session at Ark La Creme Fitness Center in Ruaka on September 11, 2026.

Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

He is now training for the Body Fuel Championship set on October 10, meaning even more gruelling exercises.

He follows a strict rhythm, built around two things: training and eating.

‘Monday is a chest day, Tuesday for legs, Wednesday for shoulders, Thursday for back, Friday for arms, abs, and calves, and Saturday brings legs again along with more calf work,’ he says. Sunday is the only day he rests.

A normal session runs close to two hours. On a strong day, it can stretch to three hours. On a tired day, it might reduce the exercises to an hour and a half. Willy sometimes trains twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, a habit he has kept for two to three years, long before this current cycle even began.

But close to the competition, the purpose behind his training has changed completely. He is no longer chasing bigger muscles. What is left now is revealing what is already there, pulling the quad sweep into view, carving out the cut between the hamstring and the calf, bringing up the separation in his shoulders. He picks his legs as an example, and as he explains it, he closes his eyes right there, the way he does in the gym, his hand resting lightly on his thigh.

“In my preparation, I am more focused on these particular muscles,” he says. “The quad, the calf, the cuts in between. Normally I train when I’m closing my eyes. And I try to locate that muscle in my body.”

Wellington Owiye performs a dumbbell bicep curl during a fitness session at Ark La Creme Fitness Center in Ruaka on September 11, 2026.

Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

He explains that this kind of body awareness is not something everyone has. A bodybuilder trains that awareness the same way an athlete trains any skill, slowly, over years, until every single muscle can be called up and controlled on command, almost like flipping a switch.

He says he has cut out food variety so he can understand exactly how his body reacts to each ingredient. His carbohydrates come almost entirely from white rice and sweet potato. His protein comes from chicken, paired with broccoli, and sometimes a small serving of avocado when his body needs a bit of healthy fat.

For the past three weeks, his meals have barely changed. Chicken breast and white rice, again and again.

‘It is a boring diet,’ he says. ‘But I have to do it.’

What he eats

Eggs carry their own place in his daily routine. ‘My mornings begin with three whole eggs before heading to training. Afterwards, I take two more, this time eating mainly the yolks, alongside a small portion of carbohydrates. By the time my day ends, I have taken like eight to 10 eggs in total,’ he told BDLife.

None of this comes cheap. A kilogramme of chicken breast currently costs around Sh780. Broccoli goes for between Sh100 and Sh200. A single egg goes for Sh15 to Sh17. The more concentrated protein his body needs at this stage currently costs around Sh22,000. Then come the supplements, which push the numbers even higher. He takes creatine, fish oil, magnesium, and zinc, each one playing its own small part in keeping his body ready.

Wellington Owiye performs a seated cable row during a fitness session at Ark La Creme Fitness Center in Ruaka on September 11, 2026.

Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

He says having an exercise companion also helped him start a career as a fitness coach.

He noticed that many people don’t know how to train. ‘When I was training, and someone was looking, they were like, hey, since you look good and fit, can I train with you? Can we be training together? ‘

No heavy lifting

He got training partners, and the small beginning grew steadily. Willy realised he had built a following at the gym. People trusted him and wanted his guidance. In 2021, he made the leap, leaving his job as a salesperson at Dr Mattress to become a full-time trainer.

Bodybuilding came soon after that decision. ‘I never wanted to become a bodybuilder,’ he says. ‘I just wanted my name to be known. And in fitness, the only way, or the chances of your name being known, is through bodybuilding and training events.’

People around him kept telling him he had the frame for it, and eventually the idea stuck. He competed for the first time in 2021, at what he remembers as Mr 001, likely the very first edition of that competition. ‘It did not go the way I had hoped. I was new to everything, unsure of what the judges wanted, unsure of how my own body would hold up under the lights,’ says Willy. He rested the following year and kept building quietly in the background.

Wellington Owiye performs a reverse pec-deck fly (rear-delt fly) during a fitness session at Ark La Creme Fitness Center in Ruaka on September 11, 2026.

Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group

By 2023, he felt ready again. He participated in Mr East Africa carrying a better understanding of what competing truly demanded, and it paid off.

‘This time, I placed third in my category. That feeling, seeing months of quiet work reflected while I was on stage, pulled me forward.’

He competed again in 2024, this time with more confidence, inviting friends and clients to come watch him perform. He placed third again.

With four weeks left before the Body Fuel Championship, Willy is careful about every choice he makes, because this stretch of time carries its own risks. He explains that right now, he should not feel fully ready, because peaking too early is one of the biggest mistakes a bodybuilder can make.

‘At the moment, I am not supposed to be ready,’ he says. ‘Because if I am ready at this moment, that will mean that by the time October, I’ll be past ready. And that is the mistake that people do. You get in shape way before the competition.’

He has learned that lesson the hard way before, and he is not willing to repeat it. So he avoids lifting heavy weights in these final weeks, choosing lighter, controlled movements instead, working each muscle through repetition rather than raw strength.

‘Heavy lifting now carries too much risk of injury, and an injury at this stage, with my diet stripped down the way it is, could set my recovery back by months, possibly past the competition itself,’ he explains.

He also watches his weight closely, understanding that it will naturally drop as the event approaches, whether he wants it to or not. ‘The goal now is simply to manage that drop with patience rather than panic.’

He presses two fingers into his calf, flexes the muscle once, then lets it relax. His shoulders roll back, his chest lifts, and for a brief second, his whole body snaps into a bodybuilding pose before he settles into his chair again. Wellington “Willy” Owiye studies his body the way some people reread a draft before publishing.

He does not say he built it. He says he edited his body.

“In 2025, I realised some muscles weren’t keeping up with the rest,” says the 33-year-old. “So I went quiet. I studied my training, fixed my sleep, rebuilt my diet and worked on the body parts that were falling behind.”

To him, editing is not about dramatic change. It is about patiently correcting what is missing, one muscle at a time. “I had some lagging muscles,” he says with a grin. “Right now, I’m fully edited.”

He is now training for the Body Fuel Championship set on October 10, meaning even more gruelling exercises.

He follows a strict rhythm, built around two things: training and eating.

‘Monday is a chest day, Tuesday for legs, Wednesday for shoulders, Thursday for back, Friday for arms, abs, and calves, and Saturday brings legs again along with more calf work,’ he says. Sunday is the only day he rests.

A normal session runs close to two hours. On a strong day, it can stretch to three hours. On a tired day, it might reduce the exercises to an hour and a half. Willy sometimes trains twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, a habit he has kept for two to three years, long before this current cycle even began.

But close to the competition, the purpose behind his training has changed completely. He is no longer chasing bigger muscles. What is left now is revealing what is already there, pulling the quad sweep into view, carving out the cut between the hamstring and the calf, bringing up the separation in his shoulders. He picks his legs as an example, and as he explains it, he closes his eyes right there, the way he does in the gym, his hand resting lightly on his thigh.

“In my preparation, I am more focused on these particular muscles,” he says. “The quad, the calf, the cuts in between. Normally I train when I’m closing my eyes. And I try to locate that muscle in my body.”

He explains that this kind of body awareness is not something everyone has. A bodybuilder trains that awareness the same way an athlete trains any skill, slowly, over years, until every single muscle can be called up and controlled on command, almost like flipping a switch.

He says he has cut out food variety so he can understand exactly how his body reacts to each ingredient. His carbohydrates come almost entirely from white rice and sweet potato. His protein comes from chicken, paired with broccoli, and sometimes a small serving of avocado when his body needs a bit of healthy fat.

For the past three weeks, his meals have barely changed. Chicken breast and white rice, again and again.

‘It is a boring diet,’ he says. ‘But I have to do it.’

What he eats

Eggs carry their own place in his daily routine. ‘My mornings begin with three whole eggs before heading to training. Afterwards, I take two more, this time eating mainly the yolks, alongside a small portion of carbohydrates. By the time my day ends, I have taken like eight to 10 eggs in total,’ he told BDLife.

None of this comes cheap. A kilogramme of chicken breast currently costs around Sh780. Broccoli goes for between Sh100 and Sh200. A single egg goes for Sh15 to Sh17. The more concentrated protein his body needs at this stage currently costs around Sh22,000. Then come the supplements, which push the numbers even higher. He takes creatine, fish oil, magnesium, and zinc, each one playing its own small part in keeping his body ready.

He says having an exercise companion also helped him start a career as a fitness coach.

He noticed that many people don’t know how to train. ‘When I was training, and someone was looking, they were like, hey, since you look good and fit, can I train with you? Can we be training together? ‘

No heavy lifting

He got training partners, and the small beginning grew steadily. Willy realised he had built a following at the gym. People trusted him and wanted his guidance. In 2021, he made the leap, leaving his job as a salesperson at Dr Mattress to become a full-time trainer.

Bodybuilding came soon after that decision. ‘I never wanted to become a bodybuilder,’ he says. ‘I just wanted my name to be known. And in fitness, the only way, or the chances of your name being known, is through bodybuilding and training events.’

People around him kept telling him he had the frame for it, and eventually the idea stuck. He competed for the first time in 2021, at what he remembers as Mr 001, likely the very first edition of that competition. ‘It did not go the way I had hoped. I was new to everything, unsure of what the judges wanted, unsure of how my own body would hold up under the lights,’ says Willy. He rested the following year and kept building quietly in the background.

By 2023, he felt ready again. He participated in Mr East Africa carrying a better understanding of what competing truly demanded, and it paid off.

‘This time, I placed third in my category. That feeling, seeing months of quiet work reflected while I was on stage, pulled me forward.’

He competed again in 2024, this time with more confidence, inviting friends and clients to come watch him perform. He placed third again.

With four weeks left before the Body Fuel Championship, Willy is careful about every choice he makes, because this stretch of time carries its own risks. He explains that right now, he should not feel fully ready, because peaking too early is one of the biggest mistakes a bodybuilder can make.

‘At the moment, I am not supposed to be ready,’ he says. ‘Because if I am ready at this moment, that will mean that by the time October, I’ll be past ready. And that is the mistake that people do. You get in shape way before the competition.’

He has learned that lesson the hard way before, and he is not willing to repeat it. So he avoids lifting heavy weights in these final weeks, choosing lighter, controlled movements instead, working each muscle through repetition rather than raw strength.

‘Heavy lifting now carries too much risk of injury, and an injury at this stage, with my diet stripped down the way it is, could set my recovery back by months, possibly past the competition itself,’ he explains.

He also watches his weight closely, understanding that it will naturally drop as the event approaches, whether he wants it to or not. ‘The goal now is simply to manage that drop with patience rather than panic.’