Category: Business Daily

Centum Investment PLC’s loan arm, Jafari Credit, increased digital lending to civil servants by 10.1 percent to Sh413 million in the year to March 2026 as it deepened focus on lending to borrowers deemed less risky.

Disclosures show Jafari Credit’s disbursements to civil servants rose from Sh375 million in the previous year and Sh267 million in the year ended March 2024, taking the cumulative lending since launch in 2022 to Sh1.4 billion.

Jafari Credit CEO Edwin Munyiri attributed the growth to a strategy that combines disciplined lending with technology-driven efficiency.

‘Maintaining a Non-Performing Loan (NPL) rate of five percent while growing our loan book shows that it is possible to scale sustainably without compromising credit quality,’ Mr Munyiri said, adding that demand for affordable and accessible credit among salaried workers continues to rise.

Jafari says it is targeting more aggressive expansion in the segment, with plans to deploy up to Sh800 million in civil servant loans in the year to March 2027. The lender is also exploring additional business-to-business products as it seeks to diversify its offerings in the evolving credit market.

The rise in lending to public sector workers, including teachers, police officers and doctors, to meet emergency needs reflects increasing focus on building a high-quality loan book pegged on predictable incomes.

The lender said the growth has been driven by its continued emphasis on acquiring customers with stable income streams, particularly government staff whose salaries are considered less volatile compared to informal sector earnings.

Jafari Credit, a subsidiary of Centum Investment, has positioned itself as a fast-growing digital lender targeting salaried workers, with more than 17,000 civil servants having tapped the digital loans that start from Sh5,000.

The lender said it has maintained an NPL ratio of about five percent, pointing to the impact of targeting workers associated with relatively stable incomes.

Jafari Credit has also ramped up the use of AI in its operations, integrating the technology into credit appraisal and customer engagement to improve efficiency. Its AI-powered platform, Rafiki AI, has served more than 1,500 customers.

“AI adoption has helped drive effectiveness and efficiency, creating a scalable operating model where we can continue growing the business without increasing costs at the same pace or allowing credit quality to deteriorate,” said Mr Munyiri.

The company’s growth has been boosted by its licensing as a digital credit provider by the Central Bank of Kenya in a move that aligned its operations with regulatory requirements on transparency and consumer protection.

What happens when an ageing parent loses the ability to make important financial decisions? Across Kenya, the assumption is that a spouse or an adult child can step in, operate the bank accounts, manage property or run the business.

Under Kenyan law, that is not only unlawful, but it can leave families in a legal bind.

Relatives do not automatically acquire the authority to manage the affairs of an adult who has lost mental capacity, lawyers say. Instead, they should petition the High Court for the appointment of a manager under the Mental Health Act.

‘The family cannot appoint itself manager of that person’s affairs. Nobody, not a spouse and not even the eldest child, can lawfully sign for that person simply because they are family,’ says Njuguna Muri, a partner at MMTK Law, working with senior associate Mary Audi and associate Fridah Muriithi.

The problem can arise after a stroke, serious illness, injury or cognitive decline, leaving a person alive but unable to make some legal or financial decisions.

‘Your bank can freeze your account, the Lands Registry will not accept your signature and your business can stall, all while you are still alive. It can be very frustrating,’ the lawyers say.

The implications can be serious in wealthy families, blended households, polygamous marriages and businesses where much of the wealth or decision-making authority is concentrated in one person.

When capacity is lost

One of the biggest misconceptions, according to the lawyers, is that a power of attorney will automatically allow a trusted relative to continue managing a person’s affairs after incapacity.

An ordinary power of attorney does not provide that protection once the person who granted it loses mental capacity.

‘A power of attorney is only as good as the mind that gave it. The very event most people believe it is designed to solve, losing mental capacity, is the event that switches it off,’ the lawyers say.

This , they observe, creates a gap in a country that does not have a statutory lasting or enduring power of attorney similar to those available in jurisdictions such as England and Wales.

Where a person has already lost capacity, relatives may therefore have to seek court-appointed management of the person’s affairs. The process can become particularly difficult where family members disagree over who should manage the assets or whether the person had actually lost capacity.

Consequences beyond personal finances

For business owners and company founders, incapacity can affect bank mandates, contracts, shareholding decisions and the day-to-day running of a company. A business built around one person’s authority can be exposed if there is no alternative decision-making or governance arrangement.

Shareholder agreements, alternative signatories and other succession structures can help reduce that risk, lawyers say.

The ability to make important financial decisions is therefore not confined to inheritance. It concerns the management and preservation of wealth while the owner is still alive.

That distinction is becoming more important as families deal with longer lifespans and the financial consequences of cognitive decline, illness and serious injury.

Does dementia invalidate a will?

Losing mental capacity during a person’s lifetime does not automatically mean that a will they have already made is invalid.

Nor does a diagnosis of dementia, by itself, determine whether someone has the capacity to make a will.

The lawyers say capacity is assessed at the time the document is executed. A person diagnosed with early-stage dementia may still be capable of making a valid will if they understand what they are doing and the consequences of their decisions.

For a will to be valid, the lawyers point out, the person must understand that they are making a will, have a reasonable understanding of the assets they own, appreciate the people who might reasonably expect to benefit from their estate and understand the effect of the decisions they are making.

This makes the timing of estate planning critical.

A will prepared years before cognitive decline is likely to present a different evidentiary question from one signed shortly before death or after serious deterioration in a person’s mental state.

When a will is challenged, courts can consider medical evidence, witness testimony and the circumstances surrounding its execution in determining whether the document represents the person’s wishes.

Disputes can become particularly contentious where relatives allege that a caregiver, spouse or child exerted undue influence over an ageing parent. The possibility of such disputes means families should not wait until an individual is visibly declining before beginning discussions about succession.

Proof of lost capacity

But psychologists caution against treating every change in behaviour or every unpopular financial decision as proof that a person has lost capacity.

Consultant psychologist Serah Wanjiru, founder of Unique Divine Touch Counselling Consultants, says mental capacity is decision-specific. An older adult may be capable of making everyday choices but struggle with more complicated financial or legal decisions.

‘People have the right to make decisions that others disagree with, provided they understand the risks involved,’ she says.

Dementia is one possible cause of impaired cognition, she observes, but capacity can also be affected by stroke, illness, injury, medication or temporary confusion.

This distinction matters in families where relatives may be tempted to take control of an older person’s affairs simply because they believe the person’s decisions have become irrational or financially unwise.

The question, Serah says, is whether the person understands the decision and its consequences, rather than whether other family members agree with it.

How to plan before a crisis

The legal gap becomes more difficult to navigate when families have avoided conversations about money, property and future care.

Psychologist Salima Njoki Macharia of Peace Brigades International says discussions about ageing, wealth and inheritance often carry considerable emotional weight and are postponed until a crisis forces the issue.

‘In many cultures, talking openly about bank accounts, property or debts remains taboo, while some parents fear that discussing inheritance too early could spark conflict among children. Others worry that revealing the extent of their wealth could make them vulnerable to exploitation or loss of autonomy,’ she says.

By the time families begin discussing these issues, cognitive decline may already have made meaningful participation more difficult.

Salima says repeated financial mistakes, personality changes, withdrawal from social activities, difficulty performing familiar tasks and increased vulnerability to scams can be warning signs that should prompt a conversation.

But the purpose of such conversations is not necessarily to remove control from an older person. Rather, she says, families should discuss finances, property, healthcare and succession while the person can still express their wishes and participate in decisions.

‘Preparation matters because the law does not automatically give relatives authority to step in once capacity becomes uncertain. The safest approach is to discuss finances, property, healthcare, succession and other important matters while the older person is still able to make and communicate their decisions.’

For lawyers, that preparation should extend beyond simply writing a will.

Families can keep an up-to-date record of assets and important legal documents, establish appropriate trusts and succession structures, and ensure that businesses have governance arrangements that do not depend entirely on one individual’s ability to act.

They also need to understand the limits of informal arrangements.

Sharing an ATM card, bank PIN or M-Pesa account with a relative may appear convenient, but it does not give that person the legal authority to make decisions on behalf of someone who has lost capacity.

The lawyers argue that Kenya’s legal framework also needs to evolve as the population ages. They are calling for the introduction of a statutory enduring or lasting power of attorney that would allow a person with capacity to nominate someone to manage their affairs if they later become incapacitated.

‘Kenya should enact a statutory enduring or lasting power of attorney so that a person of sound mind can lawfully appoint someone to manage their affairs if mental incapacity later occurs,’ they say.

Such a framework, they argue, could reduce the need for families to seek court intervention after incapacity has already occurred while providing greater certainty over who can manage a person’s affairs.

Every year, Africans are told their economies are growing. Governments announce industrial parks, roads, digital hubs and investment deals. National plans promise manufacturing, value-addition, exports, jobs and prosperity.

Yet many families experience a different economy. Young people struggle to find work that uses their education. Small businesses remain small, not for lack of ambition, but because they lack affordable finance, technology and access to markets. Farmers produce but capture little value while salaries fail to keep pace with the cost of food, transport, housing, education and other basics.

If our economies are growing, why do many people feel they are standing still? Part of the answer lies in a distinction central to development economics: growth and transformation are related, but they are not the same. Growth tells us if an economy is producing more.

Transformation asks whether its productive structure and capacities are changing in ways that create higher-value activities, better work and rising household incomes.

This distinction is urgent. The World Bank projects that Sub-Sahara’s economy will grow by 4.1 per cent this year. However, today’s growth must be judged against the scale of tomorrow’s challenge.

With more than 620 million people expected to enter Africa’s labour force by 2050, headline growth will mean little unless our economies can create productive enterprises, better work and rising household incomes at scale.

Transformation, therefore, requires productive capacities. UNCTAD defines these as the productive resources, entrepreneurial capabilities and linkages that together determine a country’s ability to produce goods and services. Firms develop the capabilities to produce and compete, while governments help build and coordinate the wider system through skills, infrastructure, effective institutions, policy certainty and access to finance, technology and markets.

Consider two farmers working equally hard. One depends on unpredictable rainfall and sells an unprocessed crop to an intermediary. The other has access to irrigation, reliable inputs, agricultural knowledge, storage, processing facilities and a stable market.

The same applies to enterprises. A furniture maker facing unreliable electricity, unpredictable policies, expensive inputs and outdated equipment cannot compete with one supported by affordable finance, modern kits, skilled workers and efficient logistics. The difference is not effort or ambition, but the productive system within which each operates.

As productive capacities strengthen, workers and firms can create more value from the resources available. Productivity can rise, providing the economic basis for better wages, more competitive enterprises and higher revenues.

The objective of transformation must, therefore, be to create pathways into progressively more productive, secure and better-remunerated work. This requires successful farms, competitive factories and sophisticated service industries. It also requires enterprises that can grow from micro-businesses into stable small and medium-sized firms and eventually major companies.

This depends on continually deepening the technological, managerial and organisational capabilities of workers and firms. Over time, they must learn to produce more complex goods and services, meet global standards, adapt technology and manage supply chains.

This does not mean attempting to produce everything. It means identifying areas of advantage, entering viable value chains and moving into higher-value activities like specialised inputs, processing, design, branding and distribution. That is how economies capture more value.

Foreign investment can support that process, but its contribution should not be measured only by the amount of capital announced. We must also ask if it develops domestic suppliers, transfers knowledge, builds skills, expands export capacity and strengthens enterprises.

An investment that operates as an island may generate economic activity without building the productive capacities required for lasting transformation.

Building this productive strength also requires more than isolated projects. Too often, African development plans become catalogues of industrial parks, special economic zones, innovation hubs and development funds, each announced as if transformation will follow automatically. Such projects can help build productive capacities, but they are instruments, not outcomes.

An industrial park contributes to transformation only when it connects firms to reliable power, capable suppliers, skilled workers, technology, finance and markets.

The real test of government action is not simply what has been built or how much is spent. It is which productive constraint has been solved and what new capacity workers, firms or the wider economy have acquired. This is the discipline that separates economic strategy from political announcements.

Citizens do not need to be economists to tell if a development plan is credible. It should make clear what the country intends to become better at producing, which sectors can generate better jobs and incomes, what constrains their growth and what the government will do differently. The choices must then be translated into clear priorities, targets, responsibilities and timelines.

GDP remains important, but it cannot be the only measure of progress. We must also ask if enterprises are growing, workers are creating greater value, young people are moving into better work, domestic suppliers are capturing more value and family incomes are keeping pace with costs. These are the signs of an economy building productive strength.

Africa’s next development conversation must move beyond headline growth rates and catalogues of projects. The real question is not only whether an economy is growing, but what it is becoming capable of producing and if that transformation is creating better work, higher incomes and better lives.

The planned auction of properties linked to former Cabinet Secretary Raphael Tuju has brought renewed attention to a question many business owners do not consider until they face succession, financial distress or a family dispute: who actually owns a company’s assets?

Whether an asset belongs to an individual or a company can determine what passes to heirs, how wealth is transferred between generations and whether family assets remain protected when ownership changes.

Yet business owners often assume that owning a company means they personally own everything registered in its name.

That is not how the law works. The distinction is particularly important when a shareholder dies. Families can mistakenly assume that the company’s land, buildings, bank accounts and other assets automatically become part of the deceased’s estate.

According to Mary Audi and Fridah Muriithi, associates in the Commercial Department at MMTK Advocates, it is the deceased’s shares in the company, not the company’s underlying assets, that generally form part of the estate,.

“Wealthy families often use companies and trusts to ensure continuity of ownership and management, protect assets and facilitate orderly succession,” they say. “By separating family wealth from the founder’s personal estate, these structures help shield assets from personal liabilities of the shareholder, while making them easier to manage during the owner’s lifetime and after death.”

Companies and trusts can also give families more control over how wealth is managed and passed on, rather than leaving everything to the default rules of succession law.

Although companies and trusts are often discussed together, they serve different purposes.

“A company is a separate legal entity that owns assets in its own right,” Ms Audi and Ms Muriithi explain.

“A trust, on the other hand, is a legal arrangement in which the founder, also known as the settlor, establishes and funds the trust by transferring assets to it. The trust assets are then held and administered by the trustees for the benefit of the beneficiaries in accordance with the terms of the trust deed.”

In simple terms, companies are mainly used to own and run businesses or investments. Trusts are more commonly used for succession planning, asset protection and preserving family wealth over the long term.

Families may put land, rental properties, family businesses, shares, intellectual property rights and investment portfolios into companies or trusts.

One of the biggest advantages of both structures is continuity.

“These structures allow wealth to continue being managed without interruption upon the death of the founder or shareholders,” Audi and Muriithi say.

“A company continues to exist despite changes in shareholders, while a trust continues to be administered by trustees according to the trust deed.”

Unlike a will, a trust starts operating during the settlor’s lifetime and can continue after their death. That means businesses, investment portfolios and family property can continue to be managed without necessarily having to pass through the deceased’s personal estate.

“Under the doctrine of separate legal personality, a company’s assets belong to the company and not to its shareholders,” the lawyers say.

“Accordingly, upon the death of a shareholder, it is generally the deceased’s shares in the company, not the company’s underlying assets, that form part of the deceased’s estate.”

A company’s Articles of Association may set out how shares are transferred or transmitted after a shareholder’s death, but those rules do not change who owns the company’s assets. The same principle applies to trusts.

“Assets that have been validly transferred into a trust generally do not form part of the deceased founder’s estate as the trustees hold them for the benefit of the beneficiaries in accordance with the trust deed,” they explain. “However, any rights or interests retained by the founder or any specific provisions in the trust deed governing the founder’s interest will determine what, if anything, forms part of the estate.”

For families, the benefit is not only about avoiding confusion after someone dies. Properly structured companies and trusts can also reduce disputes by setting out the rules before disagreements arise.

“Companies and trusts reduce disputes by providing clear rules on ownership, management and succession before disagreements arise,” they say.

“A trust deed can specify who benefits from the trust, when they benefit, in what proportions and under what conditions. Similarly, shareholder agreements and company constitutions can regulate the transfer of shares and management of the business after the death of a shareholder.”

“Having these arrangements documented in advance significantly reduces uncertainty and the likelihood of litigation.”

The lawyers also reject the idea that trusts and holding companies are structures only for the wealthy.

“Middle-income earners who own land, rental property, investments or a family business can also benefit from using a trust or company to facilitate succession and reduce the likelihood of family disputes.”

But moving assets into a company or trust is not something families should do casually.

“Depending on the nature of the transaction, transferring assets may attract taxes such as Capital Gains Tax or Stamp Duty, although certain statutory exemptions may apply, including exemptions available for transfers into registered family trusts under the Stamp Duty Act,” Audi and Muriithi say.

“It is therefore important for families to obtain legal and tax advice before transferring assets because transfers may create unintended legal or tax consequences.”

So how should a family decide whether to use a company or a trust?

The answer, the lawyers say, depends on what the family is trying to achieve.

“A company is generally more suitable where the primary purpose is operating a business, raising finance or actively managing investments,” they say.

“A trust is often more appropriate where the objective is preserving wealth, protecting beneficiaries and controlling how assets are distributed across generations.”

The two structures can also work together.

“For example, a family trust may own the shares in a holding company that, in turn, owns the family’s businesses and investment assets, especially because a family trust is under law prohibited from being a trading entity.”

For business owners who have not yet started thinking about succession, the lawyers recommend dealing with the matter while the founder is still alive and able to make decisions.

“Families should prepare a valid will, maintain an up-to-date inventory of their assets, and consider whether a trust, a company or a combination of both best meets their long-term objectives,” they say.

“Most importantly, they should seek professional legal and tax advice before implementing any structure, and review their succession plan periodically as family circumstances evolve.”

“A well-designed succession plan not only preserves wealth but also promotes harmony by ensuring that future generations clearly understand the family’s intentions,” they conclude.

Parliamentary investigations into the possible loss of Sh64 billion through misdeclared imports of edible palm oil has stalled after the National Assembly Committee on Finance and National Planning failed to get testimonies from key officials and entities.

Key challenges include the failed testimony of former Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) boss Humphrey Wattanga, alleged inaction by Treasury Cabinet Secretary (CS) John Mbadi and the committee’s inactivity in finalising the report.

The committee launched the investigations two years ago on its own motion after intelligence that the government was losing revenue through the malpractice.

The documents reveal that misdeclaration of the palm oil is done in two ways to evade paying the required import duty at the Port of Mombasa.

This includes blending 60 percent crude palm oil with 40 percent refined palm olein and declaring the entire shipment as crude palm oil ‘allowing them to avoid paying import duties altogether.’

The committee, chaired by Molo MP Kuria Kimani, summoned Mr Wattanga during its meeting held on September 24, 2024.

Mr Wattanga was, however, thrown out by the committee over the manner in which the documents were presented.

The committee chairperson failed to respond to the Business Daily inquiries on the fate of the investigations.

Ever since, requests for his appearance, before exiting KRA, the investigations had been frustrated by either his refusal to honour committee invitations or requests for more time that seemingly never came to pass.

Earlier, the committee chairperson reckoned that Mr Mbadi had derailed the investigations after failing to honour committee invitations to present the required information.

CS Mbadi also did not respond to our inquiries sent to his known phone number regarding the accusations levelled against him.

‘We are disappointed with the National Treasury because it is making the committee unable to discharge its mandate. We have so many matters pending before the committee, yet we cannot move,’ said Mr Kimani as his committee members also weighed in.

‘This committee has lost meaning,’ said Mr John Ariko, the Turkana South MP, as his Kitui Rural colleague David Mwalika noted, ‘It is disheartening to start an investigation on a matter, then it disappears because some people cannot honour the committee’s summons.’

The Parliamentary Budget Office (PBO) documents presented to the House Committee show that in 2022, the government lost Sh16.5 billion in revenue from the misdeclared 233,000 metric tons and Sh32.54 billion in 2023 from 387,868 metric tons.

In 2024, the government lost Sh13.83 billion from the 163,567 metric tons imported.

Other than KRA, the Finance Committee had listed State agencies- Kenya Bureau of Standards (Kebs), Government Chemist, AFFA, and Kenya Ports Authority (KPA) and Intertek, a private laboratory, for questioning that has never been.

Also lined up for interrogation were consignees- Vipingo, Mazeras, ACEE, Mvita Oils, LDC Kenya, LDC and PTA Asia.

‘It has been observed that a large-scale tax evasion scheme is taking place at the Mombasa port involving misdeclaration of refined edible palm oil as crude palm oil,’ the PBO document said, adding: ‘LDC Kenya has been implicated in misdeclaring palm oil shipments for their clients intended for Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania and Rwanda.’

Under Kenyan law, imported refined edible palm oil is subject to a 35 percent import duty, while semi-refined palm oil attracts 10 percent duty.

All imports are liable for a 2.5 percent Import Declaration Fee (IDF), 1.5 percent Railway Development Levy (RDL) and 16 percent Value Added Tax (VAT).

‘These taxes are meant to protect local industries by encouraging the import of crude palm oil, which requires further processing domestically, thereby adding value and generating employment,’ the PBO document said.

The High Court has upheld a Sh32.9 million excise duty claim against insurance broker Minet for ‘hospital discounts’, boosting certainty on whether the fees earned from licensed activities are liable for taxation.

In a ruling that could sharpen the tax treatment of revenue earned through medical scheme administration, the court dismissed Minet’s appeal against value-added tax (VAT) and allowed a cross-appeal by the Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) for excise duty.

‘I find that the tribunal erred in law by holding that hospital discounts were outside the scope of excise duty. In the circumstances, I find the commissioner’s cross-appeal succeeds on this point,’ the judge said.

The court reinstated the excise duty assessment against Minet for the 2018 to 2021, with interest and penalties, and reconfirmed the VAT assessment on the hospital discounts.

‘Minet is a licensed insurance intermediary and medical insurance provider under the Insurance Act. It is registered for VAT. The evidence on record shows Minet receives medical claims, validates them and expedites payout using its operational infrastructure under Section 150A of the Insurance Act. The retention of a percentage of the invoiced amount (the discount) is the direct consideration earned for providing this service,’ the court said.

‘While financial services under Part II of the First Schedule to the VAT Act are generally exempt, specified administrative and trade-financing services of this nature do not enjoy statutory exemption. Minet failed to discharge its burden under Section 56(1) of the Tax Procedures Act, 2015 to demonstrate a specific statutory provision exempting these administrative earnings from VAT.’

The dispute followed a KRA audit of Minet’s tax affairs for January 2017 to December 2021. It produced additional assessments of Sh67.38 million in excise duty and Sh73.2 million in VAT.

At the centre of the dispute was money Minet retained from amounts payable to medical service providers after settling their invoices.

Minet called these amounts ‘hospital discounts’ and said they were commercial discounts offered for early payment.

Minet argued that the discounts did not arise from a service supplied to hospitals and, therefore, should not attract VAT. It said the payments were not fees arising from its licensed activities and should not attract excise duty.

KRA, however, said Minet earned the amounts through medical insurance administration, claims processing and faster payments to hospitals. It said the payments were consideration for a taxable service and constituted ‘other fees’ connected to Minet’s licensed activities.

The Tax Appeals Tribunal partly agreed with Minet in May 2024. It upheld VAT on the hospital discounts but quashed the Sh32.9 million excise duty assessment for 2018 to 2021 it had found wrongly imposed.

The tribunal characterised the arrangement as a financial service similar to invoice discounting. It found that Minet was not licensed to provide invoice discounting or similar financial services and concluded that the income did not arise from its licensed activities.

The High Court said the tribunal introduced the invoice-discounting description without it being pleaded or supported by evidence.

‘The true test under Part III of the First Schedule to the Excise Duty Act is not whether an entity holds a specialised standalone licence for discounting, but whether the fee earned relates to its licensed activities,’ the court said.

It found that Minet’s role as a medical insurance provider and scheme administrator enabled it to receive, verify and settle hospital claims.

The court also upheld VAT, saying Minet provided hospitals with accelerated cash flow and liquidity through early settlement of claims.

‘I find no fault in the tribunal’s finding that Minet provides a clear ‘facility or advantage’ to medical service providers, namely, accelerated cash flow and liquidity through early claim settlements,’ the judge said.

The court held that the VAT Act includes making a facility or advantage available within the definition of a service. Minet had failed to identify a statutory exemption covering the income.

On excise duty, the court rejected Minet’s argument that a separate licence for invoice discounting was necessary. It said the income stemmed from Minet’s licensed medical-insurance administration work.

‘The statutory definition of ‘other fees’ in the Excise Duty Act is deliberately broad. It captures all non-premium fees, charges and commissions derived from licensed operations,’ it said.

The ruling reinstated the Sh32.9 million Excise Duty assessment and reconfirmed VAT on the discounts.

Insurance Regulatory Authority data for 2024 shows medical insurance generated Sh73.4 billion, representing 35.97 per cent of non-life insurance revenue, making it the largest non-life insurance business.

National visions matter because countries do not develop by accident. They develop when leadership, institutions, citizens, and investors share a long-term direction that survives the noise of election cycles, policy reversals, and short-term pressures.

In a fast-changing world, a nation without a vision is often left responding to crises rather than shaping itsfuture. That is why national visions remain essential, even in countries where skepticism about grand blueprints is understandable.

They are not magic documents and they do not replace political will, execution, or resources. But when they are well designed and faithfully implemented, they give a country continuity, coherence, and a common language of development.

Kenya Vision 2030 was born out of that logic. It sought to transform Kenya into a newly industrialising, middle-income country that offers a high quality of life to all citizens by 2030.

It was built on three pillars: economic, social, and political. Its ambition was not modest. It aimed for sustained growth, infrastructure expansion, industrial upgrading, social inclusion, and governance reform.

In principle, that is exactly what a national vision should do: set a long-term destination, define the path toward it, and align national effort around a limited number of priorities.

The case for national visions is strongest in countries where politics is highly cyclical and where development gains can be undone by changes in administration.

A vision provides continuity across governments. It helps protect projects and reforms that take years, sometimes decades, to mature.

No serious nation can build roads, railways, power systems, education quality, industrial capacity, and institutional credibility in five-year bursts alone.

A vision also helps coordinate public resources, private investment, county priorities, donor support, and regulatory reform. It signals to investors that the country has direction and discipline, not just ambition. In that sense, the value of a vision is not only inspirational; it is practical and economic.

But a vision becomes credible only when it is grounded in reality. The process of developing one should begin with honest diagnosis, not rhetoric. A country must ask where it is starting from, what its binding constraints are, what its fiscal space allows, what social tensions need to be managed, and what external trends it must anticipate.

The next step is broad participation. A national vision cannot be a technocratic paper written in isolation and then handed down to the public as a finished product. Citizens, counties, business leaders, academia, civil society, youth, and the public service all need to see themselves in it. That ownership matters because visions survive best when people feel they helped shape them.

A strong vision also has to be selective. One of the most common mistakes countries make is trying to do everything at once.

A national vision should identify a few transformative priorities and then sequence them over time. If a country tries to be everything to everyone, the result is usually fragmentation, underfunding, and weak delivery.

The best visions are ambitious but disciplined. They know that development is not a shopping list. It is a chain of choices. Once those choices are made, the vision must be translated into medium-term plans, budgets, performance systems, and public reporting. Without that machinery, the document remains aspirational but ineective.

The failures of national visions tend to be similar across countries.

The first is political hijacking. When a vision becomes the property of one administration or one leader, it loses its national character and becomes vulnerable to reversal.

The second is over-ambition without financing. It is easy to announce lofty targets; it is much harder to pay for them.

The third is weak public ownership. If citizens do not understand the vision or feel connected to it, it becomes a bureaucratic exercise rather than a national cause.

The fourth is poor execution. A vision with no clear institutional home, no measurable targets, and no accountability system will not deliver.

The fifth is rigidity. A vision should be stable, but not blind. It must be able to absorb shocks such as pandemics, climate disruptions, debt stress, technological change, and shifts in global trade.This is where Kenya Vision 2030 deserves a balanced judgment. It should not be dismissed as a failure, but neither should it be celebrated as a full success.

On the positive side, it helped institutionalise long-term planning and created a framework for medium-term implementation and annual reporting. It also supported major gains in infrastructure, energy, digital connectivity, and some elements of public-sector modernisation.

Kenya is a very different country in 2026 than it was in 2008, and Vision 2030 played a role in that change.

The official flagship progress reports note considerable progress across sectors and a continuing effort to track implementation through annual reporting The infrastructure achievements are especially visible.

Roads, rail, ports, and energy investments expanded the country’s physical connectivity and strengthened the enabling environment for business. Digital infrastructure also advanced significantly, helping Kenya consolidate its position as one of the region’s more dynamic tech and communications markets.

In many respects, Vision 2030 delivered the skeleton of modern economic capacity. But a skeleton is not the same as a fully functioning body. Infrastructure alone does not guarantee industrial transformation, broad job creation, or inclusive prosperity. That is where the disappointment becomes clearer.

Kenya’s Vision 2030 explicitly targeted an average annual economic growth rate of 10 percent, but the economy did not sustain anything close to that level over the long run. Growth was real, but it was lower than the vision imagined, and it did not translate into the scale of structural transformation that had been promised.

Manufacturing did not surge as expected, employment creation remained under pressure, inequality persisted, and many citizens did not feel a decisive improvement in the quality of public services. The country modernised faster than it industrialised. That distinction matters.

A nation can build impressive infrastructure and still fall short of deeper transformation if productivity, competitiveness, and inclusive growth do not keep pace.

A fair evaluation of Vision 2030 must therefore use criteria that go beyond headline projects. It should ask whether macroeconomic stability improved, whether flagship programmes were completed on time and within budget, whether the quality of education and health improved, whether poverty and inequality fell, whether governance became more transparent, whether devolution improved regional balance, and whether the state became more accountable and efficient. It should also assess whether the vision changed the culture of government itself.

Did ministries, agencies, and counties actually learn to plan better, coordinate better, and deliver better? If the answer is only partially yes, then the vision deserves credit for progress but criticism for incompleteness.

The real value of comparison is not to flatter or shame Kenya, but to sharpen the lesson. Singapore remains one of the clearest examples of how a national vision can become national transformation when it is backed by institutional discipline.

Its Economic Development Board became a lead instrument for industrial development, investment promotion, and economic upgrading. More importantly, Singapore combined vision with continuity, meritocracy, policy consistency, and relentless execution. It did not treat development as a series of slogans. It treated it as a state capability.

That is the lesson Kenya must absorb. A vision succeeds when institutions outlast politics, when technical capacity is protected, and when implementation is treated as serious work rather than ceremonial rhetoric.

Kenya can also draw useful lessons from broader East Asian development experience, including Malaysia. The common thread across successful cases is not merely that they had long-term plans. It is that they matched those plans with industrial policy, human capital investment, export competitiveness, and a disciplined bureaucracy.

They chose strategic sectors, mobilised resources around them, and stayed the course long enough for compounding to occur. That is the part many countries struggle with. The temptation is always to chase visible wins and short political returns. The harder discipline is to stay committed to long-term transformation even when the pay offs are not immediately glamorous.

As Kenya designs its next vision beyond 2030, the country should resist the temptation to produce another expansive wish list. The next framework should be more focused, more realistic, and more enforceable. It should prioritise jobs, industrialisation, agricultural value addition, energy security, digital transformation, the blue economy, housing, and climate resilience.

It should recognise that debt, revenue constraints, institutional capacity, and global uncertainty are not footnotes; they are central design issues.

It should also be anchored in law and institutions so that it does not depend on the preferences of a single administration. Public reporting, independent monitoring, and regular scorecards should be built into the system from the beginning, not added after problems emerge.

Just as important, the next vision must be citizen-owned. Kenya cannot afford a top-down blueprint that is technically elegant but socially thin. Counties, business leaders, communities, youth, and civil society must see the framework as theirs. A nation owns what it helps create. That ownership is what gives a vision political resilience and moral force. It is also what keeps it from becoming a decorative policy document that is launched with fanfare and abandoned in practice.

National visions work best when they are simple enough to understand, concrete enough to measure, and durable enough to survive changes in leadership.

The final lesson is that a national vision is never an end in itself. It is a means of organising national effort around a future that citizens can believe in.

Kenya’s next vision should therefore be judged not by how many pages it contains or how elegantly it is launched, but by whether it changes the behaviour of the state and the trajectory of the economy. If it leads to more productive jobs, better services, stronger institutions, and greater trust between citizens and government, then it will have done its job. If it merely restates old ambitions in new language, then Kenya will have repeated a familiar mistake.

The country has already shown that it can plan. The challenge now is to plan better, implement harder, and stay committed longer. That is what will separate the next vision from the last one, and promises from progress.

Taxpayers challenging the tax assessment against them by the Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) now face a higher threshold after the High Court placed the burden on them of ensuring indexed and chronologically matching records to back their claims.

In a high-implication decision, the High Court said that it is not enough for taxpayers to furnish KRA with documents and data challenging an assessment, adding that such data must be indexed and chronologically matched.

‘The law does not require the Commissioner to play the role of a forensic accountant. When a taxpayer is asked to explain why their own tax declarations do not add up, the taxpayer must provide clear, specific and indexed reconciliation. Flooding the Kenya Revenue Authority with unindexed and chronologically mismatched files is not an act of compliance; it is evasion of the taxpayer’s evidential duty,’ the High Court said.

A tax assessment is an official calculation by the KRA that shows how much a taxpayer owes the government. The system relies primarily on self-assessment when filing returns through the KRA, though the tax authority can issue amended, default, or additional assessments if discrepancies are found.

The directive came as the High Court overturned a November 10, 2023 determination by the Tax Appeals Tribunal, which threw out a Sh29.21 million assessment by KRA against Jakoline Enterprises Ltd. It argued that the Tribunal erred in assessing Jakoline Enterprises Ltd’s data submitted as a rebuttal challenging the assessment.

The Sh29.21 million assessment by KRA against Jakoline Enterprises Ltd stems from Sh14.48 million in income tax obligations and Sh14.73 million in value-added tax (VAT) obligations for the period 2017 to 2020.

According to KRA, the figure was arrived at following an audit that revealed inconsistencies between purchases claimed in Jakoline Enterprises Ltd’s Corporate Income Tax returns and the purchases made in its monthly VAT returns.

The High Court, in its judgement, took the Tax Appeals Tribunal to task over its decision on the data and documents submitted by Jakoline Enterprises Ltd when challenging the assessment raised by KRA.

The judgement by the High Court finds that the taxpayer’s evidence failed to meet critical thresholds prescribed in both the Tax Procedures Act and the Tax Appeals Tribunal Act.

‘Jakoline Enterprises Ltd failed to discharge its statutory burden under Section 56(1) of the Tax Procedures Act and Section 30 of the Tax Appeals Tribunal Act. By holding that such unstructured data presentation shifted the duty back to the state, the Tax Appeals Tribunal committed a profound error of law. The tribunal’s decision was based on fundamental misapplication of the rules of evidence and cannot be allowed to stand,’ the High Court states.

The High Court judgement means that businesses, especially those that are in the small and medium category, will have to place particular attention to their record keeping to ensure that their tax ledger is well regularised and defensible should it trigger an assessment by KRA.

This judgement comes at a time when taxpayer data and its use in compliance has come under sharp scrutiny following Finance Act 2026’s introduction of a dual assessment income tax regime in the country, which now allows KRA to leverage third-party data in verifying a taxpayer’s compliance.

Cyber cafés in Kenya will from Friday be required to keep customers’ records such as names, identification numbers, the computer used and login time in fresh efforts to curb cybercrimes like mobile money theft and SIM swap fraud.

New regulations published by the Communications Authority of Kenya (CA) demand that the internet shops issue receipts and keep the records for a minimum of three years, during which the regulator can request them for investigation.

Public internet cafés do not enforce strict user identification, making them attractive to cybercriminals seeking to browse, steal data and hack without being traced through their personal IP addresses.

They also give criminals access to a large pool of personal data like ID numbers, names, passwords and phone numbers of users who log into their accounts using unsecured public computers.

The new regulations come amid a surge in SIM swap and mobile money fraud in Kenya, leading to billions of shillings in losses.

‘Put in place a mechanism for registering customers,’ say the new CA licensing regulations for public communications access centres, which take effect on August 14.

‘Maintain basic user logs of service usage, essentially a customer session log (excluding personal browsing history), which will cover the terminal ID, session start and end time.’

Customer session logs record users’ interactions with websites or apps, tracking login times, page views, and clicks. Terminal IDs are unique codes that help businesses track which of their computers processed a transaction. Such data helps IT system managers monitor behaviour, troubleshoot errors, and audit security to nab fraudsters.

‘The licensee shall grant the authority’s authorised officers’ reasonable access to premises, systems, records, and equipment for the purpose of inspection, audit, or investigation,’ the rules say.

Those in breach of the regulations face fines equivalent to 0.2 percent of their annual turnover, with the minimum penalty set at Sh500,000. They also face business closure.

Kenyans lost Sh491.6 million ($3.8 million) and cryptocurrency after cyber-criminals hijacked victims’ mobile phone numbers in the SIM-swap fraud.

International Criminal Police Organization (Interpol) reckons that Kenya’s SIM swap fraud surged by 327 per cent last year on the back of increased use of mobile money platforms.

Read: How Kenyans lost Sh491m, cryptos via SIM hijack

The surge in attacks highlights the risk of cyber heists in the wake of lenders’ heavy investments in tech and mobile banking.

Through SIM swap fraud, fraudsters hijack victims’ phone numbers, gaining unauthorised access to sensitive accounts such as banking, mobile phone wallets and cryptocurrency platforms. It occurs when a fraudster convinces a mobile carrier to transfer a victim’s phone number to a SIM card they control, exploiting the legitimate feature of mobile number portability.

Once the swap is complete, the victim’s phone loses network connectivity, and the fraudster receives all calls and texts, including one-time passwords for account access.

Kenya built a reputation as a pioneer of financial inclusion through its early adoption of a mobile money system that enables people to transfer cash and make payments on cellphones with or without a bank account.

This has become a hackers’ paradise. Mobile banking was the hardest hit, with criminals siphoning off Sh810.68 million in 2024, translating to a 344 percent rise from Sh182.41 million in the prior year.

The thefts often happen on Friday and Saturday night, with millennials-individuals born between 1981 and 1996- being the most affected.

Cyber cafés in Kenya boomed in the late 2000s and early 2010s in the cities and larger towns.

But widespread use of smartphones and cheaper, faster mobile data have largely replaced the need for traditional internet browsing at cyber cafés.

Cybercriminals are exploiting public internet shops by installing malware on their unsecured computers to record customer usernames, passwords, and banking details, and intercepting their networks to snoop on customers’ activity.

The criminals run their activities anonymously because police struggle to track them as the majority of the cafés do not enforce strict user ID checks.

The CA previously proposed mandatory CCTV surveillance for all cafés but has dropped the requirement in the latest rules.

The new rules also require cyber cafés to install software and set network filters in their computers that block access to illegal websites and scan web traffic in real time to stop dangerous downloads or illegal files.

They also bar café owners from bandwidth reselling – buying bulk data or a high-capacity connection from internet service providers and breaking it down to sell smaller amounts to end users – without the CA’s approval.

The new rules also seek to stamp out other internet offences like piracy, document forgery, identity theft and cyberbullying. Businesses in breach of the new regulations face closure.

‘The authority may suspend the licensed services where the licensee has breached a condition in this licence and the licensee has been notified of the breach of the licence condition and has been given notice to comply within a specified period and failed to comply,’ the CA says.

I believe The Sweetest Taboo by Sade is one of the greatest songs ever written and Sade Adu is one of the greatest performers of all time.

I love Sade, and last week I saw a movie that reminded me of the group. In a very strange way, watching Tides, I couldn’t help but wonder whether the director and writers had the group in mind.

Directed by Reuben Odanga and produced by Multan Production, Tides is a musical romance drama set on the Kenyan coast. It follows Salma (Sarah Hassan) and Biko (Brian Kabugi), a struggling musician couple trying to balance love, ambition, and the crushing reality of poverty while caring for their ill daughter.

Alongside them is Minnie Kariuki (Brenda) the sister and Morgan (Dumisani Mbebe), a worldly character whose presence complicates the family’s journey. The film blends family drama with music, and while it doesn’t always succeed, it offers some intense character moments and drama.

There’s a balance between experienced younger actors and more mature performers in this film that gives the story a sense of depth. Sarah Hassan is great as Salma, especially in her musical performances, where her costumes and stage presence elevate the character, she is good in this, though I still maintain we need a role that pushes her further. Kabugi’s Biko in writing is flawed, but his performance gives the character the edge, and though his arc feels rushed in places, he remains compelling.

Mbebe’s Morgan has the look and I was glad that, in the writing and perfomance, they avoid stereotypes and delivers a grounded, polished character who feels authentic to the world rather than defined by nationality, in simple terms, amapiano doesn’t play when he first appears. Even when flashes of his South African roots slip through, it is appropriately applied within the context of the story and moment.

Minne Kariuki adds the necessary contrast that is needed to drive Salma’s arc, even though she has her own spicy run in the story, though I thought the writing could have taken her further. I thought Sikukuu Hamisi Jumaa gives the most realistic performance in the film, as she has an authentic coastal touch that grounds and creates a realistic coastal family feel to a lot of her scenes.

The casting of Biko’s parents was perfect, its one of those moments you will need to see for yourself.

There are also other surprise cameos in the film that I will not spoil.

Music and storytelling

The music is the heartbeat of Tides. Composed by Silayio, the soundtrack is filled with original songs that are not only memorable but also interwoven into the narrative. At one point, lyrics align perfectly with the drama, creating a layered storytelling moment.

Some tracks are so well-timed emotionally that they could stand as a standalone music video, one incredible song in particular, the cinematography, the costume, the tone, and the performances just come together perfectly to deliver a fantastic experience.

Drama and universe

The film exists within Reuben Odanga’s growing cinematic universe, with nods to Mo-Faya and Nafsi popping up in posters and background details. That means the film also follows Odanga’s storytelling style that exploits the complexity of human relationships with melodrama as the story’s driving force, tackling the globally recognisable theme of love in the face of adversity.

Basically, fans of telenovelas or his work like Nafsi and Lazizi will recognise the approach. He likes to push characters to the edge, it looks like (like Jeremy Clarkson) he asks himself, ‘what could possibly go wrong with this character?’ and then proceeds to take the character there. But at the end of the day, each character’s motivation is clear, even if some twists and the drama feels forced or unresolved. It is always clear why the characters are doing what they are doing.

The cinematography gives the film a polished look and feel, with beautiful close-ups and stage shots, this despite the fact that I don’t think they fully utilise the coast as their location with the exterior shots. I expected more wide shots capturing a unique look at the coast.

The premises are never disorienting, with a clever blending of interior and exterior shots that make locations feel seamless. As a result, as the viewer, you never feel lost or out of place.

The movie also benefits from strong appropriate costume design, with characters costumes matching their status. Hassan’s outfits and makeup move from poor to striking depending on the scene, Minnie’s makeup is bold, with a good reason for that and Morgan’s wardrobe adds subtle detail to his character.

There is a sensibility to environmental noises, wind on a boat, crowds outside, that adds realism to the world. At times, crowd noise feels mismatched, but overall the soundscape enhances immersion.

There’s product placement for one brand that makes logical sense, as it is the go-to drink for foreigners when they want a taste of the country. I hope the production team got paid for that.

Gripes

Character arcs, especially Biko’s and Salma’s, feel rushed. Quiet moments that could have added emotional weight are missing. Salma, for instance, makes drastic decisions without a moment of reflection, alone beforehand, that would have made her decisions more powerful. An example is her third-act decision, which I thought could have benefited from a minute with her on the beach alone as she thinks, so as to allow the audience to sit with her issues and process them.

The film editing and pacing often prioritises moving the story forward over letting us live with the characters. And that comes out clearly in the third act when some decisions feel abrupt.

This leaves performances strong but undercut by the lack of space to breathe. The abundance of characters and subplots also makes the film feel like it was originally conceived as a series rather than a feature. There’s simply too much left unexplored and you can’t shake off the feeling a lot was left on the editing floor.

Back to Sade: the band as a whole at the centre of the story is underdeveloped. They lack a clear collective goal, which weakens what is meant to be a pivotal moment in the third act. Had they been given a shared vision, their journey would have felt richer than what is presented.

This may not be an issue to a lot of people, but I thought the structure and some story elements were, one would call it accessible, familiar. I would call it generic, simple, safe.

The elephant in the room

For me, a small but divisive element is a hospital scene involving the daughter’s illness and current policical agendas. It introduces a simple and quick statement that feels heavy-handed and dilutes the emotional core of the story. For me, it made the whole film feel like a piece of propaganda rather than art.

Instead of challenging , balancing perspectives, or having that in the background, treat it like an afterthought, the moment felt like it froze or built everything around the daughter to deliver or lead to that one message. This overshadowed the child’s storyline and undermined the film’s integrity.

Other creative issues, the title card looks good design-wise, but the black background and lack of animation doesn’t work. A more creative integration of the beach and wave motif that are repeated throughout the film could have been a better background. The credits at the end look unpolished and fail to match the cinematic ambition of the film. It’s the coast, so would people call the love of their lives ‘babe’ or ‘mpenzi’?

Morgan’s reason for the visit should have remained a mystery up until things started to get complicated.

I also thought Tides should have been the name of the band.

Final thoughts

I loved the music, admired the performances across the board, and appreciated Odanga’s ambition. Yet that one political moment stripped the film of its value. But that’s just me, the film offers plenty to enjoy. The twist, the drama and music come together to give a unique coastal experience.