The release of the Economic Survey 2026 should have
been more than a statistical ritual. It is, in fact, a mirror - one that reflects not just the
state of Kenya’s economy - but also the deeper contradictions between
how our economy functions and how our politics is practised.
At first glance, the numbers appear reassuring. The economy grew by 4.6
per cent. Key sectors such as construction and mining posted recovery.
Employment levels increased. Inflation, though present, remained within a
manageable band. On paper, this is an economy that is stable, even resilient.
But beneath this surface lies a more troubling reality: Kenya is
experiencing growth without meaningful transformation. And at the heart of this
stagnation is a growing disconnect between economic realities and political
choices.
The most striking feature of Kenya’s economy today is its dual nature.
On one hand, there is a small, formal, high-income economy - structured, regulated and
visible. On the other, there is a vast informal economy - comprising more than 18 million
Kenyans - marked by
vulnerability, low productivity and limited protections. This is where most
livelihoods are found. It is also where most new jobs are being created.
Yet our politics does not reflect this duality. Policy frameworks,
taxation regimes and regulatory systems are disproportionately designed around
the formal sector, while political legitimacy is largely derived from the
informal majority. The result is a system that extracts from the few who are
visible while failing to protect the many who are not.
This is not merely an economic oversight - it is a political failure.
Consider the issue of job creation. Each year, Kenya celebrates the
addition of hundreds of thousands of new jobs. But the Economic Survey makes
it clear that the overwhelming majority of these jobs are informal. They lack
stability, social protection and pathways for growth. What the economy requires
is deliberate investment in productivity — through industrial policy, support
to micro-, small and medium enterprises and value chain development,
particularly in agriculture.
What politics offers instead are short-term, highly visible
interventions: public works programmes, cash transfers and promises of
employment that cannot be sustained fiscally. These may win votes, but they do
not build economies.
Nowhere is this misalignment more evident than in the rising cost of
living. Inflation, driven largely by food and transport costs, continues to
erode household purchasing power. For ordinary Kenyans, the economy is not
experienced through GDP growth figures — it is felt at the market, at the fuel
pump and in the daily struggle to make ends meet.
Yet fiscal policy has moved in the opposite direction. Increased
reliance on consumption taxes - particularly on fuel and basic
goods - means that the burden of
adjustment is being placed on the very households already under strain. In
effect, the state is extracting more from citizens at the precise moment they
can least afford it.
This raises a fundamental political economy question: whose interests
are being prioritised?
Agriculture provides another telling example. It remains the backbone of
livelihoods for a majority of Kenyans, yet its growth remains modest. While
political discourse frequently invokes the plight of the farmer, policy
attention has been episodic and often reactive - focused on subsidies and
short-term relief rather than long-term structural transformation. Issues of
market access, storage, value addition and climate resilience remain inadequately
addressed.
The sector that sustains the majority does not shape the priorities of
governance. That, too, is a disconnect.
Then there is the question of public debt. With the debt stock now
exceeding Sh11 trillion, Kenya faces significant fiscal constraints. Debt
servicing continues to consume a growing share of public resources, limiting
the government’s ability to invest in critical sectors such as health,
education and social protection.
But beyond the numbers lies a deeper democratic concern. Decisions
around borrowing have largely been Executive-driven, with limited public
participation or accountability. Citizens are now being asked to bear the cost
of choices they had little role in shaping. This undermines not just economic
sustainability, but democratic legitimacy itself.
Even in social sectors, the pattern persists. The strain in health
financing systems points to a broader issue: social protection in Kenya remains
fragmented, underfunded and often politicised. Rather than being built as a coherent
social contract between the state and its citizens, welfare programmes are too
often deployed as instruments of political messaging.
Taken together, these trends point to a single, overarching conclusion:
Kenya’s economic structure has evolved, but its political logic has not kept
pace.
The economy is complex, unequal and increasingly constrained by
structural challenges. It requires leadership that is responsive,
evidence-based and willing to make difficult, long-term decisions. It demands
policies that prioritise productivity over optics, inclusion over expediency
and sustainability over short-term gain.
What we have instead is a political system that remains largely
personality-driven, electorally reactive and focused on immediate
redistribution rather than structural transformation.
The Economic Survey 2026, therefore, should not just inform
policy — it should provoke reflection. It should compel us to ask difficult
questions about the kind of leadership we need, the nature of our political
incentives and the future we are building.