OMWENGA: Why Kenya can't survive corruption the way she used to

Kenya has lived with corruption for generations. But corruption has not always had the same impact. There was a time we had what analysts dubbed the “Kenyan paradox” — a country that somehow managed to function, even grow, under intense corruption. That paradox is now over, and the reality is the country cannot survive long at the levels of corruption being suffered.

Daniel Moi’s 24‑year rule is remembered for many things, but corruption is near the top of the list. Goldenberg alone drained an estimated Sh158 billion from the economy. And yet, Kenya did not collapse. In fact, compared to its neighbours, Kenya in the 1980s and 1990s looked almost stable — a “functioning kleptocracy,” as one foreign magazine famously put it.

Several factors explain this resilience. Even at the height of one‑party rule, Kenya had a surprisingly diversified private sector. Tourism, commercial agriculture, manufacturing, and a relatively sophisticated banking system provided ballast. Much of the economy operated despite the state, not because of it. Entrepreneurs learned to navigate around corruption, and the private sector became a buffer against political excesses.

There were also islands of technocratic competence. Treasury, the Central Bank, and certain ministries retained professionals who understood macroeconomic discipline. They were not always empowered, but they existed — and they mattered. Donor pressure added another layer of restraint.

Kenya was too important to fail, and the IMF and World Bank periodically froze aid, demanded reforms, and forced the government to maintain some level of fiscal discipline. Geography helped too. Nairobi was the region’s transport, logistics, and diplomatic hub, giving Kenya a built‑in resilience many neighbours lacked.

The result was a strange equilibrium: corruption was high, but the system had buffers. Kenya stagnated, but it did not implode.

When Moi left office in 2002, Kenyans expected a clean break. The early Kibaki years brought optimism — new institutions, new laws, new energy. But corruption did not disappear; it evolved. Anglo Leasing showed the old networks were still alive. The Eurobond mega corruption reared its ugly head.

Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index tells the story. Kenya’s score in 2002 was around 19/100 — one of the lowest in the world. Over the next two decades, the score fluctuated between 25 and 32, never escaping the “highly corrupt” category. Kenya improved from the Moi nadir, but not by much.

The incumbent has now been in office for more than three years. Corruption did not begin with him, and it will not end with him. But the context in which corruption now operates is fundamentally different from the Moi era. To say it has gone through the roof, would be an understatement. There are no buffers that once allowed Kenya to “muddle through” high levels of corruption. The consequences are more immediate, and threateningly so.

Under Moi, the economy was smaller and less leveraged. Today, corruption occurs in a high‑debt, high‑spending environment. Misgovernance now affects debt sustainability, investor confidence, credit ratings, and the stability of the currency.

In the 1990s, Kenya could rely on donor bailouts and cheap concessional loans. Today, that’s not an option. Corruption in this environment is more dangerous than corruption cushioned by cheap money.

Corruption scandals have eroded legitimacy. Meanwhile, the anti‑corruption architecture — EACC, DCI, Auditor‑General, Parliament — are all sitting pretty as paper tigers, having been declawed. When institutions lose credibility, corruption becomes not just a governance problem but an existential threat to the country.

High living costs, currency depreciation, rising debt service, and declining investor confidence mean corruption today is not just immoral; it is destabilising.

Kenya has survived many storms — coups next door, structural adjustment, post‑election violence, and repeated scandals. The country is resilient. But resilience is not infinite. The difference between the Moi era and today is not the presence of corruption but the context in which it operates. The buffers that once absorbed the shocks are weaker or nonexistent. The consequences are more widely and deeply felt.

This cannot be sustained.

Elections of 2027 cannot come soon enough for the voters to have a say in bringing this to an end and they will. The country will be on life-support by then, but help is on the way.