
It is therefore perplexing that the National Assembly's priorities include a proposal that would effectively punish teachers for lawful income-generating activities outside their official duties.
The proposed Teachers Service Commission (Amendment) Bill, 2026, sponsored by Kimani Ichung'wah, reportedly lists "engaging in other gainful employment" as a disciplinary offence for TSC-employed teachers.
If enacted in its current form, the measure could affect thousands of teachers who run farms, small businesses, shops, consultancy services, transport ventures and other legitimate enterprises to supplement their earnings.
To be fair, the objective of ensuring professionalism in the teaching service is not inherently objectionable. Every employer has a legitimate interest in ensuring that employees devote adequate time and energy to their core responsibilities.
If a teacher's side business compromises classroom performance, punctuality or professional ethics, disciplinary mechanisms should certainly exist. No serious person would defend absenteeism or neglect of duty.
However, that is not the central question. The question is whether the state can honestly demand exclusive economic loyalty from teachers while failing to provide compensation that guarantees a decent standard of living. The answer is no.
Teaching remains one of the most important professions in any society. Teachers produce the doctors, engineers, lawyers, accountants, scientists and politicians upon whom national development depends.
Yet paradoxically, teachers often find themselves among the most financially constrained professionals despite their academic qualifications, continuous professional development obligations and immense social responsibilities.
Across Kenya, countless teachers have turned to farming, retail businesses, transport investments and consultancy not out of greed but necessity. They are responding rationally to economic realities.
These ventures help them pay school fees for their children, settle mortgages, support extended families and shield themselves against inflation. To criminalise or punish such efforts is to misunderstand the economic conditions confronting ordinary teachers.
Even more troubling is the apparent inconsistency in the proposal. Many professionals in public service engage in supplementary economic activities. Doctors operate private clinics. Engineers undertake consultancy projects. Accountants offer professional services outside their primary employment. University lecturers conduct research and consultancy assignments. Politicians themselves frequently maintain extensive business interests while serving in public office.
If side hustles are inherently incompatible with public service, should the same standard not apply to everyone? Or are teachers being singled out because they represent a constituency perceived as politically convenient to regulate? The optics are deeply unfortunate.
At a time when teacher unions have repeatedly raised concerns about remuneration, promotions, workload, staffing shortages and career progression, Parliament appears more interested in restricting teachers' avenues of economic advancement than addressing the conditions that necessitate such ventures in the first place.
This approach risks worsening an already serious morale problem. A motivated teacher is an asset to national development. A demoralised teacher is a threat to educational quality.
When educators feel undervalued, overworked and economically constrained, the consequences are ultimately borne by learners. Public policy should aim to inspire, support and retain talented educators, not treat them as suspects in their own struggle for economic survival.
Moreover, there is a broader philosophical issue at stake. In a free and democratic society, employment should not amount to economic servitude. So long as lawful entrepreneurial activities do not interfere with official duties, citizens should retain the freedom to improve their economic circumstances.
The role of government should be to create opportunities for wealth creation, not erect barriers against it. Indeed, Kenya's leaders routinely encourage citizens to embrace entrepreneurship, innovation and self-reliance. Teachers should not become the exception to that national message.
Parliament would therefore serve the country better by asking more fundamental questions: Why do so many teachers feel compelled to pursue additional income streams? What does this reveal about remuneration and welfare within the profession? How can policymakers improve teacher motivation, retention and productivity? Those are conversations worthy of legislative attention.
Legislation should solve problems, not create new frustrations. If the concern is conflict of interest or neglect of duty, the law should target those specific misconducts. If the concern is professionalism, then establish measurable professional standards.
But a blanket assault on legitimate side hustles risks punishing dedicated teachers whose only offence is refusing to be defeated by economic hardship.
Kenya's teachers do not need more restrictions. They need respect. They need support. They need better working conditions. Most of all, they need policymakers who understand that economic empowerment is not misconduct.
A nation that constantly diminishes its teachers ultimately diminishes itself. And that is a lesson Parliament should never forget.