Defiant protestors in Nairobi streets. PHOTO/UGC.
By PATRICK MAYOYO
On the morning of June 25, 2025, the streets of Nairobi were anything but quiet. Smoke curled into the sky, tyres burned at intersections, and chants of resistance echoed through alleyways and streets.
A sea of young Kenyans, many barely out of their teens, marched in remembrance, but not only to honour the dead. They came in defiance. One year after a youth-led uprising rocked the country in protest against a punitive finance bill and an increasingly authoritarian state, Kenya’s Gen Z returned to the streets to make a bold statement: they have not forgotten and they will not back down.
The anniversary was no ordinary memorial. It was a vivid reminder that Kenya’s youngest citizens are at the centre of a national reckoning over injustice, inequality, and the failures of governance. For President William Ruto and his administration, the message was unmissable: this generation is not going away.
In June 2024, what began as a protest against the government’s Finance Bill quickly morphed into one of the most significant youth-led uprisings in Kenya’s history.
The bill proposed sweeping new taxes on fuel, food, and digital services essential items in a country where the cost of living was already spiralling. For Kenya’s youth, many of whom are jobless, underemployed, or economically precarious, the legislation was more than just bad policy. It was a breaking point.
Frustration quickly turned to fury. Protesters stormed Parliament, demanding lawmakers scrap the bill. What followed was brutal. Security forces responded with tear gas, rubber bullets, and, ultimately, live ammunition.
By day’s end, at least 60 people, mostly young were dead. Many more were injured, arrested, or disappeared in the days that followed. Despite the bill’s withdrawal and a hurried Cabinet reshuffle, the damage was done. The social contract had been broken.
The 2025 anniversary, held under heavy police presence, was anything but subdued. Instead, it mirrored the raw emotions of a generation that feels betrayed.
Protesters waved blood-stained Kenyan flags, sang protest songs, and carried posters bearing the names and faces of those killed or disappeared. Across cities from Mombasa to Kakamega, the message rang clear: “We are still here.”
Retired Chief Justice David Maraga when he joined Gen Z protestors in Nairobi. PHOTO/UGC.
And they are. Far from being a fleeting moment of outrage, the Gen Z uprising has become a sustained movement with national reach. What initially seemed like spontaneous anger has transformed into a networked, organised, and ideologically clear mobilisation against the status quo.
“It’s not just about the Finance Bill anymore,” says Achieng, a 22-year-old student activist from Nairobi. “It’s about corruption. It’s about jobs. It’s about police killing us with no consequence. We are tired of being ignored, and we’re not afraid anymore.”
The grievances behind the protests are deep-rooted. Kenya has one of the highest youth unemployment rates in Sub-Saharan Africa, with nearly four in ten young people out of work. Corruption scandals routinely dominate headlines.
State security forces have a long and well-documented history of excessive force, arbitrary arrests, and extrajudicial killings, particularly in low-income neighbourhoods.
But what makes this generation different is not just their suffering; it’s their strategy. Kenya’s Gen Z is wired, literate, and globally connected. Using platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and X (formerly Twitter), they have organised marches, exposed government overreach, and raised money for legal aid and medical bills.
In the absence of political parties that speak to their realities, they’ve created a digital civic space that is nimble, inclusive, and unrelenting.
They also reject traditional political labels. This is not a movement tied to ethnicity or party historical pillars of Kenyan politics. Instead, it is radically inclusive, fiercely democratic, and unapologetically critical of any institution that perpetuates inequality or impunity.
For President Ruto, the anniversary commemoration presents both a challenge and an opportunity. The challenge is clear: his administration’s response to the original protests, marked by violence, intimidation, and censorship, only deepened public mistrust. Attempts to frame the uprising as the work of political opponents or “ethnic agitators” have failed.
Indeed, the more the state has tried to clamp down, the more defiant Gen Z has become. The continued use of heavy police force, reports of abductions of activists, and lack of credible investigations into past abuses have only added fuel to the fire.
Agitated protestors in Nairobi. PHOTO/UGC.
The uprising and the government’s response has drawn international attention. Human rights organisations including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have condemned the Kenyan state’s use of lethal force. Western governments, long considered allies of Nairobi, have issued cautious statements urging restraint and reform.
Kenya is often seen as a pillar of stability in East Africa, a regional economic hub and key partner in security efforts across the Horn of Africa. But prolonged domestic unrest, particularly involving a politically awakened youth, could destabilise that reputation.
As Kenya marks one year since its youth first took to the streets en masse, the stakes are higher than ever. For Gen Z, the memory of their fallen peers is both a scar and a symbol. Their protests are not an end, but a beginning; a movement demanding nothing short of recognition.
And for President Ruto, the anniversary must be more than a footnote in his political career. It is a test of leadership, empathy, and courage. The young people of Kenya are not asking for handouts. They are demanding dignity, opportunity, and accountability.
The question now is whether the government will finally listen or continue to govern by force, pushing the country further down a path of confrontation.
One protestor’s words, spray-painted on a crumbling wall in Nairobi’s Central Business District, perhaps capture the moment best: “We are not the future. We are the now.”
