𝙋𝘼𝙐𝙇@ouma_neko
This morning I walked into a pharmacy near Mama Lucy Kibaki Hospital, just before Naivas Supermarket Bee Centre.
I asked for a simple deworming tablet Albendazole (ABZ) the kind millions of Kenyans take without thinking twice.
I chewed the tablet right there and paid KSh 50, the price it has always been.
Then the lady behind the counter looked at me and said, “Ni mia.”
KSh 100.
I froze for a second. Double the price. No explanation. No receipt. Just quiet daylight robbery inside a place that pretends to be a health facility. Out of sheer awkwardness I paid the extra KSh 50.
But something didn’t sit right.
So I walked to four other pharmacies around the same area and asked for the exact same tablet.
KSh 50.
KSh 50.
KSh 50.
KSh 50.
Then I crossed the road and checked another one.
KSh 50 again.
That’s when the anger hit me.
I went back and asked the question that every Kenyan should be asking right now:
When did medicine become a tool of extortion?
Because if a simple deworming tablet can be inflated 100% in broad daylight, imagine what happens to a desperate mother buying antibiotics for her child at night. Imagine the robbery happening to cancer patients, diabetics, people fighting infections.
Pharmacies across Nairobi are quietly turning sickness into a marketplace of exploitation.
And the most frightening part?
The government is watching and doing absolutely nothing.
Where is Pharmacy and Poisons Board?
Where is Consumer Federation of Kenya?
Who is checking these pharmacies?
Who is enforcing prices?
Who is protecting sick Kenyans from predators wearing white coats?
Because right now the reality is brutal: many pharmacies are operating like kiosks selling pain and profit in the same breath.
You could see the shame in that lady’s eyes when I confronted her. She knew exactly what she had done.
And that is when it hit me why everyone is opening pharmacies today politicians, businessmen, even people who have never studied medicine. It is one of the easiest places in Kenya to print money from human suffering.
This rot cannot continue.
Medicine is not a luxury.
Medicine is not a gambling market.
Medicine is not a space for quiet theft from sick people.
If regulators will not act, then Kenyans must start naming, exposing, and shaming these pharmacies one by one.
Because a country where the sick are cheated at the pharmacy counter is a country whose health system has already collapsed.