Kankaba

DCP Party leader Rigathi Gachagua's sons register as voters in Mathira, Nyeri County, urging more youths to take part in the exercise

Kesho!

Edwin Sifuna survives ouster bid as ODM secretary-general

1. Geothermal; Reliable but expensive. 2. Hydro: We have no big rivers. 3. Thermal; We have coal but are beholden to donors. 4. HFO: Expensive, reliable, majority of PPAs 5. LNG: Uhuruto let this deal Kibaki era guys had negotiated die instead of doing smaller phases.

We won't increase the tax rate for Kenyans in the 2026/27 budget - CS Mbadi

Kenya’s rush into a 2,000MW nuclear plant in Siaya is a historic mistake in the making – economically, environmentally, and strategically. First, context. Kenya already gets about 85–90% of its electricity from clean sources: geothermal, hydro, wind and increasingly solar. We are a global poster child for clean power without nuclear. Our main challenge isn’t a lack of clean options. We aren’t planning and using what we have well enough. So why gamble billions on the most complex, riskiest option on the menu? A single 2,000MW nuclear plant is one of the largest, most expensive projects in our history. These plants are notorious for cost overruns and delays in far richer, more technically advanced countries. If it runs late (very likely) or goes over budget (almost guaranteed), someone has to pay. That “someone” is Kenyan taxpayers and electricity consumers. We risk locking ourselves into decades of high tariffs or more public debt to service a mega‑project we didn’t actually need. Meanwhile, the opportunity cost is massive. For the same money, Kenya could add thousands of megawatts of geothermal, wind and solar across multiple counties, plus storage and transmission to stabilise the grid. Geothermal alone, in the Rift Valley, can provide 24/7 baseload power without importing fuel – and we’ve already shown we know how to do it. Wind in Turkana, solar in the north and east, small hydro, battery storage: these are proven, modular, quicker to build, and spread economic benefits more widely than one giant plant in Siaya. Then there’s the risk profile. Nuclear accidents are rare, but when they go wrong, they go very wrong and last for generations. Putting a first‑ever nuclear plant on Lake Victoria, which supports millions of people across several countries, is a huge regional gamble. Even “minor” incidents or perceived risk can devastate fisheries, tourism, and local livelihoods. Radioactive waste is a 100‑year question in a political system that struggles to manage five‑year projects without scandal. Do we really trust our current institutions to run a flawless nuclear safety culture for the next century? Governance is the elephant in the room. Nuclear is the kind of project that attracts opaque deals, expensive foreign contractors, complex technology transfer promises, and huge procurement contracts. In a country where big infrastructure routinely raises questions about corruption and value for money, adding nuclear’s complexity is like pouring petrol on a smouldering fire. Once we sign, we are locked in – to a vendor, to a technology, to a repayment schedule – regardless of how our economy or technology options evolve. Strategically, it also makes little sense. The world is moving towards flexible, distributed, renewables‑heavy systems supported by storage and smart grids. Nuclear is the opposite: big, centralised, inflexible units that must run almost all the time to be economical. On a grid like Kenya’s, where demand is still growing and industrialisation is uneven, dropping 2,000MW of inflexible baseload can actually complicate balancing, especially when we add more variable wind and solar. We risk building a system that is technically elegant on paper but financially and operationally brittle in reality. Kenya’s climate and geography give us an embarrassment of renewable riches: untapped geothermal reservoirs, some of the best wind regimes on the continent, abundant solar irradiation, and room for regional power trade. Instead of doubling down on what works and scaling it smartly, we are flirting with the most capital‑intensive, politically risky, institution‑demanding technology available. It’s like bypassing a field full of ripe maize to plant a single, exotic crop we’ve never grown before, which only matures if the weather is perfect for 20 years. If our goal is cheap, reliable, climate‑friendly power that supports jobs and industry, the answer is to go deeper on what we’re already good at: – Aggressively expand geothermal as firm baseload. – Add more wind and solar, especially near demand centres. – Invest in storage, transmission, and regional interconnectors. – Fix governance, planning, and utility finances so that Kenyans actually feel the benefit on their bills. Nuclear might have a place someday in a much larger, richer, more industrialised Kenya with rock‑solid institutions. But right now, when we are already at 85%+ clean power and sitting on huge untapped renewable potential, a 2,000MW nuclear plant is not visionary at all. It’s a high‑risk distraction. Our focus should be on making Kenya the first truly renewables‑powered industrial economy in Africa, not a test case for big nuclear on Lake Victoria.

Kenya’s rush into a 2,000MW nuclear plant in Siaya is a historic mistake in the making – economically, environmentally, and strategically. First, context. Kenya already gets about 85–90% of its electricity from clean sources: geothermal, hydro, wind and increasingly solar. We are a global poster child for clean power without nuclear. Our main challenge isn’t a lack of clean options. We aren’t planning and using what we have well enough. So why gamble billions on the most complex, riskiest option on the menu? A single 2,000MW nuclear plant is one of the largest, most expensive projects in our history. These plants are notorious for cost overruns and delays in far richer, more technically advanced countries. If it runs late (very likely) or goes over budget (almost guaranteed), someone has to pay. That “someone” is Kenyan taxpayers and electricity consumers. We risk locking ourselves into decades of high tariffs or more public debt to service a mega‑project we didn’t actually need. Meanwhile, the opportunity cost is massive. For the same money, Kenya could add thousands of megawatts of geothermal, wind and solar across multiple counties, plus storage and transmission to stabilise the grid. Geothermal alone, in the Rift Valley, can provide 24/7 baseload power without importing fuel – and we’ve already shown we know how to do it. Wind in Turkana, solar in the north and east, small hydro, battery storage: these are proven, modular, quicker to build, and spread economic benefits more widely than one giant plant in Siaya. Then there’s the risk profile. Nuclear accidents are rare, but when they go wrong, they go very wrong and last for generations. Putting a first‑ever nuclear plant on Lake Victoria, which supports millions of people across several countries, is a huge regional gamble. Even “minor” incidents or perceived risk can devastate fisheries, tourism, and local livelihoods. Radioactive waste is a 100‑year question in a political system that struggles to manage five‑year projects without scandal. Do we really trust our current institutions to run a flawless nuclear safety culture for the next century? Governance is the elephant in the room. Nuclear is the kind of project that attracts opaque deals, expensive foreign contractors, complex technology transfer promises, and huge procurement contracts. In a country where big infrastructure routinely raises questions about corruption and value for money, adding nuclear’s complexity is like pouring petrol on a smouldering fire. Once we sign, we are locked in – to a vendor, to a technology, to a repayment schedule – regardless of how our economy or technology options evolve. Strategically, it also makes little sense. The world is moving towards flexible, distributed, renewables‑heavy systems supported by storage and smart grids. Nuclear is the opposite: big, centralised, inflexible units that must run almost all the time to be economical. On a grid like Kenya’s, where demand is still growing and industrialisation is uneven, dropping 2,000MW of inflexible baseload can actually complicate balancing, especially when we add more variable wind and solar. We risk building a system that is technically elegant on paper but financially and operationally brittle in reality. Kenya’s climate and geography give us an embarrassment of renewable riches: untapped geothermal reservoirs, some of the best wind regimes on the continent, abundant solar irradiation, and room for regional power trade. Instead of doubling down on what works and scaling it smartly, we are flirting with the most capital‑intensive, politically risky, institution‑demanding technology available. It’s like bypassing a field full of ripe maize to plant a single, exotic crop we’ve never grown before, which only matures if the weather is perfect for 20 years. If our goal is cheap, reliable, climate‑friendly power that supports jobs and industry, the answer is to go deeper on what we’re already good at: – Aggressively expand geothermal as firm baseload. – Add more wind and solar, especially near demand centres. – Invest in storage, transmission, and regional interconnectors. – Fix governance, planning, and utility finances so that Kenyans actually feel the benefit on their bills. Nuclear might have a place someday in a much larger, richer, more industrialised Kenya with rock‑solid institutions. But right now, when we are already at 85%+ clean power and sitting on huge untapped renewable potential, a 2,000MW nuclear plant is not visionary at all. It’s a high‑risk distraction. Our focus should be on making Kenya the first truly renewables‑powered industrial economy in Africa, not a test case for big nuclear on Lake Victoria.