June 25, 2025
The real opposition today wears thrifted jeans, speaks in Sheng, and knows how to collapse a government website before breakfast.
Kenyan youth protest for better governance
Nairobi, Kenya – 25 June 2025 marked one year since a youth-led movement shook Kenya’s political establishment and forced the withdrawal of the Finance Bill 2024. That civic uprising—leaderless, strategic, and driven by Gen Z—wasn’t just about tax policy. It was about power.
One year later, the Finance Bill 2025 has already been passed by Parliament and now awaits presidential assent. While this year’s version avoids the flashpoints that sparked last year’s protests—scrapping contentious tax proposals and introducing modest reliefs—the deeper tensions remain. For a generation that bled in the streets, tweaks in language won’t erase the demand for structural accountability
A New Generation, A New Grammar of Power
On 25 June 2024, a new kind of resistance stormed into Kenya’s political arena. Not from the opposition benches, but from TikTok threads, university WhatsApp groups, street art, and data-driven bots translating legalese into Sheng. The protest against the Finance Bill 2024 wasn’t just spontaneous. It was strategic, leaderless by design, and youth-led to the core.
“The political class had already agreed the bill would pass,” said journalist Thomas Mukhwana, when I spoke to him on Panel 54, a podcast I co-host with media personality Ndu Okoh, that explores power, policy, and paradoxes across Africa. “But the streets had a different plan,” he went on to say.
That conversation wasn’t just about what happened—it was about what comes next.
What Gen Z Taught the Nation
The Finance Bill protests didn’t just disrupt. They redefined.
For decades, Kenya’s political establishment has treated youth as a mobilizable resource—useful during campaigns, expendable afterward. But the Gen Z uprising of 2024 broke that mold. It wasn’t funded. It wasn’t centrally planned. It wasn’t asking for a seat at the table. It was flipping the table over.
This generation is digital-native, politically alert, and creatively defiant. In sub-Saharan Africa, over 70% of the population is under 30, and in Kenya, youth face the highest rates of unemployment, underrepresentation, and over-policing. But they’re not waiting for permission to act.
“If I’m a CPA, I break down the bill. If I’m an artist, I sing about it,” Tom told me. “That’s how the fire stays lit—not through one voice, but thousands doing their part.”
The Vacuum After the Fire
During that same conversation, I found myself reflecting on what happens when the cameras move on.
“They’ve got the spark,” I said. “They’ve got the activity. But they don’t have a means. They’re operating in a vacuum. We benchmark outrage. We do not benchmark outcomes.”
We shouldn’t confuse protest energy with institutional traction. And we shouldn’t place the burden of state reform solely on the backs of an unresourced generation. The rage is justified—but rage alone can’t rebuild a nation. It needs infrastructure.
Four Tests of Real Change
Ahead of our podcast, I revisited widely accepted benchmarks for social movements—criteria found in the work of scholars like Erica Chenoweth, Srdja Popović, and Zeynep Tufekci. Whether in Serbia, Sudan, or Soweto, the lessons hold:
In 2024, the Finance Bill was withdrawn. That’s power shifted. But without structural redesign—of tax policy, of civic participation, of public accountability—victory may prove fleeting.
The 2025 Bill: Quieter, But Not Kinder
The 2025 version avoids the provocations of last year. No tax on essentials. No aggressive levies on digital content. But the structure remains: 68% of government revenue still goes to debt and recurrent costs. Youth employment remains stagnant. Public participation forums are still performative rituals.
This is the deeper failure: a policy that soothes headlines but doesn’t solve problems.
The Myth—and Risk—of Leaderlessness
In 2024, Gen Z avoided central figureheads. When faces like Morara Kebaso and Kasmuel McOure shifted toward state proximity, the movement continued. That resilience was part of the power.
“They weren’t leaders,” Tom said. “They were just visible.”
But movements without infrastructure can burn out—or be hijacked. Without policy alternatives, budgets get passed. Without civic education, noise stays noise. Without legal literacy, injustice becomes law.
From Protest to Proposition: The Long Road Ahead
The protests of 2024 made one thing clear: Gen Z knows how to mobilize. But if that energy is to shape Kenya’s future—not just stall its mistakes—it must evolve into long-term civic muscle.
This isn’t about the Finance Bill of the moment. It’s about preparing for every Finance Bill to come. Every budget. Every policy window. Every fight that’s not yet gone viral.
That means:
It’s not glamorous. But it’s how change happens because the real test of any movement isn’t just what it stops. It’s what it builds.
The Real Opposition
Kenya’s formal opposition has been reduced to ritual. Handshakes, factionalism, and televised indignation. The real opposition today wears thrifted jeans, speaks in Sheng, and knows how to collapse a government website before breakfast.
But to matter, protest must evolve. Visibility must become voice. Rage must become reform. Because while protest can halt a bill, only structure can rewrite the budget.
Closing Word
The 2024 protests weren’t just resistance. They were a civic education in real time. They showed us the stakes. Now comes the hard part: turning that resistance into reform, that moment into a movement.
If Gen Z succeeds, they won’t just be remembered for what they stopped. They’ll be remembered for what they started.
Gen Z’s Uprising in Kenya: Aristotle’s Insight in Modern Times
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