Kenya has positioned herself as a continental leader in climate action by being bold in declarations, ambitious in pledges, and vibrant in international forums.
From clean energy transition to a 15-billion tree-planting campaign, from speeches on global platforms to local climate policies, the country seems to be walking the climate talk.
But beneath the sheen of press releases and summit speeches lies a more complex reality. A reality in which climate ambitions sometimes clash with political expediency, economic interests, and bureaucratic inertia.
To understand the true nature of Kenya’s climate commitment, we must go beyond the headlines, into forests both protected and plundered, villages lit by solar lamps and others stuck in darkness, boardrooms filled with plans and the fields still parched by drought.
Kenya’s climate agenda is studded with bold declarations. It has committed to reducing greenhouse gas emissions by 32% by 2030 under its Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs). The country has also pledged to transition fully to 100% clean energy by 2030.
President William Ruto, who has styled himself a climate champion since taking office in 2022, launched a 15-billion tree planting campaign and pledged to phase out fossil fuel dependence in favor of wind, solar, and geothermal energy. Kenya even hosted the inaugural Africa Climate Summit in 2023, during which it presented itself as the heartbeat of Africa’s green future.
These commitments, articulated in speeches and etched in strategy documents, reflect a country aware of the threats posed by climate change, especially given that Kenya is highly vulnerable to its impacts, with increasing frequency of droughts, floods, rising lakes in the Rift Valley and erratic rainfall affecting food security and livelihoods.
Launched with fanfare, the 15-billion tree campaign was envisioned to restore lost forest cover, fight desertification, and re-green Kenya’s degraded landscapes. Ministries, schools, counties, and even prisons were mobilized. Civil servants were given tree-planting quotas.
In November 2023, a public holiday that will be happening every October 20th was declared for the entire country to plant trees, a symbolic gesture that captured headlines worldwide. But behind the symbolism are thorny questions. Which trees are being planted? Where? Who monitors their survival?
Environmentalists have raised concerns that many trees planted are exotic species, which may not survive or could even harm local biodiversity. Others point out that without consistent watering and protection, tree seedlings planted in semi-arid counties often die before maturity. Kenya’s National Environmental Complaints Committee has noted that less than 30% of trees planted under previous campaigns had survived.
Moreover, planting trees while quietly opening up forests to logging presents a moral contradiction. In 2023, the government controversially lifted a six-year ban on logging, citing the need to support the timber industry. This move was met with fury by conservationists who argued that allowing commercial interests into public forests undermines the very goal of increasing forest cover. It was a telling moment as economic interests won over environmental prudence.
Kenya often earns praise for its renewable energy landscape. Over 80% of the electricity on the national grid comes from renewables, mainly geothermal, hydropower, wind, and solar. The country boasts Africa’s largest wind farm, the Lake Turkana Wind Power Project and is home to the world’s largest geothermal development in the Rift Valley. Yet despite these strides, a deeper look reveals some fault lines.
First, while grid electricity is clean, it remains largely inaccessible. Over 20 million Kenyans still rely on wood fuel and charcoal for cooking fuels that contribute to deforestation and indoor pollution. Rural electrification has progressed but at a pace that still leaves millions in the dark, especially in remote areas. Solar kits and mini-grids are promising, but funding and coordination are sporadic.
Secondly, Kenya has not entirely abandoned fossil fuel dreams. Oil exploration continues in the Turkana Basin, and a planned crude oil pipeline linking Kenya to South Sudan and Uganda remains on the table. The proposed Lamu coal power plant, though halted by a court ruling in 2019, showed how fossil fuel interests can re-emerge when least expected.
And while the government talks green, major infrastructure projects like roads, housing, and dams often proceed with minimal environmental impact assessments. The National Environment Management Authority (NEMA), the custodian of Kenya’s environmental oversight, is frequently accused of being reactive, underfunded, or even complicit in permitting harmful developments.
NEMA’s role in safeguarding Kenya’s environment is critical. It is meant to ensure that projects adhere to the Environmental Management and Coordination Act, conduct Environmental Impact Assessments (EIAs), and enforce penalties on violators.
But in practice, NEMA is a “sleeping watchdog.” In Nairobi, real estate developers have encroached wetlands with little resistance. In Laikipia, Timau and Naivasha, flower farms continue to extract water from rivers running dry due to climate change and overuse. In Coast, indigenous communities fight mega projects that threaten their ancestral lands and marine ecosystems. In all these cases, NEMA has either acted too late or not at all.
Critics say that NEMA lacks the political independence to take on powerful interests. Others cite corruption, poor funding, and lack of technical capacity. The institution may be structured to enforce, but its track record raises doubts about whether it is truly empowered or just willing to prioritize the environment over profits.
Climate action does not happen in a vacuum. It requires political will, grassroots mobilization, and institutional integrity. In Kenya, climate issues have become politicized. both in good and bad ways.
True climate leadership requires more than attendance at summits or planting trees for the cameras. It requires systemic change, empowered institutions, transparent processes, local ownership, and difficult choices that prioritize the environment even when it’s inconvenient.
President Ruto’s vocal climate advocacy has put Kenya on the map. His push for climate finance reform, especially at the global level, has been lauded. However, domestically, his administration is demonstrating inconsistency, announcing green reforms while expanding controversial projects.
Moreover, county governments, crucial players in local environmental governance, often lack resources and coordination. Tree planting events are staged without follow-up. County environment offices are underfunded. Local communities are rarely meaningfully consulted in climate programs.
Yet there are signs of hope. Youth-led climate movements are growing, with groups like Kenya Climate Justice Alliance pushing for accountability. Indigenous communities are organizing to protect their lands and forests. Farmers are adopting climate-smart agriculture, and women-led conservation groups are restoring degraded landscapes.
Kenya’s climate vision is not lacking. It is grand, ambitious, and necessary. But the gap between official statements and actual action remains wide.
Kenya has the potential to lead Africa’s green future. But to do so, it must first confront the uncomfortable truth that climate action is not just about what is promised. It is about what is done. And what is done must be measured not in slogans, but in forests standing, waters flowing, communities thriving, and futures secured.
