The government’s recent decision to slash school capitation from KSh22,244 is not just a budgetary adjustment; it is a reckless and short-sighted attack on the very foundation of Kenya’s future.

It signals a betrayal of the bold vision that the late former President Mwai Kibaki once dared to dream: a Kenya where every child, regardless of background, has access to free, quality education.

Kibaki’s introduction of free primary education in 2003 was met with scepticism and resistance. Critics said it was overly ambitious, that the country lacked the infrastructure, and that the system would collapse under the weight of too many children and too few resources.

But he proved them wrong. Millions of children who would never have seen the inside of a classroom were suddenly holding books and wearing uniforms. It was imperfect, yes, but it was revolutionary. It was a signal to every Kenyan family that their children mattered, that their dreams mattered.

To now turn around and strangle that same dream is not just bad policy; it is a moral failure.

Education is not luxury

Education is not a luxury. It is the most powerful engine of empowerment this country has ever had. And if there’s one thing no government should joke with, it’s the Kenyan dream, the dream of every child rising through the ranks of society through learning, discipline, and opportunity. That dream was made real under Kibaki. It must not be undone by political indifference disguised as fiscal responsibility.

Cabinet Secretary for the Treasury, John Mbadi, has attempted to rationalise the move by proposing a merger of the National Government Constituencies Development Fund (NG-CDF) and the National Government Affirmative Action Fund (NGAAF) into a single education fund. According to him, 40 per cent of that pooled resource would go to schools, with the Treasury at the helm of management.

On paper, it sounds logical. In reality, it is a gamble, one that could further destabilise an already struggling sector. For many public schools, especially those in rural and marginalised regions, capitation grants are a lifeline. Slashing them sends a chilling message: education is no longer a national priority.

Let’s be brutally honest. You cannot claim to be serious about youth empowerment while choking off their access to books, desks, clean toilets, and trained teachers. You cannot justify cuts to school budgets while simultaneously funding photo-op empowerment programs with murky objectives and massive administrative costs. And you certainly cannot call this prudence while millions vanish into ghost projects, inflated tenders, and unexplained delegations.

The government must get its priorities right.

Education is not a cost; it is the smartest investment a nation can make. Every shilling denied to a child today is a job lost tomorrow, a dream delayed, a generation dimmed. How can we hope to compete globally when our classrooms are overcrowded, our teachers are underpaid, and our students are learning under trees or in crumbling structures?

Education gamble?

This is not simply a financial issue; it is a matter of fairness. Already, poor families must stretch themselves thin just to keep their children in school. Cutting capitation only widens the inequality gap, making education a preserve of the wealthy while pushing everyone else further to the margins.

If the government is serious about reform, let it start by cleaning up wasteful spending elsewhere, not in classrooms. Let it trim bloated administrative costs, shut down idle white-elephant projects, and crack down on public fund looters. School children should not pay the price for the greed and mismanagement of the political class.

Even the proposed fund merger of NG-CDF and NGAAF into one can only work if managed with ironclad transparency and free from political interference. In today’s Kenya, where oversight is weak and patronage thrives, placing such a fund under the Treasury without proper checks risks turning it into yet another slush fund for the politically connected.

Kenya cannot afford to gamble on its future like this.

Every great nation has understood this simple truth: when you invest in education, you invest in people. You nurture innovators, entrepreneurs, civil servants, and leaders. You create not just a literate population, but an empowered one.

Slashing capitation is a betrayal of the promises made to Kenyan children. It undermines everything this country has fought for since Kibaki dared to break the cycle of illiteracy.

The government must reverse this decision immediately. It must reaffirm its commitment to free and quality education for every Kenyan child. Anything less is not just a budget cut—it is a betrayal of public trust, of the national ethos, and of the very soul of our republic.

Because when we abandon our schools, we abandon our future. And no clever accounting or empty promises can ever disguise that truth.