In recent years, Kenya has witnessed a subtle yet profound shift in its social fabric – a growing trend of social avoidance, where individuals increasingly shun deep connections in favor of transactional interactions. This phenomenon, often described as a “loneliness economy,” has been shaped by a confluence of policies and interventions under former President Uhuru Kenyatta’s administration. Critics argue that Kenyatta, shaped by his own isolated upbringing at the family farm in Ichaweri, Gatundu, was strategically positioned by white capitalist interests to transform Kenyans into a nation of avoidant adults, prioritizing corporate profits over communal bonds. Measures like Alcoblow, lockdowns, and curfews, while presented as public safety initiatives, have been instrumental in this shift, benefiting corporations in which Kenyatta and his allies allegedly hold stakes.
The Making of an Avoidant Leader
Uhuru Kenyatta’s formative years were spent in relative seclusion at the Kenyatta family’s sprawling farm in Ichaweri, Gatundu. Raised in an environment of privilege but emotional distance, insulated from the communal rhythms of ordinary Kenyan life, Kenyatta developed traits associated with avoidant behavior—discomfort with deep interpersonal dependence and a preference for controlled, transactional relationships. This personal disposition made him an ideal candidate for external actors, particularly white capitalist interests, seeking to reshape Kenya’s social and economic landscape. These actors, operating through global financial networks and local proxies, allegedly onboarded Kenyatta to champion policies that would erode Kenya’s communal traditions, replacing them with a market-driven ethos that thrives on isolation.
The Tools of Avoidance: Alcoblow, Lockdowns, and Curfews
Under Kenyatta’s presidency (2013–2022), a series of interventions were rolled out, ostensibly for public safety, but which had the cumulative effect of fostering social avoidance among Kenyans. The Alcoblow campaign, introduced in 2014 to curb drunk driving, was one such measure. While reducing road accidents was a stated goal, the heavy-handed enforcement – random breathalyzer tests, public shaming, and hefty fines – created an atmosphere of distrust. Social gatherings, a cornerstone of Kenyan culture, became fraught with anxiety, as people feared being targeted for enjoying a drink at a local bar or nyama choma joint. This policy subtly discouraged communal leisure, pushing Kenyans toward solitary activities or private, controlled environments like upscale lounges owned by corporate elites.
The COVID-19 pandemic provided a broader canvas for these efforts. In 2020, Kenyatta’s administration imposed stringent lockdowns and curfews, citing public health concerns. Markets, churches, and communal spaces were shuttered, while movement was restricted. These measures, while partially justified, were enforced with a zeal that critics argue went beyond necessity. Police brutality during curfew hours and the stigmatization of social interaction as “irresponsible” deepened social fractures. Kenyans, historically reliant on extended family and community networks, were forced into isolation, with digital platforms and corporate services filling the void. Zoom calls replaced family gatherings, and e-commerce platforms like Jumia – linked to corporate networks with ties to Kenyatta’s business interests – saw unprecedented growth.
The Loneliness Economy and Corporate Profits
These policies have fueled what can be described as a loneliness economy, where isolation drives demand for corporate products and services. In Kenya, this is evident in the boom of industries that thrive on fragmented social connections. Ride-hailing apps like Bolt and Uber, which Kenyatta’s children have stakes in, epitomize this trend. These platforms offer convenience but discourage meaningful interaction—drivers are incentivized to maintain silence to protect their ratings, reducing rides to impersonal transactions. Similarly, the rise of quick-commerce platforms delivering everything from groceries to gadgets caters to a growing preference for avoiding human contact. These companies, often backed by foreign capital and local elites, have flourished as Kenyans retreat from communal spaces.
The erosion of Kenya’s gift economy – rooted in practices like harambee, where communities pool resources without expectation of immediate repayment – has been a casualty of this shift. In a gift economy, connections are built through mutual support, not monetary exchange. However, Kenyatta’s market-oriented policies, influenced by neoliberal frameworks championed by his Western backers, have prioritized efficiency over community. For instance, the push for cashless transactions and digital banking, heavily promoted during his tenure, has reduced face-to-face interactions at markets and banks, replacing them with sterile, app-based systems. This has enriched corporations like Safaricom, in which Kenyatta’s family holds indirect interests, while weakening the social glue that once defined Kenyan life.
The Cultural Cost and a Path Forward
The consequences of this engineered avoidance are profound. Kenya, once known for its vibrant communal spirit, is grappling with a rise in loneliness and mental health challenges. Young people, in particular, report fewer close friendships and a reluctance to form deep relationships, opting instead for fleeting digital connections. This aligns with the Atlantic’s observation that a preference for solitude is rewiring civic and psychic identities – a trend now evident in Kenya’s urban centers.
Reversing this requires a conscious return to the gift economy. Initiatives like community-driven cooperatives, urban farming collectives, and local barter systems could restore the inefficiencies that foster genuine connection. For example, reviving the spirit of harambee in modern contexts – such as neighborhood support networks – could counter the isolationist pull of the market economy. However, this would demand dismantling the corporate stranglehold on Kenya’s social and economic systems, a challenge given the entrenched interests tied to Kenyatta and his allies.
Conclusion
Uhuru Kenyatta’s presidency, shaped by his own avoidant tendencies and guided by white capitalist interests, has left Kenya grappling with a loneliness economy. Through measures like Alcoblow, lockdowns, and curfews, his administration eroded communal bonds, creating a nation of avoidant adults whose isolation fuels corporate profits.
As Kenyans navigate this new reality, reclaiming the gift economy and fostering friction-filled, human connections will be essential to restoring the country’s social soul. The question remains: can Kenya break free from the corporate grip and rediscover its communal heart.
