Finance Bill 2024 Protests

Posted on by Ndeye Kane

Kisii, Kenya

On a Thursday night at Dan’s Hotel Restaurant in Kisii, Kenya, my fellow Kisii Konya Oroiboro Project (KIKOP) interns and I sat around a dimly lit booth with the KIKOP Project Coordinator, Anne. Our eyes were glued to the television screen across the room, watching the Kenyan Parliament’s second vote on the Finance Bill 2024. We had been to Dan’s several times – it was a quiet restaurant close to our hostel where we often enjoyed matoke (a dish of bananas and tomato sauce) and french fries – but never had we seen the crowd that then formed around the bar, faces drawn in concern as their MPs voted on whether to approve substantial tax increases across Kenya on necessities like bread. It felt like the entire city was collectively holding its breath.

“What will happen if they pass this bill?” I asked Anne as an MP on the television screen stood up to cast his vote. Riots will happen, Anne said. People will die.

Murmurs of displeasure rippled around the room as the Parliament’s decision appeared on screen. The bill had passed by over 100 votes. Now the Finance Bill 2024 only needed to pass its third reading before being signed into law by President Ruto.

As riots broke out across Kenya in the next week, we were asked to stay in our hostel. We watched from the roof as protesters marched past on the road in Kisii, their voices carried on the wind. From our removed bubble, we saw the news unfold and police brutality claim the lives of over 20 people six hours away in Nairobi, hearing pundits repeatedly chalk it up to Gen Z and their violent defense of their ideals, and President Ruto label it “anarchy.” It was simultaneously surreal and visceral – here was a movement of Kenyans protesting peacefully against a proposed 16% levy on bread, eggs, onion, and potatoes that would make it that much more difficult to get by, and they were met with water cannons and live ammunition.

Meeting poster for Kisii protest against Finance Bill 2024 that circulated on social media

In June of 2023, the Kenyan Parliament had passed a similarly controversial Finance Bill. This bill included substantial income tax increases, a mandatory housing levy, and an 8% increase in value-added tax (VAT) on petroleum products.1 Despite these measures, in December 2023, Kenya’s external debt had risen to over 6 trillion Kenyan shillings (Ksh), (about 45.5 billion U.S. dollars).2 Kenya’s Finance Bill 2024 is the latest attempt made by the Kenyan government to control the country’s debt. It includes provisions such as a 5% increase on all money transfers through Kenya’s primary mobile money service, M-PESA, a 25% excise tax on cooking oils, and a 16% VAT on bread and other staples.3

In response to the deadly protests against Finance Bill 2024, President Ruto refused to sign the contentious bill into law, and fired almost his entire cabinet. Nevertheless, Kenyans are calling for his resignation. Their discontent stems from decades of corruption in Kenyan politics, which has fostered an entrenched distrust in the government, and President Ruto in particular. In 2022, the National Ethics and Corruption Survey found that 64% of people in Kenya reported that they had paid bribes to access government regulated goods and services including procurement of business licenses, police protection, and accessing essential services like healthcare.4

Three posters for Total Shutdown Tuesdays, which have occurred every week since the initial protest against Finance Bill 2024.

In the scramble for a temporary solution, President Ruto has decided to initiate 177 billion Ksh (~1.3 billion U.S. dollars) in budget cuts to governmental entities, including suspending the office of Chief Administrative Secretaries and removing all extensions past 60 year-retirement for all civil servants.5 One thing is for certain: this is not a permanent fix.

As Kenyans continue to protest Ruto’s presidency, we are wrapping up the in-person portion of our practicum and getting ready to fly out of Nairobi. Something I have been grappling with is how to stand in solidarity with Kenyan youth, given that this internship position is a six-week visit in the midst of an issue that has spanned several years. Participating in the dissemination of information is a tangible action that I’ve taken part in, but this is bigger than a few weeks of riots – this is something that will likely continue for the next several months. Moving forward, I’ve realized that while this practicum has flown by quickly, the relationships I have built with the KIKOP staff, interns, and volunteers have nurtured a more permanent tie to Kenya, for which I am deeply grateful, and don’t take lightly. I am hopeful that the political shifts that ensue over the coming years will protect and support the health and wellbeing of Kenyans, but in the meantime, I will continue to stay on top of current events and work to support the changes that they seek in my capacity as a student, a voter, and a public health professional.

– Kait

 

  1. MZALENDO TRUST ANALYSIS OF THE FINANCE BILL 2023. May 2023. Accessed July 18, 2024. https://mzalendo.com/media/resources/Mzalendo_Trust_Analysis_of_the_Finance_Bill_2023_cqmBhgN.pdf.
  2. Cowling N. Kenya: External Debt 2023. Statista. March 18, 2024. Accessed July 18, 2024. https://www.statista.com/statistics/1223191/cumulative-external-debt-of-kenya/#:~:text=As%20of%20December%202023%2C%20the,of%20the%20country’s%20total%20debt.
  3. Magale E. Kenya protests show citizens don’t trust government with their tax money: Can Ruto make a meaningful new deal?: University of Pretoria. Kenya protests show citizens don’t trust government with their tax money: can Ruto make a meaningful new deal? | University of Pretoria. July 17, 2024. Accessed July 18, 2024. https://www.up.ac.za/faculty-of-humanities/news/post_3242063-kenya-protests-show-citizens-dont-trust-government-with-their-tax-money-can-ruto-make-a-meaningful-new-deal.
  4. Onyango G. Hotbed of corruption: Kenya’s elite have captured the state – unrest is inevitable. The Conversation. June 30, 2024. Accessed July 18, 2024. https://theconversation.com/hotbed-of-corruption-kenyas-elite-have-captured-the-state-unrest-is-inevitable-233562.
  5. Nyamori M, Langat P. President Ruto announces sh177bn budget cuts. Business Daily. July 5, 2024. Accessed July 18, 2024. https://www.businessdailyafrica.com/bd/economy/ruto-announces-sh177bn-budget-cuts–4680590.

 

Thank You Ugat for an Unforgettable Summer

Posted on by Ndeye Kane

Now that my time in the Philippines has ended, it is difficult to concisely put my experience into words. Maybe in six months, I’ll be able to write holistically about it, but I’ll give it a go. I am so thankful for this experience and all the people I met while working at Ugat. Their approach to improving health in their community is so attuned to what people need and full of compassion, which are two of the most important qualities of successful public health work. I saw firsthand the success of the sexual health education classes, where students went from believing that jumping up and down after sex would prevent pregnancy to knowing where to access free condoms in their community. I was deeply inspired by everyone on the Youth Team and bouncing ideas off each other was one of my happiest memories there.

Pride Parade in El Nido, Palawan

I was also struck by the beauty of Palawan. On the island, you can find one of the seven natural wonders of the world, an underground river that runs through a cave. You could see for miles in the clear, light blue water and witness some of the most amazing sunsets in the world. But while experiences like swimming with whale sharks will be awe-inspiring forever, it’s the intangible moments of beauty that I will really miss. I miss passing the same people every morning and saying hello to them, hailing the correct multicab to go to the mall, thrifting at the spot across the street from Ugat, singing in the office while making my PowerPoints, etc., because it was in those moments that Puerto became familiar.

Picture of the Youth Team at Ate Ami’s Birthday Dinner

On the first night of my stay in the Philippines, I woke up around 3 a.m. to the sound of heavy rain on the roofs around my apartment and loud singing coming from down the street. The singing helped calm my nerves and eventually lulled me back to sleep. I thought the singing was part of the Baragatan Festival that had just kicked off or some sort of party from one of my neighbors. But as I was adjusting to the 12-hour time difference, I would frequently wake up in the middle of the night and would regularly hear that loud singing. Around my second to last week, I finally found the man who had been singing karaoke the whole summer. It was a man who owned a shop down the street from my apartment, whom I had said good morning to on most mornings. During my final week, I heard a new voice singing, and as I peeked into the shop to see who the new voice belonged to, my neighbor popped out and invited me in to sing a round with them. This was around the time of my trip when the reality that I was leaving had started to sink in, and I couldn’t believe my luck that the man who had helped ease me into my new life was also the man helping me remember all the beautiful things about Puerto while easing me back to the U.S.

The view of a sunset outside of my apartment

~ Dana

The Warmth of Connection: Practicum Reflections from Mozambique

Posted on by Adriana Gaona

Two months ago feels like a lifetime ago, before I fell in love with the vibrant, charming city of Maputo. Before heading to Mozambique for my practicum, I was filled with nervous anticipation, and I had set a goal for myself that no matter how the whole of my practicum goes, that I would advance my life-skills of flexibility, adaptability, and self-sufficiency through this experience. I wanted to confirm that I had the commitment and ability to enter the field of global public health and be able to make meaningful contributions to the communities I worked with. I knew that it was easy to say that I am interested in working in a global setting, but of course an entirely different story when I am in a new country, navigating cultures and experiences that are unfamiliar to me.

With gratitude, I owe it to my parents for raising me as a global citizen. They raised me in a bicultural household in the United States and Japan, encouraging my travels and experiences in different countries, and fostering my love and never-ending curiosity of people and their cultures. My bachelors in Anthropology gave me the tools to lovingly interact with the core of people’s identities and taught me grave warnings of how curiosity without boundaries, permission, or consideration of power-dynamics brings considerable, tangible harm to individuals and their communities. My bachelors in Women’s and Gender Studies taught me that no work is done in a vacuum and no research can be objective so long as the identities we hold move us in the work that we do and the products we create. Both fields showed me that it is crucial to understand and reflect on the identities and beliefs I hold and taught me how to acknowledge this in the work I do, qualitative research, whose heart lies in the connection between people. Now, my studies in Public Health give me the language and skills to navigate the culture and landscape of global public health and connect the gap between understanding problems and creating meaningful solutions.

All of these parts of my identity and education are what I brought along with me in my journey to Mozambique, but one crucial part was missing, which was my ability to speak Portuguese. I realized that in contexts where I understood the language, I was receiving so much connection daily with others, through small interactions, that I was unable to do in this setting. But I also discovered how much I was able to communicate through body language and context clues (my beginner level Spanish also helped). Gratitude bloomed at every interaction where patience and effort were afforded to me and I was never treated with annoyance for my inability to speak. So despite the language barrier that existed with many of those I interacted with in my time in Maputo and Lichinga, the work I did was informed by community workers and local staff, which I was able to build relationships with. The many conversations I had over translation apps warmed my heart, knowing that despite the difficulty of communication, my coworkers and community partners were willing to sit and patiently create a bond with me.

Photo taken at the end of a training day for qualitative research.

 

From these connections was I able to offer my services in qualitative research, always deferring to the knowledge and experiences of the community facilitators who conducted focus groups with youth to understand what they wanted and needed from the Center for Reproductive Justice. There was of course another barrier, culture, but similar to how I adapted questionnaires and materials based on feedback, once the community facilitators understood the intent of our questioning, was able to adapt the language to something that was more appropriate for the setting. So, although at times I felt alone during my time in Lichinga (less so with my furry friends!), connections are what drive the heart of public health work we do with communities, and I hope to see Maputo again after I graduate. Tchau tchau until then!

Pretest for questionnaires being conducted by Ipas staff and community partners.

 

Anselmo Matambo (Ipas community facilitator), me, and my research assistant, Dr. Sandra Mulumba.

 

The lap cat at my guesthouse who often kept me company.

 

Alyssa