How sick Kenya Shilling is destroying lives

By Dann Okoth

Today, beyond the safe zone of theoretical economics that drives Kenya’s monetary policy, millions are hurting, unable to buy even the barest of necessities.

Rose Wango: Prices of unga have doubled

A massive increase in the population of urban centres has swelled the masses of those living on less than Sh107 (one US dollar) a day.

According to a document dubbed The People’s Budget that contained slum dwellers’ wish list to Finance Minister Uhuru Kenyatta ahead of the Budget speech in Parliament in June, a family of three (father, mother and child) in a slum needed Sh844 per day for meals, going by the food prices at the time.

The cost is broken down to include

breakfast at Sh147, lunch at Sh235, and supper at Sh196. Other outstanding items such as water and paraffin amount to Sh259.

It is more likely that they need at least Sh1,000 to make to the next morning on a full belly.

Many of the Kenyans interviewed by The Standard on Wednesday have never heard words like "interest rate differential, inflation, austerity measures, and global financial crisis" so familiar to Central Bank of Kenya Governor Njuguna Ndung’u. But they know something is wrong with the shilling.

They know this because there was a time they could stretch Sh75 to last two days. That was when they hovered just above the poverty line. Then Sh75 was equal to one US dollar. Today they need twice that to make it through the day following the heavy depreciation of the shilling, but chances are they do not make even Sh50.

Duncan Kamau: Blames high fuel prices

Grinding unemployment that has made a laughing stock of the Government’s "500,000 jobs a year" mantra is an ever-present reality.

They are the poorest of the poor, the forgotten masses who trek to work to save money, and trudge back to their slum dwellings every evening.

Prices for essential commodities have skyrocketed to the extent that many Kenyans no longer buy bread or bother with milk in their tea.

They have been boxed into a corner, and revelations by Prof Ndung’u that the cost of food, fuel and essential goods will remain high for the next six months only adds to their gloom.

With fuel going for as much as Sh119 per litre, maize flour retailing at Sh190 per packet, kerosene at Sh85 per litre, sugar at Sh175 per kilo and cooking oil at Sh100 per litre in Nairobi, the poorest of the poor have also adopted pitiful austerity measures of their own.

Tucked away in the deep underbelly of Sinai Slum is Mary Akoth. She and her family survived the recent fire tragedy caused by leaking oil from a burst pipeline, but now engage in a daily dance with hunger, poverty, and death.

"We escaped post-election violence in Naivasha to settle here, but life has been very difficult especially after prices of essential commodities shot through the roof," she says.

"My husband earns very little from his hawking job, about 150 per day or less. We cannot afford unga (maize flour) or kerosene," she says.

A mug of githeri in the slum goes for Sh35. The family needs five such mugs, but it can occasionally only afford two, meaning the parents have to go hungry.

Sleep hungry

But when the husband returns home empty handed, the whole family of five, including Akoth’s three-year-old daughter, would go to bed hungry.

The koroboi (tin lamp) hanging on the wall in Mary’s tiny shack billows black smoke and the small girl coughs incessantly.

But today, if you gave Mary Sh1,000 she would spend none of it to take her baby to hospital.

"First I would set aside Sh400 to take to the landlord who has been threatening us with eviction for defaulting on rent. Then I would buy two 1kg tins of maize at Sh120 a kilo, and mill them for Sh30."

"Having secured unga, I would buy another two tins of dagaa (omena) retailing at Sh200 a kilo, this will sure go a long way," she says.

"I would then buy a litre of kerosene at Sh85 and a half litre of cooking oil at Sh50, with a balance of Sh5,"she details.

Her counterpart Liz Santos from Kibera, who runs a small business, says it is almost impossible to make ends meet.

"I only have three children, but I feel like my existence is a continuous struggle. It is becoming difficult to put food on the table," she says.

Even with the social protection fund, where the Government extends Sh1,500 to the destitute to cater for basic needs like food, clothing and medicine, spiraling inflation wipes it out almost as soon as it is received.

"What happens when the price of unga more than doubles in less one month?" poses Rose Wango, 65.

"Does it mean the money also doubles?" he asks.

When the social protection programmes are no longer effective, as is the case now, people resort to desperate measures to survive, including crime and prostitution.

Low wage earners like watchmen, cooks and house helps are also thrown off balance by the high food and commodity prices. They soon join the destitute bracket in the slums, further compounding the delicate social balance.

Sh1,000 buys even fewer items for those on the high-end. "In 1995, I took the trolley whenever I walked into a supermarket armed with a thousand shillings," says Charles Kagwanja a civil servant, and a resident of Utawala village in Embakasi.

"As years went by, the value of the shilling continued to dwindle. Gradually the trolley was replaced by the hand-held basket," he notes.

"I no longer bother carrying a basket when I have Sh1,000 in my pocket because I know I can carry all the shopping in my hands," he adds.

Initially inflation was attributed to high oil and energy prices. But the current phenomenon is puzzling because prices of oil in the international markets have been stable – around $83 per barrel.

There are fears fuel prices will go up again when the Energy Regulatory Commission releases its monthly retail price guidelines soon.

Worryingly though, the people inflation affects the most appear not to know what it is all about.

Asked why he thought prices of commodities keep rising, Mr Karimi Kariuki a shoe shiner in Kibera, said: "It is corruption. Hawa watu ni corrupt na wako greedy (These people (read leaders) are corrupt and greedy)," he charges.

Surprisingly though, a number of slum dwellers, like Gideon Abonga from Eastleigh and Duncan Kamau from Kikuyu have an idea of what is ailing the economy.

"I think life expectancy has gone up, but there are fewer resources," says the man who takes care of seven orphans.

Kamau blames the problem on the rising prices of fuel locally.

The poorest of the poor are also very detached from Government programmes, something the State has naively ignored, even as the country enters an election year.

Take Mr Justus Omondi of Kware estate for instance who thinks Vision 2030 – the Government’s blueprint for economic and social growth – is a political party.

"The cost of living has gone over the roof. A majority of Kenyans cannot afford basic necessities," says Athman Saidi, the People’s Budget Steering Committee chairman.

The People’s Budget is a thematic group with the Nairobi Peoples’ Settlement Network dealing with fiscal issues affecting the poorest of the poor.

"From the People’s Budget it is clear that a poor family cannot be expected to live on a dollar a day (about Sh107) and still have dignified life," says Saidi.

Even with these changes, a poor family will need Sh259 per day for breakfast, lunch and dinner," he says.

According to the group, the data on poverty, inequality and unemployment provides a background to understanding the role of the Budget in development.

The group supports the new Price Controls Act that seeks to set prices of basic services and commodities.

"We also demand that working wages be increased to about Sh15, 000 per month in formal and informal employment sectors," says Sudi.