Why Kenya's carbon economy will be judged by the social contracts it builds

Samburu Governor Lati Lelelit (second right) receives a dummy cheque of Sh 10 million from NRT officials led by carbon credit project director Dr Mohammed Shibia (centre), on February 28, 2024, in Maralal town. [File, Standard]

In the rangelands of northern Kenya, the carbon economy is redefining ownership, value and conservation. Communities that have grazed livestock on the communal landscapes for generations are now receiving payments not for what they produce, but for what they protect. Grasslands once dismissed as subsistence grazing land are increasingly recognised as globally significant carbon sinks.

As the first carbon revenues reach community conservancies, however, they raise critical questions. Who owns the carbon stored beneath communal land? Who determines its value? And who ultimately benefits from its sale? These are not technical or administrative matters, they are tests of legitimacy. Between the optimism of green investors and the scepticism of climate critics lies a simple truth: carbon credits are not merely environmental assets, they are institutional expressions of trust.

For many, carbon markets remain difficult to comprehend. Supporters describe them as innovative mechanisms that reward communities for conserving nature. Critics dismiss them as little more than commercialisation of thin air. That debate has moved beyond international climate conferences into county assemblies and village discussions across the country. For the first time, pastoralist and indigenous communities that have protected these ecosystems for generations are earning income from services the world now values. 

As Andrew Dokhole, a respected community leader in northern Kenya, has observed, the greatest challenge is not ecological but educational. Communities must fully understand carbon markets before committing to agreements that often span decades.

Unlike tea, coffee or livestock, carbon cannot be seen, touched or traded in a local market. Its value depends on satellite monitoring, ecological modelling and highly technical verification systems.

Such knowledge asymmetry naturally breeds suspicion. If communities cannot understand how carbon is measured or priced, they cannot confidently defend their rights to it. Without sustained technical support and independent legal advice, what should be an empowering partnership risks becoming an opaque transaction.

Public scepticism towards carbon finance is rooted in history. In much of the Global South, discoveries of oil, minerals, timber and gas have repeatedly promised prosperity while delivering environmental degradation, displacement and unequal wealth. History reminds us that weak governance allows valuable natural resources to become drivers of inequality rather than shared prosperity. Carbon must not become the latest chapter in that story. Fortunately, carbon finance offers a fundamentally different proposition. Wealth is created not by extracting natural resources but by keeping ecosystems intact, aligning economic incentives with environmental stewardship.

Research from Oxford Net Zero suggests that Kenya's carbon market will succeed not because of sophisticated carbon accounting alone, but because of equitable governance, institutional integrity and transparent benefit-sharing. Science may calculate tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent stored beneath the soil, but trust determines whether communities will continue protecting that soil for decades. Conservation cannot succeed without local legitimacy.

Three pillars of carbon governance 

If Kenya is to build a carbon economy that is both globally credible and socially just, carbon must be treated not simply as a financial commodity but as a public trust. That requires three fundamental pillars.

First, radical transparency. Communities deserve complete visibility into the financial value chain. They should know how much carbon is being sold, the prices achieved on international markets, the costs deducted by intermediaries and the share returning to local communities. If only international consultants and lawyers can understand the system, then the system itself requires reform.

Second, free, prior and informed consent. Genuine consent cannot be reduced to signatures on attendance registers. It must be voluntary, informed and continuous throughout a project's lifespan. Carbon projects frequently overlap communal land governed by customary institutions, cultural traditions and seasonal grazing systems. Successful initiatives must strengthen these indigenous governance structures rather than replace them with externally imposed corporate models.

Third, accountable intermediaries. Project developers, NGOs and investors must be judged not only by the volume of credits they generate or profits they earn, but by the strength of the relationships they build with host communities. Ethical stewardship should become the defining measure of success.

When carbon revenues are shared fairly, they can transform rural economies. Their greatest value lies not in individual payouts but in collective investments that strengthen community resilience, solar-powered water systems, healthcare, education bursaries and climate-smart livelihoods. Sadia Mohammed, a community leader in northern Kenya, has witnessed how directing carbon revenues into women's groups and local enterprises generates benefits that extend far beyond household incomes. Investments in women strengthen nutrition, education and local commerce, creating lasting social returns.

Women and young people are the primary custodians of these landscapes, yet they have too often been excluded from formal negotiations over land and natural resources. A truly inclusive green economy demands that they are represented where decisions are made. Young conservationists, elders and women alike must participate as equal partners, not passive beneficiaries of international climate finance.

Equally important is an enabling regulatory environment. Clear legislation, a transparent national carbon registry and accessible grievance mechanisms do not discourage investment; they strengthen it. Robust regulation protects reputable investors while safeguarding communities from speculative or low-integrity projects. It provides certainty for both markets and local people. 

Leading with integrity

Kenya stands at an important crossroads. The country has earned global recognition for its leadership in renewable energy and climate diplomacy. Its emerging carbon market offers another opportunity, to demonstrate that environmental ambition can be matched by social justice.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC 2023) is unequivocal that limiting global warming to 1.5°C requires rapid, deep and sustained reductions in greenhouse gas emissions alongside the protection and restoration of natural ecosystems that absorb and store carbon. Kenya's grasslands, forests and rangelands therefore represent more than national natural assets; they are part of the global climate solution. Carbon finance should reward their stewardship while reinforcing, not replacing, the urgent responsibility of major emitters to decarbonise.

Yet carbon markets are not a silver bullet. They cannot substitute for the urgent decarbonisation required of major industrial economies, nor should they become the sole economic strategy for rural communities whose livelihoods must remain diverse and resilient.

- The author is the CEO of African Biodiversity Alliance. Her work focuses on climate governance, biodiversity conservation, environmental policy and sustainable development.