By Benadeta Mwaura - Reporter
Kenya, April 29, 2026 - When schools closed for the April holiday in Kenya, the reaction in many households was rarely simple.
For some parents, it brings relief, a temporary break from school fees that have steadily climbed over the years. For others, it signals the beginning of a different kind of pressure, one that shifts from classrooms to the kitchen table.
Because when children come home, the cost of living follows them. Food consumption rises. Electricity bills tick upward. Water usage increases. And in many households already stretched thin, the difference is immediately felt.
According to recent data from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics, food accounts for over 32% of household expenditure, making it the single largest cost for most Kenyan families.
Any increase in consumption, even temporary, quickly translates into financial strain.
It is no surprise then that some parents opt to send their children upcountry during school holidays, not just for family bonding, but as a cost-saving strategy.
Rural living, for many, still offers a slightly lower cost of survival compared to urban centres like Nairobi, where inflation continues to bite.
When I received the school newsletter announcing the April holidays, I was genuinely happy. It meant time with my children. It meant rest for my son in boarding school.
What I did not realise was that I was walking into a financial storm.
The children came home with lists, long, detailed lists of items they were expected to carry back to school. Under the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC), learning has become more interactive, more hands-on, and inevitably, more expensive.
Exercise books. Art materials. Projects. Specialised supplies.
The list kept growing. And so did the cost.
Like many parents, I turned to the only tool that makes uncertainty feel manageable, a budget.
I planned for food, utilities, and school requirements. I assumed my income would remain constant, and if I planned well enough, everything would fall into place.
But the market had other plans.
By the time I stepped out to shop, prices had already shifted. Basic food items, from maize flour to cooking oil, had risen steadily.
A 2kg packet of maize flour now averages between KSh180 and KSh220, while a litre of cooking oil can go for KSh300 to KSh350, depending on the outlet.
My carefully prepared budget could only cover about three-quarters of what I needed.
Then came the utility bills.
Water costs had gone up. Sewer charges had increased by about KSh200. Electricity, already volatile due to fuel cost adjustments, showed no signs of easing.
And just when I thought I had seen it all, a new message came in from the school.
Transport costs had gone up by KSh1,000 per child per term, with a warning that further adjustments could follow depending on fuel price stability.
We made it through the holiday, but just barely.
Because as the days went by, something became clear: the cost of keeping children at home had quietly overtaken the relief of not paying school fees.
Then came the reopening.
If the holiday had been expensive, back-to-school was worse.
Prices had gone up again. The same items now cost more than they did just weeks earlier. Yet income remained unchanged.
According to the Central Bank of Kenya, inflationary pressures, particularly from fuel and food, continue to strain household purchasing power, even as wage growth remains largely stagnant.
At the school gate, the news got heavier.
Fees would be revised.
More from Kenya
Again.
Back-to-school has always been a stressful period. But this time felt different.
There was tension in the air. Conversations were quieter. Smiles were forced.
Out of curiosity, I spoke to other parents. Sometimes we assume everyone is struggling, until we realise just how deep it goes.
One parent admitted that for the first time since enrolling her child, she had not managed to raise even half the school fees.
“Life has become difficult,” she said. “I use matatus now, even though I have a car. Not because I can’t afford fuel, but because I have to cut costs. We even shop in bulk with neighbours just to save something.”
Her voice carried more than just words. It carried fatigue.
Across Kenya, this is becoming the norm. A recent survey by TIFA Research found that a majority of households are cutting back on non-essential spending, with many reducing even basic consumption like food and transport.
Inside the school, the reality became even clearer.
There were empty desks.
When I finally spoke to the administration, they confirmed what many had already sensed.
They had recorded 35 student transfers in a single term.
“When we asked parents why, many said they were moving their children to cheaper schools or public institutions,” the administrator explained.
The disappointment was visible.
The school had recently invested in new infrastructure, expanding classrooms in anticipation of higher enrolment. Instead, the numbers were going down.
“Our focus now is to retain the students we have,” he added. “If the economy does not improve, we will have to rethink our strategy.”
That moment stayed with me.
Because if families that can still afford private education are struggling, what about those who cannot?
Kenya’s poverty levels remain a growing concern. According to estimates by the World Bank, millions of Kenyans remain vulnerable to slipping below the poverty line, especially as the cost of essentials continues to rise.
And at the centre of it all is the child.
A child who still needs to learn.
A parent who still needs to provide.
An economy that is becoming harder to navigate.
The cost of living in Kenya is no longer an abstract economic term.
It is a lived experience.
It is in the shopping basket that no longer fills.
In the school fees that no longer add up.
In the quiet conversations at school gates.
In the empty desks in classrooms.
For many parents, raising a child today is no longer just about providing opportunities.
It is about making impossible choices.
And as the gap between income and cost continues to widen, one question lingers:
How long can families keep adjusting, before something gives?