Once again, the Kenyan government is selling hope in a glittering package with the launch of the National Youth Opportunities Towards Advancement (NYOTA) Programme.
On paper, NYOTA appears to be a well-intentioned youth empowerment initiative. With promises of business support grants, on-the-job stipends, and savings incentives, the programme claims to address the economic challenges facing young Kenyans.
But scratch beneath the surface, and a familiar script reveals itself. One that we've seen before with the so-called Hustler Fund. A political gimmick dressed as an economic solution.
This administration has perfected the art of public relations and empty slogans. They market poverty as innovation and repackage old failures as new breakthroughs.
NYOTA, like the Hustler Fund, is another elaborate scheme designed less to solve youth unemployment and more to harvest votes, capture emotions, and project false benevolence. We must ask: how many times will Kenyan youth be used as pawns in an electoral chess game?
Sh28 billion has been earmarked for the NYOTA programme, targeting over 100,000 youth across the country. It sounds impressive until you break it down. Sh50,000 per beneficiary, disbursed in two phases, Sh30,000 upfront, and Sh20,000 later, but only upon meeting unspecified "milestones." This is not transformational capital. It is not even enough to stock a basic kiosk, let alone build a scalable enterprise. The amount is symbolic at best and patronizing at worst.
More importantly, it is not sustainable. If the government was serious about youth entrepreneurship, it would take this Sh28 billion and channel it into a revolving fund managed by credible financial institutions such as Cooperative Bank or KCB.
These banks already have the infrastructure and experience in managing small business loans. With clear risk guarantees and a government-backed interest rate of 3 per cent, youth would access real capital that grows and regenerates. Not these one-off grants that encourage dependency and vanish before impact can be measured.
Additionally, the On-the-Job Experience (OJE) component is disturbingly inadequate. A Sh6,000 monthly stipend for interns working three to six months barely covers transport and lunch, let alone daily needs. These are not living wages. They are hush-money handouts to keep youth temporarily pacified and politically compliant.
The government claims this initiative will enhance employability, but what happens after the internship ends? What job pathways have been built? Where is the private sector integration? Where is the labour market strategy?
The Haba Haba savings scheme under the National Social Security Fund (NSSF) sounds well-meaning, but even this is an illusion. The programme deposits Sh1,000 monthly into individual accounts for six months, again, a pittance that cannot form the basis of long-term financial security. Furthermore, the emphasis on saving such small sums while youth remain jobless and unsupported in their ambitions is tone-deaf. You cannot save your way out of poverty if you are earning nothing meaningful.
The NYOTA programme, like its predecessor, the Hustler Fund, is heavy on structure and light on strategy. It lacks a clear philosophy on youth development. It does not address systemic issues like access to credit, mentorship, value chain inclusion, or regional disparities.
Most importantly, it lacks institutional credibility. Kenyans have not forgotten that the Hustler Fund was riddled with opacity, unclear disbursement mechanisms, and no measurable outcomes. NYOTA, we fear, is heading in the same direction.
Why does the government keep reinventing shallow programmes rather than fixing existing institutions? Why not empower the Youth Enterprise Development Fund (YEDF), the Women Enterprise Fund, or the Uwezo Fund with real resources, real reforms, and real accountability? Why not build long-term, coordinated partnerships with county governments, the private sector, and technical institutions to provide jobs, not just stipends?
Here lies the truth: Kenya does not lack resources. We lack sincerity. We lack a leadership that is willing to think beyond electoral cycles.
A government that truly values youth would not use them as political props. It would build structures that outlast its term in office. It would measure success not in the number of cheques handed out, but in the number of young people who have risen out of poverty, grown real businesses, created jobs, and contributed taxes to the economy.
So, when will these games stop? When will the youth stop being courted only during campaign seasons? When will we stop mistaking charity for empowerment and propaganda for policy?
Kenyans must demand more. The youth of this country are not looking for handouts. They are looking for opportunity, dignity, and a government that takes their potential seriously.
NYOTA may be marketed as a star of hope, but unless we radically shift how we support youth, it will soon burn out like all the other false dawns we’ve seen before. We cannot afford another failed promise. Kenya’s youth deserve better.
