Gen Z in Kenya is fired up. We are marching, posting, tweeting, and organising. From corruption to climate, our generation is calling out injustice like never before. But in our quest for perfection, we may be sabotaging the power we so desperately seek.
We've created a culture where one wrong word, one flawed ally, can lead to online exile. We talk of justice yet wield moral purity like a sword. If every misstep is unforgivable, who is left to fight alongside us?
Kenya's youth spend an average of four hours a day online, according to a 2024 GeoPoll report. We've turned X, TikTok, Facebook and Instagram into battlefields for change. Hashtags have rocked the status quo.
However, social media doesn't just connect us, it also divides us. One misphrased comment, one resurfaced tweet, and the feeding frenzy begins. We don't just debate, we delete. We don't just disagree, we destroy. It's justice by algorithm, and it's making our movements brittle.
Reports on digital rights and internet freedom in Kenya indicate that online self-censorship is a concern among Kenyan youth, driven by fears of negative consequences for their online expression. What does it say about a generation that prides itself on speaking truth to power yet can't speak freely to each other?
Let's be clear: accountability is non-negotiable. However, cancel culture, when driven by ego rather than ethics, becomes toxic. We've seen it happen: activists are torn down for old mistakes, and campaigns derailed over imperfect language.
Our country is grappling with real, grinding problems, for example, joblessness, inflation, and water shortages. Change doesn't come from echo chambers. It comes from coalitions.
Too often, we waste energy debating who's "real" and who's not. We fight over pronouns while young women in informal settlements lack pads. We shame someone for not being radical enough while the actual oppressors smile on, unbothered.
If we want power, not just clout, we must evolve. That means calling in more than we call out. It means challenging a friend privately before dragging them publicly. It means remembering that people can grow and that growth is the point.
Social media can be a place of restoration, not just retribution. Justice without compassion is just vengeance. And vengeance is no blueprint for building a nation.
Kenya's youth account for 75 percent of the population. In the last general election, our voting bloc was the largest, and yet, youth turnout was the lowest. Why? Partly, because we're tired. Tired of infighting, tired of gatekeeping, tired of movements that eat their own.
What if we chose unity over uniformity? What if we all stood under one banner—not because we agree on everything, but because we agree on the future we want?
We could pressure Parliament. Reform county service delivery. Build from below. But not if we keep tearing each other down.
The purity trap is real. We are holding our peers to impossibly high standards while letting systems of oppression go unchecked. Kenya doesn't need perfect active citizens. It needs persistent ones. Strategic ones. Forgiving ones.
Let's not let our moral fire consume us. Let it light the way forward.
The writer is a Strategic Initiatives and Partnerships Officer at ELF-Africa
