Why Is Ruto’s Government Obsessed With Wrecking Functional Systems And Replacing Them with Expensive Failures?

Kenya’s government has a peculiar habit—one that would be amusing if it weren’t so devastating. Every few months, it identifies a system that is working just fine, tears it down, and replaces it with something new, shiny, and completely dysfunctional. The latest victim of this destructive cycle? The country’s payment infrastructure.

A Nigerian firm is now seeking the State House’s blessing to build a new payment system for the Central Bank of Kenya (CBK). On paper, this sounds like a noble technological advancement. But there’s a catch—a Sh26 billion catch, to be precise. That’s the price tag attached to this so-called modernization. Meanwhile, Kenyan banks, the key players in this sector, are firmly opposed to the idea. Their argument? Instead of building a new system from scratch, why not simply upgrade PesaLink, which is already in place and functioning?

It’s a reasonable proposal, but this government doesn’t do it reasonably. Logic is rarely invited to the decision-making table, especially when billions are up for grabs. The strategy is simple: break something, pretend it’s beyond repair, and then spend obscene amounts of taxpayer money creating a costly alternative that, more often than not, doesn’t work.

Take the NHIF, for instance. Kenyans had a flawed but functioning national health insurance scheme. Instead of fixing its inefficiencies, the government dismantled it and replaced it with the chaotic SHIF, which has left millions without healthcare coverage. The only thing SHIF has achieved so far is draining more public funds into the bottomless pit of corruption.

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Now, the payment system is next in line. If history is anything to go by, Kenyans should brace for yet another expensive disaster. The introduction of a new CBK system will not only cost billions but will also destabilize the financial sector, making transactions slower, businesses more vulnerable, and banks uncertain about the rules of the game. A functional system is predictable and reliable; a government that constantly changes the rules creates an environment where businesses and investors cannot plan for the future.

Imagine running a company where every few months, you’re forced to overhaul your entire accounting system because someone at State House has decided that “modernization” is needed. That’s what Kenya’s financial sector is facing. A stable, predictable payment infrastructure is the backbone of commerce. When the government keeps changing it, businesses suffer. Who wants to invest in a country where financial regulations and systems are constantly shifting like dunes in the wind?

And let’s talk about the money—because, ultimately, that’s what this is all about. Sh26 billion. That’s enough to fund public hospitals, repair roads, or even subsidize electricity for struggling businesses. But no, it must go into yet another grand experiment that serves no one but well-connected middlemen who thrive in chaos. If every few years the government scraps an old system for a new one, who benefits? Not the public.

If the past is any indicator, this new CBK system will be riddled with problems. It will be rolled out with much fanfare, glitches will emerge, businesses will struggle, and before long, another “modernization” proposal will come along, promising to fix the very problems this one created. And the cycle will continue—while Kenyans foot the bill.

Meanwhile, businesses are left grappling with uncertainty. Today, they must comply with one system. Tomorrow, it’s another. Policies shift at the whims of those in power, and those who fail to adapt quickly enough are crushed. The only constant in Kenya’s financial sector is change—change that costs billions and delivers nothing.

And we must ask ourselves: why is this government so eager to fix what isn’t broken? If the goal were truly improvement, wouldn’t we be seeing actual progress? Wouldn’t we have a healthcare system that works? A functional education system? An efficient public transport network? Instead, we see a pattern of destruction, waste, and failed experiments that leave the country worse off than before.

Kenya doesn’t have a problem with outdated systems. It has a problem with leadership that sees every existing structure as an opportunity—not to serve the public, but to loot. The motivation behind these unnecessary overhauls is not innovation but the creation of artificial crises that justify massive expenditures.

A government that constantly destabilizes key sectors is not governing—it’s gambling with the country’s future. Businesses thrive in environments of certainty. Investors put their money where there is stability. Yet, with every reckless policy change, Kenya moves further away from being a predictable, business-friendly economy. We’re not modernizing; we’re becoming a case study in self-sabotage.

And let’s be clear: no one is asking for stagnation. Systems should evolve. But evolution requires thoughtful improvements, not reckless demolitions. No sane person would burn down their house just because they want new windows, but that is precisely how this government operates.

The saddest part is that Kenyans have seen this play out before. We watched NHIF collapse into SHIF. We saw KPLC hike electricity prices after “reforms.” We witnessed tax changes that made life harder for small businesses. And now, we are about to see a payments infrastructure overhaul that will make transactions costlier, slower, and riskier—all at the taxpayer’s expense.

If this new CBK system is implemented, expect businesses to struggle with integration. Expect banks to raise transaction costs to cover compliance expenses. Expect the economy to slow down as companies spend time and resources adapting to another ill-advised government directive. But most of all, expect another round of looting, because that’s the only real reason these changes happen in the first place.

Kenya’s problem is not a lack of technology, efficiency, or innovation. It is a government that believes progress is measured by how much public money is funneled into unnecessary projects. Every failed system is an opportunity to create another, and every new system is an opportunity to steal more.

It is time Kenyans started asking harder questions. Who benefits when a perfectly good system is scrapped? Who is funding the push for these unnecessary changes? And why does it always seem like the government’s “solutions” make things worse?

The answers are not hard to find. Follow the money. If something works, they will break it, and if it’s broken, they will promise to fix it at twice the cost. That is the game. And until we stop them, we will keep paying for the destruction of our own country—one “modernization” at a time.

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