How The Kenyan President Is Auctioning Kenya’s Future While His Children Buy The Country

William Ruto sold himself as the hustler-in-chief, the man who understood the struggles of the youth because he claimed to have risen from selling chickens. But in practice, his leadership looks more like a live auction where the future of Kenyan youth is sold to the highest bidder—and surprise, the winning bidders often share his surname.

Under Ruto’s so-called empowerment programs, the Hustler Fund was marketed as the silver bullet for joblessness. Instead, it has become a debt trap—half the borrowers have defaulted, sinking Sh11 billion into a black hole. Meanwhile, only 20% of the one million youth entering the job market annually find formal employment. If this is empowerment, then malaria must be considered a spa treatment.

The bodaboda sector tells the story better than any economist could. Imagine one million riders barely making ends meet, and then, with presidential brilliance, another million are added. It’s simple supply and demand—more bikes, same customers, less income. The daily earnings of a rider drop from KES 800 to KES 400, but hey, the photo ops at handover ceremonies are great for politics.

While the youth grind in overcrowded, low-income hustles, the Ruto family is on an acquisition spree that makes Safaricom’s market dominance look modest. From the Weston Hotel, with its 37 government tenders worth Sh57.9 million, to Amaco Insurance with lucrative contracts, to the Dolphin Hotel in Mombasa, the First Family has secured multiple streams of taxpayer-fed income. The hospitality sector isn’t just booming—it’s booming for them.

Read Also: The Gospel According To Ruto: Turning Water Into Billion-Shilling Churches

Charlene Ruto, the self-declared “First Daughter,” pops up at every economic forum, honey festival, and climate conference, branding herself as a visionary entrepreneur. Meanwhile, her family’s ventures in logistics, luxury hotels, and even the importation of planes quietly expand behind the scenes. This isn’t just a conflict of interest—it’s a conflict of the future.

Ruto’s privatization drive, including the Kenya Pipeline Company IPO and asset securitization, is dressed up as “mobilizing private capital.” But in Kenya, “private” often translates to “politically connected.” Billions in subsidized loans are promised for “high-risk” sectors—risk being defined as any industry not already owned by Ruto or his ally.

The irony is grotesque: the president pushes austerity for the public while ring-fencing wealth for his inner circle. Taxes climb, youth unemployment soars, and the cost of living becomes a daily nightmare. Yet, Ruto’s speeches still drip with hustler gospel, promising milk and honey—though the honey business is now firmly under family management.

This is more than bad governance—it’s a hostile takeover of the economy disguised as leadership. The youth are given just enough to keep them busy and indebted, while strategic sectors—logistics, hospitality, agriculture, aviation—are absorbed into the family empire. It’s feudalism in hustler’s clothing.

The danger is that by the time Kenyans wake up from this political hypnosis, key economic arteries will already be in private—family hands. And unlike the chicken business, you can’t simply start your own Kenya Pipeline Company in your backyard. By then, the country won’t just be broke—it will be leased out to the Rutos for a 99-year term, renewable at will.

If leadership is about leaving the country better than you found it, then Ruto’s legacy will be a nation where the youth inherit debt, despair, and a lifetime subscription to bodaboda hustles, while his children inherit the ports, the hotels, the skies, and the land beneath our feet. In other words, the perfect family business.

Read Also: An Open Letter To President William Ruto From The Kenyan Youth