Open The Fuel Market, End The Opaque Deals

Kenyans are being asked to believe that there is no practical or commercial case for importing refined fuel from Nigeria’s Dangote refinery. That is too convenient. The real issue is not whether one politician can produce a clever soundbite about shipping routes. The real issue is whether Kenya’s fuel-import system is designed to protect consumers or to protect a closed circle of decision-makers, preferred traders and financiers.

The government’s defence of the current G-to-G arrangement begins from a legitimate point. Kenya moved to government-to-government fuel procurement after the 2022 crisis, when spot-market buying was blamed for shortages, pressure on the dollar and unstable supply. Reuters reported in December 2024 that the deal with Saudi Aramco, ADNOC and ENOC came with 180-day credit terms and reduced the need to find roughly $500 million every month upfront for imports. The government argues that this eased dollar demand, supported the shilling and stabilised supply. That part should be acknowledged honestly.

But a policy can solve one problem and still create another. A fuel-import regime that reduces immediate foreign-exchange pressure is not automatically the best regime for price discovery, competition or public accountability. Citizen Digital reported this month that even defenders of G-to-G concede the framework was never designed primarily as a price-reduction mechanism. That matters. If the system’s main strength is supply management, then Kenyans have every right to ask a harder question: why should the country lock itself mentally and politically into one corridor when African refining capacity is changing and alternative supply routes are emerging?

That is where Dangote enters the conversation. Reuters reported in March 2026 that Dangote’s 650,000-barrel-per-day refinery had reached full capacity and was already exporting gasoline cargoes to African markets including Tanzania and Ghana, while shipments of clean petroleum products from Nigeria rose sharply. Reuters also noted that the Middle East shock was creating opportunities for suppliers with shorter supply chains. In plain language, the African market is changing. Dangote is no longer a hypothetical refinery. It is a functioning continental supplier with real export volumes moving into African destinations.

So when Kenyans are told, almost dismissively, that it is easier to ship oil from the Strait of Hormuz than from Dangote, they should not simply clap and go home. They should ask for proof. What are the comparative freight costs? What are the landed-cost assumptions? What credit terms were offered? What was the sulphur specification? What was the delivery timeline? What were the insurance costs? What port and storage constraints were modelled? What was the final pump-price implication after taxes, freight, storage, losses, margins and financing? Without those numbers, the statement is not serious energy policy. It is political messaging.

And that is exactly why suspicion grows. The current system is not just about molecules of fuel. It is also about who gets to intermediate the process, who finances the cargoes, who controls access, and who benefits from opacity. Citizen Digital reported that the G-to-G framework has come under scrutiny after investigators pointed to an alleged scheme involving senior energy-sector officials and manipulation of shortage narratives. The same report also noted previous concerns that the structure concentrated procurement among a small set of large oil marketers and gave a handful of banks outsized influence over dollar allocation. Even if every allegation is not yet proved in court, the governance smell is already strong enough to justify a full rethink.

This is why the Kenyan public should refuse a false choice between supply stability and competitive sourcing. The correct position is not reckless abandonment of every existing contract. The correct position is transparent competition. Kenya should publicly test Nigerian supply against Gulf supply, cargo by cargo, using published criteria. If Dangote or any Nigerian trader can deliver compliant fuel at a better landed cost, with acceptable credit terms and reliable delivery, Kenya should buy. If they cannot, the public should be shown the numbers. A country paying over KSh 206 per litre for petrol and diesel cannot be asked to survive on slogans. Reuters reported on April 15 that petrol had risen to KSh 206.97 per litre and diesel to KSh 206.84, with EPRA citing a 68.7 percent rise in import costs. When prices are that high, secrecy becomes economically immoral.

There is another reason this debate matters. Kenya does not just consume fuel; it uses fuel as a tax base, a logistics input and a regional power instrument. EPRA’s own pump-price formula shows that the final price is built from landed cost plus storage, transport, losses, margins, levies, taxes and VAT. That means every inefficiency or hidden premium inserted near the top of the chain multiplies across the economy. Higher fuel costs raise the cost of farming, manufacturing, transport, electricity backup, food distribution and household survival. The pain does not stop at the station. It spreads into matatu fares, unga prices, school transport, boda boda incomes and the competitiveness of every Kenyan business.

This is why the question of Nigerian fuel is not a side show. It is a test of whether Kenya is prepared to think like a sovereign buyer or remain trapped in a politically managed procurement culture. A sovereign buyer does not fall in love with one supply structure. A sovereign buyer compares. A sovereign buyer negotiates. A sovereign buyer demands open tender logic even inside strategic procurement. A sovereign buyer also understands that an African refinery supplying African markets can, in the right circumstances, strengthen regional resilience by shortening routes, diversifying risk and weakening the monopoly power of any single corridor.

The government may still defend G-to-G by pointing to one controversial cargo that was allegedly far more expensive than a G-to-G shipment. That defence is incomplete. One bad cargo does not prove that every non-G-to-G option is inferior. It proves only that irregular, non-transparent cargoes can also be abused. The answer to abuse is not to retreat deeper into opacity. The answer is to make the numbers public and let qualified comparison do the work.

Kenyans should therefore demand five things immediately. First, a published comparison of landed-cost scenarios between Gulf supplies and Nigerian supplies, including freight, financing, insurance and delivery timelines. Second, public disclosure of all entities participating in the current G-to-G chain, including financiers, marketers and contractual margins. Third, independent quality and specification disclosures for every cargo. Fourth, a competitive pilot import from Nigeria or the Dangote ecosystem under transparent terms so the market can see the result. Fifth, parliamentary and auditor scrutiny of how fuel pricing decisions are being made and who benefits when the market is kept narrow.

Kenya should buy fuel from wherever it is cheapest, cleanest, most reliable and most transparent for the public interest. If that is the Gulf, show the public the numbers. If that is Nigeria, buy from Nigeria. But what Kenyans should reject completely is the lazy argument that they must trust a closed system simply because powerful people say there is no alternative. There is always an alternative to opacity. It is called transparency, competition and evidence.

The burden of proof should now shift. It is not wananchi who must prove that Nigerian fuel can work. It is the government that must prove why Kenyans should be denied the chance to see a fair, open comparison. Until that happens, many citizens will reasonably conclude that resistance to Nigerian supply is less about logistics and more about protecting the rents, relationships and secrecy that thrive inside a narrow fuel-import regime.

Read Also: Economist Edwin Kinyua Explains Fuel Prices Changes Under G2G Framework