The Loud Silence of Classism in Kenya

By Megan Makena 

We talk a lot about tribe in Kenya. We debate politics. We argue about corruption. But one issue we rarely confront honestly is classism the invisible wall separating Kenyans based on money, status, accent, and background. Classism in Kenya is subtle, but it is everywhere.

It shows up in how we treat people who speak English fluently versus those who don’t. It appears in the way certain neighborhoods are automatically associated with intelligence and opportunity, while others are linked to crime or failure. High end areas are seen as symbols of success, while places like Kayole or Kibera carry unfair stigma. We may not say it openly, but we think it.

In professional spaces, your university matters. Your accent matters. The way you dress matters. Someone from a private school background is often perceived as more exposed than someone from a rural public school even when their abilities are equal.

Even social media reflects this divide. Wealth is glamorized and struggle is mocked. The pressure to look successful has become so intense that some young people go into debt just to maintain an image and the most dangerous part is that classism has become normalized.

The irony is that Kenya is a country where many families are only one financial crisis away from slipping down the economic ladder. Job losses, medical emergencies, and business failures can change someone’s status overnight. Yet we behave as if wealth is permanent and poverty is a personal failure and the truth is that classism divides us just as deeply as tribalism.

When we attach human value to bank balances, we weaken social cohesion. We create a society where opportunity depends less on talent and more on background. And for young people trying to navigate identity and ambition, this silent ranking system can be mentally exhausting in a country where resilience a unity is its pride unit cannot exist where dignity is selective.

If we are serious about progress, we must challenge not only corruption and tribal politics, but also the everyday attitudes that make some Kenyans feel smaller than others. Yet until we confront it honestly, it will continue shaping our society in ways we pretend not to see.