Privacy on the line: How two Bills threaten Kenya's digital freedoms

National Assembly's Finance Committee Chair Molo MP Kimani Kuria displays a QR Code to be uploaded on the Parliament's portal. May 22, 2025. [Elvis Ogina, Standard]

In Kenya, privacy is becoming a battleground. Two proposed laws—the Finance Bill 2025 and the Kenya Information and Communications (Amendment) Bill — threaten to fundamentally reshape our rights in the digital space.

If passed, they will strip away protections we take for granted, placing our data, financial records, and online identities at the mercy of state agencies. 

Let’s start with the Finance Bill 2025. A clause in the Bill proposes to grant the Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) the power to access your personal financial data—bank transactions, M-Pesa records, and even mobile data—without your consent or a court order. This move overrides the Data Protection Act and violates Article 31 of the Constitution, which guarantees the right to privacy. 

The justification? Improved tax compliance. The real impact? A sweeping invasion of privacy that could turn KRA into a surveillance agency. Today it’s your income data. Tomorrow, will NTSA access your Uber history? Will police demand your call logs? If KRA is allowed to bypass consent and due process, what stops other state agencies from doing the same? Once this door is opened, who shuts it? 

Then there’s the Social Media ID Bill, which proposes that all users verify their identity using a national ID to access platforms like TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter). Framed as a tool to combat cyberbullying, the Bill goes further. It introduces state control over who gets to speak online, and how.  Digital content creators—bloggers, influencers, podcasters—would also be required to register with the government if their content is deemed for “mass consumption.” This could apply to anything from a political TikTok to a popular YouTube comedy skit. What starts as a regulatory measure easily becomes a tool for censorship. This bill risks criminalising free expression, excluding marginalised voices, and normalising surveillance. 

Together, these laws represent a shift from inclusion to exclusion-by-design. Millions of Kenyans—especially youth, women, and informal workers—rely on digital platforms for information, income, and expression. Linking access to a national ID will lock many out of public discourse. For whistleblowers and activists, anonymity is a shield. This bill rips that away. 

In the name of security and order, the government is asking Kenyans to surrender their digital freedoms. But safety and surveillance are not synonymous. Neither are compliance and control. Let’s be honest: we don’t have a privacy problem. We have a trust problem. People don’t resist oversight because they want to evade the law—they resist because they fear abuse, bias, and the misuse of power. Both bills clash directly with the Constitution. Article 31 protects your right to privacy. Article 33 guarantees freedom of expression. Article 19 emphasizes that rights and freedoms belong to individuals, not to the state to grant or deny.  These bills seek to roll back those protections. They aim to make surveillance the norm and expression the exception. That is a dangerous road, especially in a young democracy with a history of political interference and institutional overreach. No one denies the need for tax reform or digital safety. But we need smart, rights-respecting solutions. KRA can improve tax collection through technology, audits, and better analytics, not warrantless data grabs. Cyberbullying can be tackled through platform accountability, education, and legal channels, not ID-linked access that punishes everyone for the actions of a few. We need to strengthen the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner, empower citizens with knowledge, and regulate with nuance. 

These bills are more than policy proposals—they are power plays. If we let them pass unchallenged, we risk entrenching a culture where privacy is disposable, expression is conditional, and state overreach is normalised. Now is the time to act. Write to your MP. Demand full public participation. Speak up online—while you still can. Because if we wait, we may find that the platforms we use to protest are no longer free, and the rights we cherish are no longer ours to defend. Let’s not trade freedom for fear. Let’s not sacrifice privacy for promises. Kenya deserves better—online and off.