Dead or evolving? Inside Kenya's unfinished Gen Z revolution

Two years after Gen Z brought Kenya to a standstill and forced President William Ruto to withdraw the Finance Bill and dismiss his Cabinet, a question continues to dominate political debate: where did the country's most influential youth-led movement go?

The young Kenyans who flooded the streets in June 2024, defying tear gas, bullets and batons in a leaderful campaign against corruption, economic hardship and poor governance, were largely absent during this year's anniversary commemorations.

Instead of mass demonstrations, many chose to mark the occasion online by changing profile pictures, sharing tributes and participating in candle-lighting campaigns to honour those killed during the protests.

Their subdued public presence has fuelled debate over whether the movement has lost momentum or simply adopted new methods of resistance.

To some observers, the silence reflects a movement weakened by State repression, internal divisions and political co-option. Others argue that Gen Z deliberately abandoned highly visible demonstrations after paying a heavy price through alleged abductions, killings and intimidation.

The government's response to the 2024 protests, coupled with the formation of a broad-based government that absorbed sections of the opposition, fundamentally altered Kenya's political landscape. Many young activists feel betrayed by established politicians who capitalised on their struggle before joining government without securing the reforms that inspired the demonstrations.

According to Wesley Masongo, a university student leader who participated in the protests, the movement effectively lost its momentum after failing to convert public anger into lasting political gains.

While some analysts describe the current lull as a strategic retreat, Masongo believes Gen Z squandered its strongest bargaining position when the government signalled its willingness to negotiate.

"When the President withdrew the Finance Bill, dissolved the Cabinet and promised to engage young people, that was when we held the trump card," he says.

According to Masongo, that moment should have been used to negotiate institutional reforms, constitutional changes or meaningful youth representation within government instead of rejecting dialogue altogether.

"The #NoDialogue campaign weakened the movement," he argues. "There is a time to fight and a time to negotiate. Some victories are won in the streets, while others are secured across the negotiating table."

Masongo believes the refusal to engage created a political vacuum later occupied by established politicians, culminating in the rapprochement between President Ruto and Raila Odinga.

"When others stepped in to negotiate, they did so because the movement had failed to recognise its opportunity. That, in my view, marked the beginning of the end of the protests."

Despite his criticism, Masongo insists the grievances that inspired the demonstrations remain unresolved. Corruption, unemployment, the high cost of living and exclusion from decision-making continue to frustrate many young Kenyans.

His concern, he says, is not that young people have stopped caring but that the movement failed to establish structures capable of transforming spontaneous street mobilisation into lasting political influence.

Not everyone shares that assessment.

Peter Muteti, among the prominent 2024 Gen Z protesters who says he was later abducted, insists the movement has not disappeared but evolved in response to a more hostile political environment.

"The movement is not dead. It is stronger than before. Gen Z is not silent; we are everywhere," he says.

Unlike the highly visible demonstrations of 2024, Muteti says the current phase is defined by planning rather than constant mobilisation.

"In 2024, we tested the limits. We reached Parliament and discovered how far we could go. Now we understand the environment and we are strategising."

He argues that reducing the movement's public profile is a deliberate strategy designed to deny authorities advance notice of protest plans.

"Politicians want everything done publicly so they can prepare. We do not have to reveal every strategy. Sometimes it is better to surprise them."

Benard Kavuli, another activist who says he was abducted after participating in the demonstrations, agrees. He maintains the movement was never centred on personalities or political ambitions but on widespread frustration over corruption, the rising cost of living and poor governance.

"We were demanding good governance and an end to corruption and extrajudicial killings. The Finance Bill was simply the catalyst that brought together frustrations young people had carried for years," he says.

Human rights organisations also reject suggestions that Gen Z has faded away.

Davis Malombe, Executive Director of the Kenya Human Rights Commission, argues that many activists have shifted towards safer forms of organising following the heavy-handed response to last year's demonstrations.

"Silence does not mean defeat," he says. "Young people have not stopped organising. They have simply reduced their physical presence because of the dangers they face."

Instead, activists increasingly rely on digital platforms to coordinate, mobilise supporters and exchange ideas while minimising exposure to arrest or intimidation.

"It is much easier to target people gathered physically than those organising online," he says.

Malombe believes Gen Z now prefers carefully targeted interventions instead of sustained street demonstrations.

"They appear to mobilise during strategic moments, such as debates on the Finance Bill or significant anniversaries, before retreating again. Their engagement has become more calculated."

He says the shift reflects the realities confronting young activists after the violence witnessed during the 2024 protests. Many demonstrators were killed or injured, while others reported abductions, intimidation and harassment, significantly raising the personal cost of public activism.

Muteti warns against interpreting quieter streets as acceptance of government policies.

"If they think we are quiet, they can do anything," he says. "The issues that brought young people onto the streets have not disappeared."

Like a growing number of Gen Z activists, Muteti now hopes to pursue change through formal politics. He is seeking the Maara parliamentary seat, arguing that lasting reform requires allies inside public institutions as well as pressure from outside.

"Fighting the system from outside is difficult. We also need people within institutions who can influence decisions."

For those who believe the movement has simply evolved, the question is no longer whether Gen Z remains politically relevant but what form its next mobilisation will take and when.

One defining characteristic of the movement has been its rejection of conventional leadership. Activists have repeatedly insisted they are not leaderless but "leaderful", operating through decentralised networks instead of a single public figure.

Masongo believes that model encouraged widespread participation but also exposed one of the movement's greatest weaknesses.

"We are used to top-down leadership, but young people are embracing shared leadership, where everyone's opinion matters before decisions are made," he says.

While that protected the movement from political capture, it also complicated collective decision-making, particularly on contentious issues such as negotiations with the government.

Malombe argues that decentralisation is both the movement's greatest strength and its greatest limitation.

"Historically, successful movements have had visible leaders. But in today's environment, visibility can make someone a target. Fear of arrest, disappearance or worse has made decentralised organisation the safer option."

He cautions, however, that sustainable political change cannot depend solely on intermittent activism.

"If the strategy is to intervene only at strategic moments, then the impact will naturally be short-lived. Transformation cannot be episodic; it must be continuous."

Masongo agrees that future movements will require stronger internal structures capable of combining street protests with negotiations and institutional engagement.

"There should always be a team prepared to negotiate independently on behalf of the movement," he says. "Activism should not happen only in the streets. We also need people who can enter boardrooms and influence policy."

Even so, he warns against abandoning demonstrations altogether.

"The moment people stop protesting, the right to protest risks being treated as optional rather than fundamental."

Despite the trauma experienced by many activists, Masongo believes young people remain an unpredictable political force capable of remobilising rapidly if circumstances demand it.

"You cannot rule out young people. These movements can emerge spontaneously. Within a week, thousands could be back on the streets."

Political analysts say the movement's greatest challenge is converting its extraordinary ability to mobilise into sustained political influence capable of delivering meaningful reforms.

Malombe believes that objective requires collaboration across generations rather than relying exclusively on young people.

"There is no single generation that will deliver the Kenya we want. Young people bring energy, numbers and technological skills, while older generations contribute institutional memory and experience."

He also cautions against relying entirely on digital activism.

"Online organising is important, but those in power still fear physical numbers. A hundred people in the streets can have far greater political impact than a hundred thousand in an online meeting."

Activist Mwabili Mwagodi questions the very premise of describing Gen Z as a formal movement. In his view, what emerged in 2024 was a spontaneous expression of widespread public frustration rather than a structured organisation.

"There is no Gen Z movement. There are simply Kenyans demanding good governance," he says.

After surviving abduction and detention, Mwagodi shifted much of his activism to digital platforms, where he continues campaigning against corruption, poor governance and impunity. Like many others, he insists fear has changed the methods of resistance rather than the grievances driving it.

Whether Gen Z has lost momentum or merely changed tactics remains fiercely contested. What is beyond dispute is that the frustrations over governance, corruption, unemployment and the rising cost of living that fuelled the 2024 uprising have not disappeared.

Kenya's streets may be quieter today, but the debate over the country's future—and the role young people will play in shaping it—appears far from settled.