The Madaraka Mirage: Kenya’s Shiny Train to Nowhere?

I recently took some leave and decided to head down to Voi. Simple plan, right? Well, not if you live in Kenya. Anyone who has ever attempted the Nairobi–Mombasa road knows it’s less of a highway and more of a battlefield. You dodge lorries stacked like Jenga towers, endure fumes thicker than a politician’s manifesto, and pray that an accident doesn’t happen. Because if it does, my friend, welcome to your new roadside Airbnb—also known as “Mombasa Road Parking Lot.”

So, I thought: Why not skip the madness and try the shiny Standard Gauge Railway (SGR)? After all, it was built to make travel faster, safer, and cheaper. Great idea in theory—except the trains are fully booked weeks in advance. Unless you bought your ticket while still in the womb, good luck.

And that brings us to the big question: after borrowing billions to build this railway, are we really getting our money’s worth, or have we been bewitched?

The Price of a Shiny Toy

Let’s start with the bill. Phase one of the SGR—the Mombasa to Nairobi stretch—cost a cool $3.6 billion, 90% of which we borrowed from China Exim Bank. Altogether, Kenya now owes between $6 and $7.4 billion for SGR-related projects. Just last year alone, in mid-2023, we spent $356 million servicing this debt. That was nearly 80% of Kenya’s total debt repayments for the month. Imagine borrowing for a car, and then realizing 80% of your salary is just going to pay interest—you’d park that car in the living room and worship it as a god.

Freight Dreams vs. Truck Realities

The logic of the SGR was simple: move goods on trains, reduce the number of trucks on the highway, save on road repairs, and cut transport costs. Sounds brilliant! Except reality had other plans.

Yes, freight volumes have improved—rising from 6.09 million tonnes in 2022 to 6.53 million tonnes in 2024. In March 2025, the railway even recorded a high of 636,724 tonnes in a single month, a 42% jump compared to the previous year. Promising numbers, right?

But here’s the rub: the SGR was designed to handle 20 to 22 million tonnes a year. Government experts, in a rare moment of honesty, admitted the real maximum is closer to 8.8 million tonnes. Today, we’re barely halfway there. Meanwhile, trucks still thunder along Mombasa Road, ensuring your drive remains a live episode of Survivor: East Africa.

Passengers: Where Did Everyone Go?

When it comes to passengers, things look even grimmer. Ridership is shrinking. In 2024, the SGR lost about 280,000 passengers compared to 2023. In just one quarter, numbers dropped from 701,132 to 650,352—a 7.2% slide. By March 2025, ridership had fallen further to 172,456, the lowest since 2021.

Why? Because ticket prices went up. First-class now costs $30 (about KSh4,500) and economy $10 (KSh1,500). That may not sound like much in dollars, but for the average Kenyan, it’s the difference between riding the SGR and sticking to the good old bus. Ironically, the very people the train was built to serve are the ones priced out of it.

Who Bewitched Us?

The real answer to this riddle lies in politics and vested interests. Many of the very leaders who pushed for the SGR happen to have investments in the trucking and bus industries. If the SGR succeeds, their businesses take a hit. So what do they do? Keep train services limited, fares high, and policies weak. That way, trucks and buses stay busy, while the taxpayer keeps repaying the loans. Genius—for them.

The result? The SGR, instead of being the savior of Kenya’s transport sector, has become a shiny but underused toy. A white elephant with a whistle.

The Silver Lining

But it doesn’t have to stay this way. With the right policies, the SGR could still become the backbone of East African trade. We need:

1. Affordable fares—so that Kenyans see the train as a real option, not a luxury.

2. Cargo incentives—force or nudge more freight onto the train to reduce road congestion.

3. Cross-border links—extend the SGR to Uganda and beyond, so it can tap into regional freight like oil, minerals, and goods.

4. Transparency—no more government-to-government cloak-and-dagger deals. Let the public know what’s being signed in their name.

Back to Mombasa Road

On my return journey from Voi, an accident had turned Mombasa Road into the world’s longest parking lot. There I was, bumper to bumper, surrounded by cargo trucks, all of us staring blankly into the dusk. And I thought: This is exactly what the SGR was meant to solve. Instead, it’s us—taxpayers—stuck paying billions for a railway that still hasn’t set us free.

Who bewitched this land? Perhaps nobody needed to. Sometimes all it takes is a mix of bad policy, personal greed, and poor foresight. But maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late to wake up from the spell.

Because Kenya deserves better than a railway that looks good on paper while our roads double as parking lots.

About the Author

Dr. Julius Kirimi Sindi is a global expert in research funding, policy impact, and donor relations. With extensive experience in analyzing philanthropy, business, and science funding, Dr. Sindi fosters sustainable and inclusive research ecosystems. He has facilitated international business relationships across Africa, Europe, and Asia. His upcoming book, "The Blueprint of Life Well Lived," explores successful strategies for navigating complex business environments while achieving sustainable growth.