KENYA MOJA

  Located in Karen, away from the noise and urgency of Nairobi’s expanding skyline, lies a 618-hectare stretch of indigenous forest that continues to do what it has always done. It breathes life into the city. It supports biodiversity, regulates climate, and sustains water systems that millions depend on daily, often without knowing it. Oloolua Forest is not just a recreational space. It is one of Nairobi’s last remaining natural forests, quietly serving over four million people. Its value is ecological, economic, and deeply human. Yet despite its importance, a critical vulnerability remains. A significant portion of its perimeter, approximately 25 kilometres , is still exposed. Unprotected boundaries are not just a technical issue. They are an open invitation to encroachment, illegal activities, and gradual degradation. Forests rarely disappear overnight. They erode slowly, piece by piece, until one day the loss becomes undeniable. Turning Movement Into Protection Conservation of...

  There is a way big national programmes are often communicated that makes them feel distant from everyday life. They arrive wrapped in technical language, structured around policy terms, and explained through frameworks that only a few people fully follow. To most citizens, they sound important, but not immediate. Necessary, but not personal. K-RISE could easily be understood that way. A programme tied to irrigation development, supported by the World Bank , anchored in sector investment plans, and structured around components like Farmer-Led Irrigation Development and water security . On the surface, it reads like another well-designed initiative in a long list of development efforts. But that reading misses something deeper. Because the real story behind K-RISE is not about irrigation as a sector. It is about how Kenya is beginning to confront a problem that has quietly shaped its past and will define its future. Food in Kenya has always depended on rain. That dependency has be...

There is a way environmental work often presents itself to the public. It arrives in numbers, in targets, in carefully worded updates about trees planted, hectares covered, or communities reached. It looks structured and complete on the surface, yet something about it rarely holds long enough to change outcomes in a lasting way. The effort is visible, the intention is clear, but the impact often struggles to outlive the activity. That pattern has become so familiar that many people no longer question it. Conservation is expected to come in cycles. A campaign begins, energy builds, results are announced, and then, gradually, the system returns to where it was before. Not because people do not care, but because the work is rarely designed to hold itself together once attention shifts elsewhere. Somewhere within Kenya’s environmental space, a different approach has been taking shape, not loudly, not with urgency for recognition, but with a certain discipline that suggests long-term thinki...

Dear PS CPA Ephantus Kimotho, When you first stepped into the arena of environmental leadership, few outside government circles could have predicted the depth of your commitment to the land, the trees, the people, and the future that hangs beautifully on Kenya’s green horizons. Today, I want to thank you; not for a single event or a moment, but for a pattern of dedication that has brought hope back to Oloolua Forest, our city’s lungs, our natural classroom, and a refuge of both life and memory. There is something deeply human about a forest; a place where soil and sun and water knit themselves into canopy and shade and air we find ourselves breathing a little more easily. For so many of us in Nairobi, Oloolua isn’t just trees and trails; it is heritage. It is history. It is connection to a time before concrete swallowed horizon lines and to a future where nature and city can exist not as rivals but as companions. You know this place well: its ancient paths that echo the footsteps of fr...

There is a quiet shift happening in Kenya’s approach to irrigation , conservation , and climate resilience , and it is becoming visible in places many would not immediately associate with agricultural policy. Oloolua Forest , part of the Ngong Forest ecosystem , has now emerged as one of those places. What may appear at first glance as a conservation effort is, in reality, something deeper. It is a test case for how Kenya could finance and sustain its irrigation and water security agenda going forward. At the center of this shift is the Oloolua CARE Initiative , anchored on six pillars that bring together conservation, livelihoods, clean water, circular economy , clean energy , and climate-smart agriculture . This framework signals a move away from fragmented interventions toward a more integrated and financially conscious model of development. It is not just about planting trees or fencing forests. It is about redefining how natural resources are protected, funded, and linked to eco...

Ephantus Kimotho , Principal Secretary for Irrigation, has formally adopted Ololua Forest at a time when Kenya is preparing to mark the International Day of Forests . PS Kimotho's Bold Adoption of Ololua Forest CPA Ephantus Kimotho, Principal Secretary for Irrigation, has taken a decisive and forward-looking step by adopting Ololua Forest in Kajiado County . Ololua, one of the three distinct blocks that make up Ngong Forest , now has in PS Kimotho not just a patron, but an active champion for its restoration. His move signals a deliberate effort to bridge irrigation development with forest conservation in a way that directly benefits both ecosystems and communities. It reflects a clear understanding that water security and forest health are inseparable. Healthy forests regulate water cycles, recharge catchments, and sustain irrigation systems. By stepping into this role, PS Kimotho is not merely endorsing conservation, he is embedding it into the country’s development agenda. His ...