A New Year Letter to PS Ephantus Kimotho:

 

As the new year begins in 2026, I found myself thinking about you. Not just as a Principal Secretary dealing with government systems and paperwork, but as a man deeply focused on water, how it moves, how it is stored, and how it gives life and hope.

Most people look at a map of Kenya and see borders and regions. I imagine that when you look at the same map, you see water paths, where it flows freely, where it is blocked, and where the land is still dry and waiting. At the start of this new year, I wanted to write to you directly, to acknowledge the quiet, demanding, and important work you have been carrying over the past few years.

The Weight of the Quiet Revolution

There is a special kind of pressure that comes with being responsible for a country’s food supply. It is not the loud pressure of politics. It is the quiet, constant knowledge that when a pump fails in Mwea or a canal fills with silt in Turkana, a family somewhere eats a little less.

You have carried that responsibility with calm and focus. I remember how you spoke during the 2024 Budget Policy Statement. You were not just talking about money. You spoke about “resource gaps” as real problems that needed practical solutions. You talked about expanding irrigated land from 694,000 acres to over 860,000, and later to the ambitious goal of 1.2 million acres. To many people, those are just numbers. To you, they mean crops growing on dry land and harvests that no longer depend on unpredictable rains.

You have helped us see that irrigation is not just about pipes and pumps. It is a promise to farmers. It changes their lives from hoping for rain to having a stable and reliable future.

The Architecture of the Unseen Legacy

One of the things I’ve admired most about your tenure leading up to 2026 is how you’ve handled the "unseen" parts of the job. Anyone can cut a ribbon on a new dam, but it takes a different kind of leader to navigate the complexities of Public-Private Partnerships (PPPs) with the precision of a master architect.

I think back to your address to the accountants in Mombasa in late 2025. You didn't just talk about money; you talked about integrity and prudence. You urged them to see accountancy not as a series of transactions, but as a tool for national transformation. In doing so, you revealed your own philosophy: that every shilling saved in a procurement process is another meter of piping laid in a thirsty field.

Look at what has happened under your watch. The revival of Galana Kulalu, once a project whispered about in tones of skepticism, is now a living, breathing proof of concept. Seeing those first maize harvests under the PPP model with Selu Limited wasn't just a win for the Ministry; it was a win for the Kenyan psyche. You proved that we can do big things when we marry government vision with private sector efficiency.

The Green Ribbons We’ve Tied

As you look back on 2025, I hope you take a moment to see the "green ribbons" you’ve helped tie across this country. From the completion of the Siyoi-Muruny’ dam in West Pokot to the micro-irrigation projects you launched in schools like PCEA Girls in Kajiado, the impact is becoming visible from space.

There is something deeply poetic about the Micro Irrigation Program for Schools. You aren't just watering crops there; you are watering the minds of the next generation. You are teaching a young girl in a semi-arid region that her future doesn't have to be defined by drought. You are showing her that through technology and stewardship, she can command the earth to yield. That is perhaps the most "human" part of your legacy, the part that won't show up in a 5-year strategic plan but will be felt in the homes of those students twenty years from now.

The Courage to Pivot and Persist

2026 will undoubtedly bring its own set of trials. The "resource gaps" you’ve often mentioned never truly go away; they just change shape. But if the last two years have shown us anything, it’s that you have the courage to pivot. Whether it’s pushing for the National Irrigation Sector Investment Plan (NISIP) or signing MoUs that bring global expertise like IWMI to our doorstep, you’ve shown that you aren't afraid to look outside the box for solutions.

You’ve often said that "with water, arid lands can be transformed." It’s a simple sentence, but it’s a radical one. It’s a declaration of war against poverty. And as you lead the charge into this new year, I want you to know that the quiet persistence you bring to the office every morning, the CPA’s eye for detail and the statesman’s eye for the horizon, is noticed.

You make the role look manageable, almost effortless, but those of us watching know the grit it takes to move the needle in a sector as complex as this. You’ve managed to make the "Department for Irrigation" feel like the "Department for the Future."

A Personal Wish for the Road Ahead

So, Ephantus, as you sit with your family or perhaps steal a moment of quiet before the madness of the new year begins, I hope you feel the importance of your station without the burden of it.

The work you are doing in places like Kamata, Kanyuambora, and the Lower Nzoia is more than just "infrastructure." You are building the foundation of a nation that can finally feed itself. You are giving us back our dignity.

In 2026, I wish for you the same resilience you ask of our farmers. May your reservoirs always be full, not just of water, but of the energy and vision required to see this through. May the "resource gaps" be bridged by the partnerships you’ve so carefully cultivated, and may the 1.2 million acres you dream of become the reality we all walk upon.

You have set the wheels in motion. Now, it is simply a matter of keeping the water flowing.

With profound respect and the warmest wishes for a transformative year,

A fellow believer in the transformation of Kenya through Irrigation. 

Victor Patience Oyuko.