Too much taxation and such little trust: It's time to fix Kenya's broken revenue system

We are lucky that today in Kenya, breathing has not yet been taxed directly,  but if there were a way, the government would have found it. Still, indirectly, our breathing is already taxed. Every time we step into a shop, pay for electricity, board a matatu, or buy bread, the taxman is right there, waiting. We are a people taxed from dawn to dusk, from birth certificates to burial permits.

Yet, in return, what do we get? Crumbling schools, perennial hospital strikes, stalled projects, and an ever-growing national debt. It’s a painful irony, citizens who faithfully pay taxes are rewarded not with better services, but with more levies, more deductions, and more promises.

Kenya’s tax system has become less about development and more about desperation. The government seems determined to squeeze the very people it should be serving, forgetting that you cannot tax poverty into prosperity. When taxes rise but services fall, people begin to question not just the system, but the purpose of the state itself.

The heart of our problem is not taxation,  it’s trust. Kenyans do not object to paying taxes; they object to watching their hard-earned money vanish into corruption and luxury. When an ordinary citizen in Busia, Bungoma, or Baringo pays VAT on sugar or cooking oil, they expect roads, hospitals, and schools. Instead, they see government convoys, inflated tenders, and political rallies disguised as development tours.

The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) has set ambitious targets, yet it forgets that a tax system built on fear and coercion will never be sustainable. True revenue growth depends on faith in the system. But how can faith exist when the same people who preach fiscal discipline allocate billions for allowances, retreats, and overseas benchmarking trips?

The government keeps telling us that we all must “tighten our belts.” The irony is that those asking us to tighten ours are busy buying new ones, imported and expensive. Citizens, meanwhile, are forced to choose between food and fuel, between paying rent and paying tax on essentials.

When people feel overtaxed and underserved, something breaks, not just in their pockets, but in their hearts. The social contract that binds the state and its citizens begins to tear. And when trust is lost, even the best-written tax laws cannot fix it.

We cannot build a nation on revenue collected through frustration and fear. We must build it on fairness, accountability, and transparency. Before creating new taxes, the government must first close the leakages in the old ones. Before demanding more from citizens, it must show where what was taken went.

Taxation should be a partnership, not a punishment. It should be the price we proudly pay for civilization, not the ransom we give to survive. Until Kenya restores trust in how public money is used, every new tax will only deepen our collective anger.

So yes, breathing may not be taxed yet, but it surely feels like it.

By Sebastian Karani Asava