How revolt against Finance Bill soured Ruto's relationship with the youth

It began with a tax Bill — and ended in bloodshed. When President William Ruto forced the Finance Bill 2024 through Parliament despite growing public opposition, he did more than raise taxes, he ignited Kenya’s most intense youth-led protests in decades.

The backlash has rattled his administration and exposed deep national rifts, seen through a rebelling Church, Gen Z, dissenting politicians, and professionals battered by high taxes and soaring living costs.

What began as outrage over levies on essentials like bread, nappies, and digital services swiftly evolved into a decentralised, tech-fuelled revolt led by Gen Z.

Their chants — “one-term” (a vow to block Ruto’s re-election) and “Ruto must go” echoed across the country.

Purportedly leaderless, this fiercely independent movement has mobilisednationwidedemanding not just economic turnaroud but accountability and governance reforms, but critics say Ruto won’t deliver as the status quo favours him.

“Why do politicians deploy thugs to sabotage peaceful protests?” asked activist Boniface Mwangi. “We march to honour our fallen and demand justice.”

Critics argue the 58-year-old president responded as a career politician, not a reformer. Rather than recalibrate, he doubled down alienating Gen Z with repression and tone-deaf rhetoric.

Initially framed as a tax revolt, this uprising defied Kenya’s political norms: no party affiliation, no singular leader, no ethnic agenda. TikTok Lives, X threads, and Instagram reels became digital barricades.

“This isn’t just about taxes,” stressed university student Amina during a TV interview. “It’s about years of broken promises. We were sold change. We got betrayal.”

Ruto’s Finance Bill 2024 vote warning to MPs laid bare his stance: “I’m watching who votes against a bill that creates jobs and housing.”

On June 25, as Parliament passed the bill, protesters stormed the chambers. Police responded with live fire, killing over 15.

The images of bullet-riddled bodies outside Parliament radicalised the movement and plunged Kenya into mourning.

Ruto’s relationship with the youth now lies in tatters. “We shrouded our heroes in flags. They live in our hearts,” a protester told international media.

For a president who rose to power on a “hustler” narrative pledging to uplift the poor, this marked a turning point.

Instead of addressing discontent, the state cracked down. Police deployed live rounds and tear gas. Activists vanished in unmarked cars.

The Kenya National Commission on Human Rights documented 71 abductions during four protest months, many by masked men in unmarked vehicles.

While the government claims all were released, families insist loved ones remain missing.

“The crackdown extended beyond streets to abductions, arrests, and digital repression,” said Amnesty International Kenya’s Irungu Houghton. “Online dissent met physical violence.”

This repression evoked Kenya’s darkest eras, but Gen Z used smartphones to livestream assaults as the internet became both shield and sword.

Ruto’s silence during the bloodshed fuelled fury.

His tepid apology at May’s National Prayer Breakfast admitting “mistakes were made” moved few.

“He apologised only because we’re now voters,” a protester told local TV. “Where was he as our friends bled out?”

This was no rally but a faceless mass movement. Hashtags, memes, and protest anthems spread it. Cabinet reshuffles and formation of the so-called broad-based government with Raila Odinga failed to quell the dissent.

Church-mediated talks collapsed after clergy accused the government of corruption, crippling taxes, and a failing health system.

“Our past statements brought no change,” the Kenya Conference of Catholic Bishops noted. “Public trust is evaporating.”

Ruto urged clergy and citizens to “stick to the facts.”

“If we are not careful,” he said, “we can become victims of the very things we accuse others of.”

But Gen Z refused government dialogue, citing bad faith and betrayal.

As the protests surged, Ruto was often abroad at climate forums, investor meetings, and diplomatic summits. Many saw it as abandonment.

“We saw him in Paris and New York while our friends were bleeding,” said Vanessa on Tik Tok. “He chose applause abroad over justice at home.”

This disconnect only deepened the resentment. Critics said it confirmed what many feared: that Ruto cared more about global prestige than domestic unrest.

Further fueling the fury were reports that the Indian conglomerate Adani Group was in talks to take over critical infrastructure — Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, highways, even ports — via opaque Public-Private Partnerships. For many youth, this signaled betrayal.