Few words stir as much fatigue and frustration in Kenya as corruption. It is not merely a crime in our society; it is a culture embedded in our speech, our politics and even our understanding of success. In offices, boardrooms and county assemblies across the country, a quiet mantra echoes: “It’s our time to eat.” That phrase born from decades of normalized impunity captures how deeply the corruption mindset has sunk into the Kenyan consciousness. Leadership has become synonymous with opportunity for personal gain rather than public service.

But how did we get here? And, more importantly, how can we escape this generational trap? To understand, we must examine the historical trajectory; how Kenya’s governance culture evolved across generations and why the youngest generation, Gen Z, represents our best chance to reverse it.

When Kenya gained independence in 1963, the atmosphere was electric with optimism. The baby boomer generation, those born between the 1940s and 1960s, entered adulthood at a time of liberation and possibility. They inherited a colonial administrative system built for control and subservience, not accountability. Instead of dismantling it, the new elite repurposed it for political patronage. Power became a reward for loyalty, not competence. State resources became tools of control, distributed through networks of tribe and allegiance. Public office turned into a gateway for private enrichment. The bureaucracy evolved into what political analysts now call “the economy of patronage”.

By the 1980s and 1990s, Generation X had mastered the game. They entered leadership at a time when the rules were already rigged. Scandals like Goldenberg, Anglo-Leasing and countless procurement thefts in parastatals institutionalized corruption as statecraft. The message to young Kenyans was clear: if you want to succeed, join the system don’t question it.

Corruption does not survive in isolation. It thrives because the society around it provides oxygen. Over the years, Kenyans began to celebrate wealth more than integrity. The richer one was, the more respected they became regardless of the source of their riches. Politicians who stole from public coffers were feted as heroes at homecomings. Churches reserved front pews for them, schools invited them as “role models,” and communities voted them back into office. Phrases like “mwizi ni wetu” (he’s our thief) became the anthem of moral decay. Entire communities defended their corrupt leaders, seeing them not as betrayers but as protectors of tribal interests. In the process, society became complicit. The line between legitimate success and stolen wealth blurred beyond recognition. The corrupt didn’t fear exposure they received applause. This cultural endorsement of corruption entrenched a mindset where wealth equated to worth and governance was reduced to a contest for control of public resources.

Then came the millennials those born between 1981 and 1996. They grew up in a Kenya marked by structural adjustment programs, privatization and political liberalization. They were told to work hard, study and dream big. Yet as they matured, they encountered a harsh truth: success was less about effort and more about connections. For many, disillusionment set in. They watched those who toiled honestly struggle, while those who played the “tenderpreneur” game prospered.

Still, not all millennials capitulated. Some used their frustration as fuel for reform. They founded transparency movements, pushed for freedom of information and embraced digital accountability tools. But they faced an entrenched political order unwilling to surrender its feeding trough. Many burned out, trapped between idealism and realism.

Now enters Generation Z, those born after the late 1990s. This is the first generation raised fully in the digital age. Their world is interconnected, data-driven and visually transparent. They have grown up watching corruption scandals unfold in real time through investigative journalism, viral exposés and social media activism. Unlike their parents, Gen Z cannot be gaslit. They have receipts, screenshots and access to information that older generations once guarded.

But Gen Z also bears a unique contradiction: they are both disgusted by corruption and tempted by the culture of quick success that social media glorifies. They see influencers flaunting wealth with no clear source and political elites who steal with impunity yet trend as online celebrities.

Still, beneath the noise lies something powerful, a genuine hunger for change. Gen Z is the most values-conscious, globally exposed and justice-driven generation Kenya has seen. They talk openly about ethics, mental health, sustainability and transparency. Their protests and online movements show they are unafraid to confront power from student councils to national politics.

And crucially, Gen Z is less tribal than any generation before them. Their loyalties are issue-based, not ethnic. They collaborate online, mobilize across borders and call out corruption regardless of who commits it. That makes them uniquely positioned to disrupt Kenya’s toxic governance cycle.

The most dangerous manifestation of this generational decay is now in corporate and institutional governance. Many of the Gen X and millennial leaders now sitting in boardrooms carry forward the same political logic: “If you are in charge, you must benefit.” The idea of serving stakeholders or protecting institutional integrity is secondary to personal enrichment.

If there is one generation capable of breaking this cycle, it is Gen Z.

But to do so, they must redefine governance not as a ladder for personal gain, but as a mechanism of stewardship.

Here’s how Gen Z can drive the transformation:

a) Redefine Success

Gen Z must challenge society’s definition of success. The heroes of the next Kenya cannot be thieves in designer suits; they must be builders, innovators and problem-solvers.

When a generation begins to celebrate impact over income, corruption loses its cultural oxygen.

b) Use Technology as a Weapon for Transparency

Governance thrives on information and corruption hides in opacity.

Gen Z can use digital tools to monitor budgets, expose misuse of funds and push for open data policies. They can build civic tech platforms that track public procurement, expenditure and project delivery at both county and national levels.

c) Transform Protest into Participation

Kenya’s Gen Z has shown remarkable courage in mobilizing for justice from online campaigns to street protests. But real change happens inside institutions, not just outside them. Gen Z must move from protest to participation: run for office, serve on boards, apply for regulatory roles and build ethical businesses. Change will not come from shouting at the system; it will come from governing differently.

d) Embed Ethics in Governance Education

The future board member, CEO or policymaker must be ethically literate.

Gen Z professionals should demand integrity training, governance education and transparent decision-making processes in their workplaces. Professional bodies, universities and regulators must infuse ethics, accountability and sustainability into their curricula and standards.

e) Reject Corruption at the Micro Level

Corruption doesn’t begin with billion-shilling scandals, it begins with small acts: bribing a police officer, falsifying receipts or leaking confidential information for gain.

Gen Z can set a new norm by refusing to participate in small corrupt acts, however normalized they seem. Integrity is not about big gestures, it is a daily discipline.

Each generation in Kenya has carried a defining ethos. For the Baby Boomers and Gen X, it was “It’s our time to eat.” For many Millennials, it became “You can’t fight the system.” But for Gen Z, the mantra must be different. It must be: “It’s our time to build.” To build institutions that serve, not steal. To build a society where wealth is earned, not grabbed. To build a Kenya where governance means service, not self-service.