A man walks away after buying petrol in a jerrican at Keltz Petrol Station in Utawala yesterday. [PHOTO: BEVERLYNE MUSILI]

KENYA: Just how easy is it to walk into a petrol station with a jerrican and buy petrol in it? That is the question the Government and stakeholders in the education sector are grappling with even as they try to piece up the school fires puzzle together.

Because of petrol’s flammability, the Energy Regulatory Commission (ERC) has set rules that no petrol should be sold in jerricans even if it is an emergency. Clearly, with the recent wave of school fires, it means some petrol attendants have been blatantly flouting this rule. 

The Standard on Saturday sought to find out how easy it is to buy petrol in a jerrican.

Well, buying petrol in a jerrican or any other unauthorised container is a walk in the park as long as you have money. And that explains why students and others can access the highly flammable liquid with ease.

As part of the experiment, the team visited six filling stations in Nairobi posing as customers armed with jerricans. Of the six stations we visited only two refused to sell petrol in a jerrican.

The petrol stations we visited are one Shell station in Embakasi, Astrol Filling Station in Utawala, Kenol Kobil Embakasi, Oil Libya in Utawala, National Oil on Outering Road and LD Filling Station in Utawala.

Our first stop was Kenol Kobil Embakasi.

Armed with a plastic water bottle (1.5 litres), this writer and a photographer (posing as customers) approached an attendant (name withheld) to buy a litre of unleaded petrol.

“We do not sell in plastic ones. It’s a policy. You need to get a tin (made of metal) then come back,” she says.

She goes on: “In fact, there is a man at our kerosene pump. He sell those tins.”

We are able to spot the man who sells to us the tin at a non-negotiable Sh250 and bingo! We buy the petrol. No further questions.

Our next stop was National Oil (opposite Taj Mall). In this filling station, the attendant appears nervous when he spotted us with jerricans on a motorbike.

“I wish I could help you but my supervisor is around. I would never refuse to help a customer who is in need,” the attendant says in low tones.

Then he says apologetically: “I understand your need. But this is a bad time.”

Our mission was futile here, but it was clear that with a little convincing and if the supervisor was away, things may have just worked in our favour. Next stop is, another Shell station in the same area. We approach a female attendant make our request but she flatly refuses. We act desperate.

“We do not sell petrol in jerricans of any type,” she stands her ground. Clearly, we had no luck with this no nonsense attendant. At Astrol Petrol Station we have no luck either.

The attendant says an order was issued by management on Thursday last week that no petrol will be sold in jerricans. The motorbike man (name withheld) gives an interesting insight. He says, before they could buy petrol in jerricans from most stations, but since the outbreak of school fires things have changed suddenly.

“You know these school fires have cost us business too. We like to have some back up (at least a litre of petrol) in case you get stuck somewhere interior,” he says.

We continued with our mission. At Oil Libya, Utawala the attendant agrees to sell us the liquid but with a warning.

“Plastic bottles are highly flammable,” says the attendant.

At LD Filling Station in Utwala, the attendant even jokes as he serves us: “Kuna kashule umekapangia? (Is there a school you plan to burn?”

Clearly, if that is the scenario on the ground, ERC has its work cut out.