Inside Kenya's contraceptive crisis as thirst for sex peaks

The condom dispenser is still there, fixed to the wall of a university washroom in Nairobi. Its clear plastic casing looks like it should contain something, but it has been empty for months.

A joke scrawled across it in black marker adds an almost cruel touch to what should be a straightforward public-health service.

For 23-year-old Yvette, the emptiness has become familiar.

She first noticed it in early June. She had grown used to finding free, government-branded condoms in the dispenser and picking them up without worrying about whether she could afford them. Now, there is nothing.

It may seem like a small inconvenience, but for Yvette, it has changed a basic calculation she makes as a sexually active young woman. “I have to be responsible and take care of myself because unprotected sex can result in unplanned pregnancy or contracting STIs,” she says.

Too expensive

Being responsible, however, has become more expensive. “Purchasing condoms from chemists and supermarkets is difficult because they are quite expensive,” she adds.

Kevin, another university student in Nairobi, understands that calculation all too well. For him, the price of a packet of condoms can compete with the cost of a meal. “You are left with a choice,” he says, speaking on condition of anonymity.

“Do you buy a packet of condoms or do you buy a meal? Most of the time, people just take the risk and hope for the best,” he adds.

It is a decision that should not exist in the first place. Yet across Kenya, young people and women are finding that some of the easiest and cheapest way to protect themselves is becoming harder.

At Huruma Clinic, nurse Hesborn Omare sees the consequences when people cannot access free condoms. “Young people do come to purchase, but some walk out empty-handed because they can’t afford them, or they come with too little money,” he says.

For those unable to get free condoms, private chemists are often the next option. But the price is enough to send them away.

And the problem extends beyond condoms. Public health facilities across the country are reporting shortages of family planning commodities, including contraceptive pills, injectable contraceptives and implants. Shortages have been reported in Kirinyaga, Embu, Meru, Tharaka Nithi, Nakuru, Bungoma, Baringo and Narok.

Among the affected commodities are DMPA-IM, a three-monthly contraceptive injection administered by a health worker, and DMPA-SC, which is injected under the skin. Some implants and oral contraceptive pills have also been affected.

For women who rely on public facilities, the consequences are immediate: they may have to wait for their preferred method, switch to another or leave without contraception altogether. “Absolute stock means we have not had any stocks in the last one year, and the Kenya Medical Supplies Authority (KEMSA) has not delivered even when requested because they are not available,” explains a source familiar with the situation.

In some instances, non-governmental organisations are being forced to buy unavailable commodities to keep providing services. “But clearly there are no commodities and uptake in the counties has gone down. Post-abortion care services have also increased in the country. The situation is worse,” the source says.

“Shortage of family planning is causing fears of unintended pregnancies, which for some will lead to abortions and, of course, a rise in healthcare costs,” another source says.

For women relying on public facilities, there may be nowhere else to turn. Private providers may have the commodities, but not everyone can afford them. That is the uncomfortable gap between knowing what to do and being able to do it.

Kenya has spent years encouraging women and young people to plan their families and protect themselves against HIV and other sexually transmitted infections. But such messages only work when the means to act on them are available.

Rising demand

With an estimated 6.5 million women using family planning, the shortages come as demand for contraception rises. Yet Kenya is struggling to finance the commodities needed to meet that demand.

The country has historically relied heavily on donors to fund family planning commodities. As donor support declines, responsibility is increasingly shifting to the Government.

The Government has allocated Sh500 million against a verified annual requirement of Sh2.8 billion, leaving a Sh2.3 billion gap.

For a programme serving millions of women, this is more than a budgetary shortfall. It can determine whether a woman receives her preferred method or leaves a health facility without contraception.

Under the global Family Planning 2030 framework, Kenya committed to increasing domestic financing for family planning commodities and reducing reliance on external support.

A national co-financing compact agreed between the Government and the e United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) in May 2024 was intended to support that transition while protecting routine supplies. But with donor support declining and domestic funding falling short, the transition is proving difficult.

The financing challenge also has implications for HIV prevention, where condoms remain one of the simplest ways to protect against HIV and other sexually transmitted infections.

Jerop Limo, executive director of the Ambassador for Youth and Adolescent Reproductive Health Programme (AYARHEP), says the shortage has persisted for years.

“When it’s not available, then it means that many young people struggle to get access to something they would use to protect themselves,” she says.

There is no alarm when a condom dispenser runs empty. There is simply a young person taking a chance, a woman postponing contraception or someone discovering at a chemist that protection costs more than they can afford.

Progress reversed

The consequences may only emerge much later.

Limo says the risks include unintended pregnancies, STIs and HIV. However, she cautions against attributing every new infection or pregnancy to the shortage, noting that information gaps and difficulty accessing prevention products also play a role.

Still, she worries about the implications for a country that has spent decades fighting HIV. “We are in 2026 where there’s a lot of prevention products, treatment and science has improved and we’ve given so many people information,” she says, ADDING; “But then if they cannot access condoms, then we might be dealing with even more HIV numbers in the coming years.”

For Yvette, that possibility is difficult to dismiss. She knows other contraceptives exist but also understands that they do not offer the same protection. “The other contraceptives I know of are morning-after pills, but those are only used to prevent pregnancies,” she says.

At the clinic, Omare says emergency contraception is increasingly being used and misused as a fallback plan.

For people at the other end of the supply chain, debates over donor transitions, Government financing and procurement plans can feel distant.

They are thinking about whether the dispenser will be stocked when they need it, whether the clinic will have their contraceptive injection or whether they can afford a packet at the chemist.

They are also thinking about whether a risk taken today could become a problem months later.