Smart investment, imagination and willpower will revive Nyeri

 

Nyeri, cradled against the slopes of Mount Kenya and the Aberdare Range, is a sight to behold—a land of misty mountains, rolling hills, and rivers that sparkle under the sun. The air here is as fresh as the coffee beans that Nyeri once proudly exported worldwide. It’s little wonder that Lord Baden-Powell, founder of the global scouting movement, chose to spend his final days here, claiming that Nyeri was as close to heaven as one could get on earth.

But beneath this breathtaking scenery lies a different story—one of decline and unrealised potential. The green hills are quiet, the once-bustling coffee farms are sparse, and the vibrancy of community life is waning. Like a play without an audience, Nyeri seems frozen in time, left behind by its own youth who have sought better fortunes in Kenya’s urban centres. There’s a bit of irony here: while Nyeri’s natural beauty remains, the soul of the village feels like it’s slipping away.

The decline is deeply tied to economics. Coffee was once Nyeri’s gold, bringing wealth to farmers and filling the air with the aroma of roasting beans. But as coffee prices fell, many families could no longer rely on farming to make a living. The sight of coffee fields left to the wild grass is now all too common, with those fertile lands merely whispering tales of a thriving past. The younger generation has moved on to Nairobi and beyond, where, even if the jobs aren’t exactly glamorous, they offer more stability than Nyeri’s dwindling agricultural prospects.

This migration has left a mark everywhere, especially in schools that now sit underutilised, their classrooms echoing with the voices of only a few students. Once bustling institutions of learning now serve as quiet reminders of families that have moved away in search of opportunity. There are those who blame the youth’s departure on a rising drinking culture, but this view misses the mark. With so few opportunities at home, the young people feel like they are choosing between the bottle and the bus to Nairobi.

And yet, the potential for revival is there, waiting like water under the ground. Nyeri has rivers flowing year-round, fed by the highlands, just waiting to irrigate its fertile lands. Imagine this place with a strong, year-round irrigation system: farms bustling with activity, coffee thriving, and young people coming back home not just to visit, but to stay and invest. With a little help, Nyeri’s coffee, avocado, and horticultural sectors could bloom once more.

Unfortunately, many recent government moves have hindered rather than helped. New taxes and fees are being added to an already struggling agricultural economy. Instead of empowering Nyeri’s farmers, it feels like the system is putting up toll booths on their only road to survival. The government could better serve these communities by guaranteeing minimum returns and securing market access. This would give farmers the reassurance that they are not alone in their struggle and might stabilize Nyeri’s agricultural backbone.

Then there’s the issue of land inheritance where land is divided and subdivided until farms are too small to be practical. Each generation gets a smaller slice of what was once a productive plot, leading to fragmented farms barely large enough to support a family, let alone produce a surplus. Unless this practice is revisited, Nyeri’s landscape will continue to fragment, piece by piece.

Moreover, our education still promotes the idea that success means a white-collar job, steering young people away from farming. If we want Nyeri’s young people to consider staying and farming, we need a shift in the education system—one that treats farming as a respected profession with real income potential.

Then there’s the issue of market access. While Kenya often faces food shortages and imports food, Nyeri’s farmers are stuck with middlemen who dictate low prices, making it difficult for farmers to make a living. With direct market access, better prices, and maybe even a few cold storage facilities to store their produce, Nyeri’s farmers could thrive once again.

Until Nyeri finds a sustainable way forward, it will remain like an old photograph—capturing a memory that fades a little more each year.