Time to protect consumers from 'safer' alternatives to cigarettes

Man holding vape and tobacco cigarette. [Courtesy]

Kenya stands at a defining moment in its public health journey. The battlefield has shifted. Once, the fight was clearly against cigarettes: Visible, smoky, unmistakable. Today, the threat is subtler. Shinier. Sleeker. Disturbingly sweet. The new face of nicotine does not arrive in smoke. It arrives in flavour. It smells like bubblegum and mango, wrapped in bright, fruity packaging, slipping quietly into social media feeds and whispering to teenagers about “cool” choices and “cleaner” highs.

These products are the outcome of calculated strategy. The tobacco and nicotine industries have rebranded with remarkable precision, replacing the acrid stench of traditional smoking with the saccharine illusion of "smokeless" safety. This is not an industry struggling to catch up with regulation. It is one that stays several steps ahead, exploiting gaps in our laws to secure the next generation of customers.

That is why I am sponsoring the Tobacco Control (Amendment) Bill, 2024 in the Senate not merely as a routine legal update, but as a long-overdue moral intervention. As the national debate intensifies, we must separate fact from fiction.

Let us begin with clarity. This Bill is not a ban. It is not prohibition. It is not an attack on legitimate business.

Kenya’s Tobacco Control Act was enacted in 2007 and last amended in 2009. It was not designed for an era of synthetic nicotine, online marketing, and flavour-engineered addiction. In short, our law was built for smoke, but the industry has moved to vapour.

Today, these products sit in a legal grey zone. They are not explicitly defined under our primary tobacco statute. That ambiguity has created enforcement gaps, inconsistent standards, weak age verification, and minimal oversight over what is being inhaled or absorbed, sometime by even children.

Regulatory silence does not protect consumers. It protects opportunism. And in that vacuum, misinformation has flourished.

The Bill closes that loophole. It introduces licensing requirements, standardises nicotine levels, mandates health warnings, restricts advertising, enforces age limits, and extends smoke-free protections to include vaping in public spaces.

That is not prohibition. It is responsible governance.

Yet we are told that Kenya stands at a “crossroads.” That we risk “blocking safer alternatives.” That we are ignoring “science.” That we are failing to follow Sweden or the United Kingdom.

Allow me to interrogate these claims. 

First, the science. Yes, electronic nicotine delivery systems do not involve combustion. That is true. They may expose users to fewer combustion-related toxicants than traditional cigarettes. That is also true.

But “less harmful” does not mean harmless. These devices aerosolise liquids containing nicotine, propylene glycol, vegetable glycerin, flavouring agents, and sometimes contaminants such as heavy metals and volatile organic compounds. Nicotine is highly addictive and affects the developing brain. Among adolescents, exposure is associated with impaired attention, altered synaptic development, and increased susceptibility to future substance dependence.

Short-term studies show airway irritation, bronchial inflammation, elevated heart rate, and raised blood pressure. Long-term data remains limited and that uncertainty is precisely why precaution is necessary. Public health policy cannot wait 30 years while addiction becomes entrenched in a new generation.

Appealing flavours may disguise harsh chemicals, but they do not erase the consequences. Therefore, framing these products as “better alternatives” is like calling a storm a gentle breeze because it comes without thunder.

Second, the international comparisons. Sweden did not lower smoking rates by deregulating nicotine. Sweden regulated tightly with strict age limits, product standards, enforcement systems, and public health oversight. The United Kingdom’s cessation programmes, on the other hand, operate within a structured medical and regulatory framework, not an unregulated retail free-for-all.

We cannot import Sweden’s outcomes while rejecting Sweden’s regulatory discipline. The industry promotes these products as tools for adult smokers while downplaying their appeal to minors. “Consumer choice” is the refrain. But when those choices are laced with addiction marketed in bubblegum flavours to children, it is not freedom. It is exploitation.

Harm reduction only works within a robust regulatory system. Kenya is not fully there yet, and that is why this Bill matters now.

Third, the claim that this Bill will fuel black markets. Black markets thrive in chaos, not clarity. For one, nicotine concentrations in e-liquids vary widely. Some products deliver doses comparable to or exceeding cigarettes. Without standardised ceilings and product review mechanisms, consumers may ingest high levels unknowingly. Clear rules, licensing, transparent labelling, and structured compliance strengthen legitimate businesses and reduce illicit competition.

Let me address the youth question directly. Youth uptake of vaping is rising. Adolescents are uniquely vulnerable because their brains are still developing. Early exposure increases the likelihood of sustained addiction. Flavoured products lower barriers to initiation. When products are packaged as mango-ice, bubblegum, cotton candy, or sherbet, we must ask: Who is the intended target?

This Bill does not criminalise users or eliminate lawful trade. It regulates industry behaviour.

According to the World Health Organisation, approximately 9,000 Kenyans die each year from tobacco-related illnesses. A 2022 study by the Kenya Tobacco Board found that nearly 30 per cent of youth in higher learning institutions are already using nicotine products.

Regulatory uncertainty is not neutral. It only delays protections our youth urgently need. Africa is increasingly becoming the frontier for nicotine expansion. Where legal definitions lag behind product innovation, opportunity expands not for public health, but for market share. When Kenya is described as a “growth market,” we must ask: Growth for whom? We cannot afford to be a regulatory afterthought.

This moment, therefore, calls for sobriety, not slogans. For evidence, not sensational half truths. For precaution, not self preservation.

To my fellow legislators: This Bill is long overdue. Every delay leaves more children exposed. To parents, teachers, and mentors: Vigilance must extend beyond the cigarette pack to the algorithm and the flavoured pouch. And to the tobacco industry: Kenya is not a testing ground. We are a sovereign nation with the right and obligation to protect our people.