Kenya has long been committed to alternative energy sources, and so, at a time when the fuel crisis is putting a strain on the finances of citizens in many countries – not only when it comes to filling up with petrol but also regarding upcoming electricity bills – in Kenya, however, these costs could actually fall.
All thanks to the hydroelectric dams in the Rift Valley.

Above all because it’s raining. And when it rains in Kenya, it’s never just water: it’s a sort of reminder, a letter written by the heavens saying ‘don’t worry, it’s all right this time’. And not just in the maize fields. So whilst the world chases the price of oil like a runaway matatu, here the dams are filling up, the meters are slowing down and, for once, the average citizen can even afford to look at their bill without feeling like an unwitting donor to the state.

It so happens that Kenya Electricity Generating Company PLC, which isn’t exactly renowned for its poetic flights of fancy but occasionally gets its timing right, has announced that its reservoirs are fuller than ever. The great dams of the Seven Forks cascade – Masinga, Kamburu, Gitaru, Kindaruma – are all above minimum operating levels, indeed almost at maximum capacity. Translation: the water is flowing, the turbines are turning and electricity costs less.

On 28 April, they produced more energy than expected, exceeding the already optimistic figures. It’s no miracle, just simple African maths: when the rains come in good measure, hydroelectric power becomes the model child of the energy family – the one that doesn’t borrow money and doesn’t complain about the price of diesel. And in a country where thermal power still weighs like a moral debt, every kilowatt generated by water is a small act of liberation.

But the real irony, as is often the case in these parts, is that all this comes at a time when Kenya has been preaching the gospel of geothermal power in the Rift Valley for years. The earth’s heat, the geysers, the steam rising like a promise of energy independence. And yet, in the end, it is always the sky that decides when to grant you a break.

Not that geothermal energy lets us down; on the contrary, it remains the backbone, silent and constant. But when water is plentiful, the system allows itself the luxury of breathing. Less imported fuel, fewer hysterical fluctuations linked to global markets, less anxiety for families and businesses. A respite, brief but tangible.

Naturally, in Kenya, every piece of good news always carries a slight tinge of suspicion. Full dams bring a smile to the faces of those paying for electricity, but they also set alarm bells ringing for those living downstream. And indeed, KenGen is quick to reassure: everything is under control, management is rigorous, no sudden floods. The water, they assure us, is released judiciously. Which in Africa is a flexible concept, but every now and then it works.

And so, caught between a bountiful rainy season and an electricity grid that, surprisingly, is holding up, Kenya finds itself in that rare position where it can afford not to chase after global chaos, but to watch it from afar. It doesn’t happen often, and perhaps it won’t last.

Because here, as usual, it is never a definitive victory. It is a window of opportunity. One of those that open when everything seems to fall into place: the earth warming, the sky bringing rain and, for once, even the accounts balancing.
Then the bill will come due again. But today, at least today, the electricity costs a little less and also illuminates the illusion that it might last.