I never imagined that a simple packet of maize flour would teach me so much about Kenya. One evening, as I reached for my usual brand, I noticed the bold label that read “fortified for your health.” Out of habit, I turned it over to see what that really meant.
The fine print left me with more questions than answers. How much of what we eat is truly nourishing, and how much is slowly weakening us? That moment in the supermarket prompted me to search through reports I had never intended to read. What I found must wake us up.
Across our villages and towns, the evidence is heartbreaking. According to the 2022 Kenya Demographic and Health Survey, 18 per cent of children under five are stunted. Behind that national average, deeper inequalities exist. Kilifi has a rate of 37 per cent, West Pokot at 34 per cent, and Samburu at 31 per cent.
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In parts of Kenya, one in three children will never reach their full height or potential due to their diet. There has been progress since 2014, when stunting was at 26 per cent.
At the same time, our food system is evolving in ways that threaten our future. Kenya now faces a triple burden of malnutrition, where undernutrition, micronutrient deficiency, and obesity all exist within the same households. The World Health Organisation reports that poor diets cause eleven million deaths worldwide each year, surpassing tobacco. That global tragedy is quietly happening here at home. A recent assessment by the Access to Nutrition Initiative showed that nearly 90 per cent of packaged foods and drinks sold in Kenya would require health warning labels for high levels of salt, sugar, or saturated fat under our new Nutrient Profile Model. We’ve turned convenience into slow poison. Urban shelves are filled with chips, sugary drinks, and white bread, while traditional foods like millet, sorghum, cassava, and beans are often relegated to the background.
Meanwhile, the cost of eating well is rising beyond the reach of most families. Food inflation averaged 8 per cent in 2025, making even basic staples unaffordable for many households. When money is tight, nutrition becomes the first sacrifice. Families buy what fills the stomach, not what sustains the body. It is no surprise that 79 per cent of Kenyans cannot afford a healthy diet, according to the Access to Nutrition Market Assessment of 2025. Behind every political debate, this quiet suffering continues.
Malnutrition robs Kenya of billions through lost productivity, poor health, and weak learning outcomes. The World Bank estimates that reducing child stunting could raise national GDP by up to three per cent. A nourished child learns better, works smarter, and helps build a stronger nation. The good news, as I have found out, is that solutions are available. Kenya was once praised worldwide for eliminating iodine deficiency through the iodisation of salt. We can replicate that success to address other nutrients. The National Food and Nutrition Security Policy of 2025 provides a strong foundation, but policy alone cannot nourish a nation.
It must be well-funded, effectively enforced, and implemented. The fortification of maize and wheat flour requires verification, not just claims. Aflatoxin in stored grain should be treated as a national emergency, just as we should stop using pesticides that are banned elsewhere.
The private sector must ethically reformulate products, reduce harmful fats, and strictly follow labeling laws. Retailers should prioritise health as much as profit. Citizens must choose wholesome, locally grown foods. This is not nostalgia; it is a matter of national security.
Nutrition is about survival, not style. Every meal should be honest, not harmful. A nation that neglects its diet weakens its future. Kenya needs to act now by uniting strict food policies, industry, and family life for better health. Friends, do you agree that we can’t build a strong nation on bad food? Think Green, Act Green!
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By Isaac Kalua Green