Tragedy of schoolboy without fare exposes cracks in Kenya's social safety net

It was just after dawn, amid the familiar rush of a Kenyan morning. Children in school uniforms hurried out of their homes, tea was gulped down in haste, and parents were already on the move.

In that early bustle, one student left home in a hurry and forgot his fare on the table.

It was a small mistake, the kind that happens every day, like forgotten homework or a lunch box left behind.

But this time, it ended in tragedy, raising painful questions after reports that a student died after allegedly being unable to pay his fare.

“When did we stop seeing children, not as students, passengers or customers, but simply as children? Because before all the investigations, statements and headlines, there was a young person in a school uniform trying to get to school,” laments Prof Rebecca Wambua, an educationist, author and counsellor.

She adds: “Somewhere along the way, something went terribly wrong. But this story is bigger than one bus. It is bigger than one conductor and bigger than one morning.”

According to Prof Wambua, the incident reflects a deeper question about the kind of society Kenyans have become.

Family counsellor and coach Catherine Mugendi says many Kenyans grew up hearing a simple phrase: “Mtoto ni wa jamii” (a child belongs to all of us).

She notes that it was not unusual for a neighbour to discipline a child, for a shopkeeper to look out for them, or for a stranger to help them find their way home.

“Remember the ‘Kwa Mbae’ story that went viral?” she asks.

“If a pupil forgot fare, someone stepped in. If a child looked lost, someone asked questions. If a teenager appeared distressed, someone offered help,” says Mugendi.

According to her, children once moved through communities protected by an invisible safety net woven by ordinary adults.

Today, however, that safety net appears to be fraying.

Urban life, she says, has made many people busier, more suspicious and increasingly isolated.

“We keep our eyes on our phones and our headphones in our ears. We have become experts at minding our own business, but unfortunately, children are paying the price,” notes Prof Wambua.

Psychologists describe this as the bystander effect, where people are less likely to intervene when others are present.

“The sad thing is that sometimes, as in the case of the schoolboy who allegedly lacked fare, nobody does,” she says.

Psychologist Geoffrey Onduto argues that responsibility for children's welfare should be collective.

“Children should not be left alone in adult crises,” he says, noting that many already navigate such situations daily on their way to and from school.

From early-morning commutes to busy transfers across the city, many children travel independently, often dealing with delays, mistakes and unfamiliar situations without adult guidance.

Yet experts warn that few families adequately prepare children for such realities, including what to do when money is lost, they become stranded, or they feel unsafe while travelling.

Mugendi says these are difficult but necessary conversations, often postponed until tragedy forces reflection.

She calls for greater emphasis on practical life skills alongside formal education.

Children, she says, should be taught how to seek help, memorise emergency contacts and understand that mistakes should never cost them their dignity or compassion from others.

Onduto defines compassion as recognising vulnerability and responding with humanity.

“A forgotten fare should be a problem, but never a catastrophe,” he says.

He warns that beyond the visible dangers children face, society is also losing its sense of shared responsibility for young people who often depend on the kindness of adults they do not know.