The book of Ezra features a poignant scene when the foundation of the new temple is laid after years of exile. Something strange happened as the people came together. The younger generation shouted with joy, excited about the future, while the older generation wept, remembering the glory of the past (Ezra 3:10-13). The sounds came together to make a single, hard-to-understand noise: joy and anguish, hope and grief, vision and memory.
This scene depicts a reality that is very much present in Kenya at the moment. Our country is at a crossroads for the next generation. A new generation has risen on the streets, online, in parliaments, and public forums. They are angry, outspoken, and daring to conceive a different Kenya. Many of them feel betrayed by a system that has promised much but delivered little. They are angry due to the high cost of living, the weight of debt, the debilitating impact of corruption, and the pain of inequality. Their agitation is not aimless; it is a demand for dignity, equity, and a future.
At the same time, many people in the elderly age group watch with a mix of worry and concern. They remember where we’ve come from: the dark years of colonial rule, the struggles for independence, the pain of one-party dominance, and the hard-won gains of constitutional reform. For them, progress has been slow but real. They fear that the push for radical change could destroy the fragile gains Kenya has made. They long for stability, not revolution
Kenya is currently undergoing a period of change, much like the reconstructed temple did in the time of Ezra. We are building a new foundation in all three areas: socially, economically, and politically. And just like back then, our voices are clashing. Some are weeping. Others are shouting. And the sound, at times, feels chaotic.
But it doesn’t have to lead to collapse.
The future of Kenya depends on our ability to hold the tension between generations—between memory and imagination, between appreciation and agitation. We must learn to do two things at once:
- Be thankful for where we have come from. We should never forget the hard work and sacrifice that went into making our country. We should honour the sacrifices of those who came before us, not ignore them. Their stories are a part of who we are.
- Pay close attention to what the present is saying. The youth’s rage is not a rebellion; it is a call for justice. Ignoring it means ignoring the heart of the country. The young people’s demands reveal how we have failed and urge us to take greater responsibility for our actions.
Therefore, we need visionary leaders who can understand both the weeping and the shouting without stopping either of them. Leaders who can speak both the language of memory and the language of vision. Elders who do not dismiss the young as naïve, and youth who do not disregard the elders as irrelevant. Elders who don’t think the young are stupid, and young people who don’t think the old are useless.
As Kenyans, we shouldn’t let our age, ethnicity, or political views make us hate one another. We need to stay away from politics that hurt and disrespect others. This friction between generations can pull us apart if we don’t handle it with care. But if we use it appropriately, it might be the best way for us to start over.
Let’s make Kenya a place where the tears of the past and the shouts of the future come together to create a melody of hope. Let’s teach each other how to remember, how to dream, and, most importantly, how to work together. The older folk must learn to work with young people, and the younger folk must learn how to work with the older generation.
We are not enemies. We are each other’s gifts.