Another day, another school closed as teargas sends students to hospital beds instead of classrooms - and Kenyan parents are asking when this madness will end.
Several students are currently receiving medical treatment after inhaling teargas during violent unrest at their school, marking yet another chapter in what education officials are calling an unprecedented wave of student riots. The incident, which forced the immediate closure of the institution, adds to a growing list of nearly 40 schools that have shut their doors indefinitely due to similar disturbances across the country.
The teargas deployment highlights just how serious these school riots have become - we're no longer talking about students skipping classes or hiding phones from teachers. These are full-scale disturbances that require police intervention, leaving young Kenyans gasping for air instead of preparing for their KCSE exams. Parents who scrape together school fees by selling vegetables at Wakulima Market or driving matatus through Nairobi traffic are watching their children's futures literally go up in smoke.
This wave of school unrest cuts across counties from Kiambu to Kisumu, affecting both day schools where students commute daily and boarding institutions where teens live away from home. The pattern is becoming disturbingly familiar - student grievances escalate into property destruction, police arrive with teargas, schools close, and thousands of learners are sent home with uncertain return dates.
For ordinary Kenyan families, each school closure means more than just disrupted learning - it's lost income for parents who must leave work to care for children sent home, it's wasted transport money for day scholars, and it's the crushing worry that a child's academic year might be completely derailed. The ripple effects reach every corner of community life, from boda boda operators who lose their school-run customers to small shops near institutions that depend on student traffic.
The hospitalization of students after teargas exposure raises serious questions about how authorities handle these situations and whether the cure has become worse than the disease. When the very places meant to nurture Kenya's future leaders become battlegrounds requiring police intervention, something fundamental has broken in our education system.
As more schools join the closure list and more students end up in hospital beds instead of lecture halls, one question haunts every Kenyan parent tonight - will your child's school be next, and what will it take to bring sanity back to our classrooms?