In the crowded streets of Kisii town, a college trained mechanic pushes a handcart loaded with fruits, his eyes scanning the roadside for customers.
Each turn of the wheel takes him further from the workshop he once dreamed of owning.
For Peter Keraka, the cart has become more than a means of transport. It is his lifeline in an economy where qualifications do not always translate into employment.
“I sometimes look at my hands and wonder whether all those years of training were worth it. I studied to repair machines, but today I push a cart to put food on the table,” he says.
Keraka’s story reflects a growing dilemma facing Kenyan graduates: the painful distance between the careers they prepare for and the jobs they eventually take to survive.
In Ogembo, Bomachoge Chache Samuel Nyabuto, another trained mechanic, faces similar challenges. Instead of building a career in the motor industry, he struggles to find opportunities that can put his skills to use.
For Jane Moraa, a laboratory technology graduate from Itumbe, Bobasi, the dream of working in a laboratory has been replaced by the daily routine of plaiting hair at a small salon.
“I went to school believing that one day I would work in a laboratory.
Today, I plait hair to earn a living. Life does not wait for your dreams to come true,” she says.
Her hands, trained for laboratory procedures, now weave hairstyles for customers.
There is dignity in honest work. But for Moraa, the experience raises a painful question: what is the value of years spent acquiring professional skills when opportunities remain elusive?
In Keumbu, Nyaribari Chache, David Ongeri, a trained teacher, has also been forced to change course.
After struggling to make ends meet, he abandoned his classroom ambitions for the matatu industry, where he now works as a tout.
“I wanted to teach and help shape the lives of children. But hunger, rent and bills do not understand your dreams. I had to find another way to survive,” he says.
Ongeri says the pressure to provide for his young family has left him with few choices.
He also admits to participating in political goon activities for money, a troubling illustration of how economic desperation can expose vulnerable young people to exploitation.
“It is about survival. At the end of the day, my family must eat,” he says.
Meanwhile, Brian Lewis, a journalism trainee at Kenya Polytechnic University, watches the struggles of those ahead of him with growing anxiety.
“Every student enters college believing a certificate will open doors. But when you see qualified people struggling, you begin to wonder whether your own dreams will ever become reality,” he says.
For Michael Kebuse, a trained clinician, the answer has been to supplement his earnings by riding a boda boda.
He says salaries in small private hospitals are often inadequate to meet his financial obligations, while opportunities for absorption into public service remain uncertain.
“I cannot sit back and watch bills accumulate. I ride a boda boda in my spare time because my salary alone cannot sustain me,” he says.
Their experiences expose the widening gap between education, employment and economic security.
Across Kenya, families sacrifice savings, sell livestock and borrow money to educate their children, trusting that qualifications will offer them a better future.
Yet graduation increasingly marks the beginning of another struggle: finding a job, earning a decent income and becoming financially independent.
The informal economy provides an escape from complete unemployment.
But many of these jobs offer limited security, irregular earnings and few opportunities for advancement.
The challenge requires deliberate investment in productive employment, support for small businesses, affordable credit and stronger links between training institutions and employers.
For now, Keraka pushes his cart, Moraa plaits hair, Ongeri calls passengers and Lewis continues his journalism training.
None should be ashamed of honest work.
But when a mechanic becomes a hawker, a laboratory graduate a hairdresser and a teacher a matatu tout, the question goes beyond individual survival.
It becomes a national concern: Are Kenyan graduates failing to find opportunities, or is the economy failing to make use of the talent it has spent years training?
Ends
