There’s a photograph I keep coming back to, though I can’t quite place where I first saw it. It shows the old Lunatic Line, the railway that once connected Mombasa to Kampala, cutting through the Rift Valley with an audacity that feels almost impossible today. Built over a century ago by colonial powers with their own agendas, it was nonetheless an engineering marvel that stitched together a fractured region and sparked economic life along its path.
Fast forward to now, and Kenya is at a crossroads. Literally. Nairobi’s roads are clogged beyond reason. Matatus jostle for space with private cars and bodabodas, and everyone’s late to everything. Meanwhile, our brand-new Standard Gauge Railway sits underutilised, caught in debates about debt and viability. Yet here’s what we’re not talking about enough: rail might be one of the smartest climate bets East Africa can make.
The climate case we can’t ignore
Let’s be honest about where we are. Kenya has positioned itself as a climate leader in Africa. We host UNEP headquarters, we’ve championed renewable energy, we banned plastic bags before most of the West did. But transport? That’s our growing blind spot. The sector now accounts for roughly 12% of Kenya’s carbon emissions, and with vehicle ownership rising and middle-class aspirations tied to car ownership, that number keeps climbing.
Here’s where rail changes the conversation. The International Energy Agency’s data shows that rail carries about 7% of global passenger travel but accounts for just 1% of transport emissions. In practical terms, electrified rail produces around 31 grams of CO₂ per passenger-kilometre. Compare that to the average car at 170 grams. Suddenly you’re looking at an 80% reduction per person. For a country that’s already feeling climate shocks (droughts in the north, floods in Budalang’i, unpredictable seasons threatening our tea and coffee exports) these numbers actually matter.
The journal Nature recently published research arguing that global rail revival isn’t just romantic nostalgia. It’s pragmatic climate strategy. Their point hits close to home for us: rail isn’t only about moving people efficiently. It’s about equity. It’s about reconnecting rural regions that urbanisation and shrinking public transport routes have left behind. Sound familiar?
What rail actually gives us
Walk through Kenya’s history and you’ll see rail’s fingerprints everywhere. Nakuru, Kisumu, Eldoret. These towns grew up around railway stations. The original line didn’t just move cargo. It moved possibility. Markets expanded. People migrated for work. Ideas travelled.
We’ve largely forgotten that over the past few decades, letting the old Metre Gauge Railway deteriorate whilst everyone who could afford it bought a car or hopped on a bus. But here’s what we lost in that shift: shared space. A train is fundamentally democratic. You can’t choose your fellow passengers. The lawyer sits next to the mama mboga, the university student beside the mzee heading upcountry. There’s something powerful in that proximity, that reminder that we’re all headed somewhere together.
Beyond the social fabric, the economic case is equally strong. Look at what Ethiopia has done with the Addis Ababa Light Rail. Since its launch in 2015, it’s created thousands of jobs and transformed how people move through the capital. The system carries over 100,000 passengers daily, taking pressure off congested roads and giving workers back hours they used to lose in traffic. Or consider Morocco’s Al Boraq high-speed train connecting Casablanca and Tangier. Within two years of operation, the line had carried over 3 million passengers and boosted tourism significantly in cities along the route.
Think about what revitalising the railway between Nairobi and Mombasa could do. Or extending reliable passenger service to Kisumu, Nakuru, and beyond. Counties that have watched economic activity concentrate in the capital could finally catch a break.
And let’s talk about time. Anyone who’s driven from Nairobi to Mombasa knows the journey. Eight hours if you’re lucky. Longer if there’s an accident on the escarpment or if you get stuck behind a convoy of lorries at Mtito Andei. The SGR cuts that to under five hours. That’s time you get back. Time to work, read, sleep, or simply stare out the window at the stunning landscape between the coast and the highlands.
The hard truths
I’d be dishonest if I didn’t acknowledge the obvious challenges. The SGR has become a lightning rod for debate about Chinese loans and debt sustainability. Fair enough. Those conversations need to happen. But let’s not throw out the infrastructure with the financing model. The question isn’t whether we should have modern rail. It’s how we make it work for us economically and operationally.
Kenya isn’t alone in struggling with big rail projects. Nigeria’s Lagos-Ibadan railway faced years of delays and funding challenges before finally becoming operational. Tanzania’s SGR project to Dar es Salaam has grappled with similar debt concerns and utilisation questions. Trains are hard. They demand coordination across decades, not just election cycles. They need land, patience, and sustained public commitment. None of which come easily in our political environment where everything is measured in five-year terms.
But these challenges don’t erase the fundamental value. They just mean we need to be smarter. Maybe the answer isn’t always high-speed rail. Maybe it’s modernising commuter rail around Nairobi. Maybe it’s ensuring the SGR runs frequently enough and affordably enough that people actually choose it over flying or driving. Maybe it’s about integrating rail with BRT systems and matatu routes so the last mile doesn’t become an insurmountable barrier.
A mosaic, not a silver bullet
Here’s what I keep thinking about. There’s no single solution that fixes everything. Project Drawdown (a nonprofit that ranks global climate solutions by impact) puts improved public transit amongst the top 25 strategies worldwide. By mid-century, better rail and transit systems could help avoid more than 5 gigatonnes of CO₂. That’s a staggering amount, roughly what the entire African continent currently emits in two years. But even they stress that progress depends on multiple strategies working together. Renewable energy, better agriculture, cleaner industry, smarter urban planning.
For Kenya, that means rail is part of the picture, not the whole canvas. We’ll still need matatus serving neighbourhoods where rail can’t reach. We’ll need electric vehicles as the technology becomes more affordable. We’ll need better cycling infrastructure in our cities and pedestrian-friendly urban design. The goal isn’t to eliminate cars or force everyone onto trains. It’s to give people real choices. Choices that don’t come with the planet-sized cost we’re currently paying.
Looking ahead
So where does that leave us? Kenya has something most countries would envy: relatively young infrastructure already in place. The SGR exists. The old colonial-era rail corridor still runs through the heart of the country. We’re not starting from zero. We’re deciding whether to build on what we have or let it languish underused whilst our cities choke on traffic and emissions.
The truth is, Kenyans still love their cars. There’s status in owning one, freedom in having your own space, convenience in leaving when you want. That emotional bond isn’t going anywhere soon, and maybe it doesn’t have to. But we can create a system where cars aren’t the only viable option. Where taking the train to Mombasa is faster, cheaper, and more pleasant than driving. Where commuting into Nairobi from Ruiru or Athi River by rail beats sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Thika Road.
The world that colonial engineers imagined when they built the Lunatic Line was built on extraction and empire. But the physical infrastructure they left behind? That can serve a different vision. One where connectivity means opportunity. Where climate action and economic development reinforce each other. Where getting from point A to point B doesn’t cost us the planet.
Progress isn’t about choosing one path over all others. It’s about building a system where different solutions work together. Rail linking cities, buses connecting neighbourhoods, electric vehicles filling the gaps, and yes, even space for the cars people love. The goal isn’t just to move faster. It’s to move wisely, towards a future that can sustain the journey for everyone trying to make it.
