When the smoke stopped billowing from the chimney of Mumias Sugar factory in 2014, it was starkly clear that farmers’ livelihood was at stake.
The once-roaring boilers had fallen silent, and the fiery furnaces had turned to cold steel.
The heartbeat of a thriving sugar economy had faded away, leaving farmers that supplied sugar cane to the factory with sweet memories and sour taste.
Following the shutdown, chilling uncertainty engulfed the once-vibrant hub of sugar production in the country as the firm located in Western Kenya had been brought to its knees.
The move sent shockwaves across the region, with sugarcane farmers, business owners and families feeling the impact.
Then, many said the closure was as a result of crippling debt, political machinations mismanagement and harsh market competition.
The aroma of tea, sweetened with sugar from the farm next door, once a symbol of happy gatherings, and sipped with joy amid lively discussions, turned bitter.
Conversations shifted from pleasantries to the heartbreaking realities facing the region’s backbone – the sugar farmers.
Families grappled with impossible choices. But the hardest days were those that had once been payday – a time when farmers, factory employees and businesses came alive with the buzz of money changing hands.
Market stalls brimmed with fresh produce, butchers sharpened their knives in anticipation of brisk sales and traders eagerly stocked their shelves, knowing that pockets would be full and spending was inevitable.
The hum of economic activity was unmistakable, a rhythm set in motion by the steady rolling mills of Mumias Sugar.
Then, the factory fell silent, and with it, the lifeblood of the local economy evaporated.
But on January 20, the silence and hopelessness were broken after President William Ruto arrived in western Kenya with an announcement that brought hope to the hopelessness.
In his hands were bonus cheques, a gesture never before seen in the country’s sugar history.
Ruto’s gesture was received with skepticism even as critics termed the move as political theatrics.
Hardened by several years of betrayal, cane farmers embraced the government’s move with skepticism.
Redempta Makhoha, a sugar farmer in Busia county, was cynical.
“When I got the notification that the bonus had been deposited in my account, I did not sleep that night. I immediately looked for my friends and asked them, where are you? The money is here,” Makhoha said.
“Let us go celebrate before they change their minds. I was ready to blow two, three, four, or Sh5, 000, because honestly, I was skeptical. What if the bonus is reversed?”
Makhoha said upon receiving the funds in her account, she dashed to withdraw as she feared that the money would be reversed.
“In fact, I rushed to withdraw the money so that if they decided to reverse it, I would already have the cash. I received a total of Sh317, 000 from my two accounts.”
Steven Ekirapa said he was happy after receiving a bonus of Sh400,000.
“I was so surprised that I called the bank to confirm. Later, my farm supervisor, Sonkok, called me to verify the same. I was elated when I heard about the amount,” Ekirapa said, adding that the financial boost came at a time he needed it most, as he wanted to pay school fees.
While the recent financial incentives signal a strong commitment, farmers like Henry Onzee say there is still uncertainty on the long-term sustainability of the sugar industry
