Cosmetic plastic ban? Kenya’s struggle with waste management

By Daisy Okiring

Nairobi, Kenya — “Kenya has one of the toughest plastic bag bans in the world,” declared the United Nations in 2019.

But nearly eight years later, the question lingers: Is the ban working, or are plastic bags creeping back into Kenyan society under the radar?

When Kenya outlawed the manufacture, sale, and use of plastic carrier bags in 2017, it made headlines globally. Offenders faced fines of up to KSh 4 million (around $40,000) or four years in jail. The law was hailed as a bold environmental move in a region suffocating under the weight of plastic pollution.

But walk through markets in Nairobi’s Eastlands, Mombasa’s Old Town, or Eldoret’s informal settlements, and you’ll still find vendors discreetly handing out single-use plastic bags. What happened to Kenya’s world-famous ban?

A bold ban with blobal praise

The 2017 ban, implemented by the National Environment Management Authority (NEMA), was designed to tackle an alarming waste crisis. According to the UN Environment Programme, Nairobi alone was producing over 2,400 tonnes of solid waste daily, 20% of which was plastic. Much of this waste clogged drainage systems, caused urban flooding, and choked livestock in rural areas.

Kenya became a trailblazer in Africa, setting a precedent for other nations like Rwanda, Tanzania, and Ethiopia to follow.

“We were proud of the ban,” says Mary Wanjiru, an environmental activist in Nairobi. “For once, the government had taken a hard stance to protect our environment.”

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And the impact was initially visible. Supermarkets and major retail chains stopped providing plastic bags, opting for reusable and compostable alternatives. Rivers once buried in plastic began to show signs of recovery.

Black market bags and enforcement gaps

But despite early success, enforcement has proven difficult. The informal sector, which accounts for over 80% of Kenya’s retail activity, remains largely unregulated.

“Plastic bags didn’t disappear—they just went underground,” says a market trader in Gikomba, who requested anonymity. “We still use them because they’re cheap, light, and customers prefer them.”

A 2023 report by the Kenya Association of Waste Recyclers found that illicit plastic bags are being smuggled in from neighboring countries like Uganda and Ethiopia, where bans are less stringent or poorly enforced. Small-scale manufacturers within Kenya have also allegedly resumed production covertly.

NEMA’s Director General, Mamo B. Mamo, acknowledged the challenge in a 2022 interview: “Our law is strong, but enforcement is uneven, especially in rural areas and informal markets.”

Environmental costs still rising

Despite the ban, Kenya continues to face a massive plastic waste problem. According to the World Bank’s 2023 “Kenya Urban Waste Report,” less than 10% of plastic waste in the country is recycled. The rest ends up in landfills, rivers, and open dumpsites.

Lake Victoria, one of Africa’s largest freshwater lakes, is choking under plastic pollution, with studies showing that up to 74% of fish in the lake contain microplastics.

“These plastics break down into toxins that enter our food chain,” says Dr. Lucy Omondi, a marine biologist at Kisumu University. “It’s a ticking time bomb for public health and biodiversity.”

The role of alternatives: Cost vs sustainability

One of the criticisms leveled at the ban is the lack of affordable, accessible alternatives. Biodegradable bags, cloth sacks, and woven baskets are often too expensive for low-income earners.

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“It’s a class issue,” says Mwikali Mutinda, a sociologist at the University of Nairobi. “Middle-class Kenyans can afford canvas bags. But for the poor, especially market vendors and casual workers, plastic remains the only viable option.”

Manufacturers, too, are hesitant to invest in alternative packaging without clear government subsidies or incentives.

Policy vs practice: Where’s the political will?

Environmentalists argue that the government has slowed its momentum. “After the initial shock of the ban, we haven’t seen consistent follow-through,” says James Karanja, founder of CleanUp Kenya.

According to a 2024 audit by Transparency International, only 3 out of 47 counties have established functional solid waste management plans aligned with the ban.

“Laws alone are not enough,” Karanja continues. “We need better waste segregation, recycling infrastructure, and community education.

Innovations and hope on the horizon

Despite the setbacks, some Kenyans are finding creative ways to tackle plastic waste. Nairobi-based startup Gjenge Makers, founded by Nzambi Matee, is turning plastic waste into durable bricks used for construction. Her initiative has earned global attention and even recognition by the United Nations.

“We can’t ban our way out of the plastic crisis. We need to build a circular economy,” Matee said in a recent TEDx talk.

The government, too, has taken steps—albeit slow ones. In 2020, it banned plastic bottles and cutlery in protected areas like national parks. The Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR) Regulations of 2021 now require companies to take responsibility for the entire lifecycle of their plastic products.

Where do we go from here?

The future of Kenya’s plastic ban depends not just on stronger enforcement, but on sustained public awareness, grassroots innovation, and government investment in alternatives.

“The ban was never a silver bullet,” says Wanjiru. “But it was a start. Now we must ask—do we move forward, or do we let plastic creep back into our lives?”

As Kenya continues to grapple with rapid urbanization and a growing consumer culture, the country’s struggle with sustainable waste management remains a powerful symbol of the larger global battle against plastic pollution.