THE CAMPUS ECONOMY: ‘MJENGO’

Are Comrades Boycotting Classes or the Economy is Pushing them Out ?

By BRIAN KIBET 

Chuka University 2nd Year Media Student 

At sunrise in Chuka, students trickle into  lecture halls with notebooks tucked under their arms, exchanging sleepy greetings before lessons begin. A few streets away from the institutions’ gates, a minority group of ‘’comrades’ balance wheelbarrows of sand before grabbing a shovel to mix cement. As a good number climb scaffold, other’s hands are covered in dust as their backs bend under the weight of bricks. 

This is an emerging phenomenon across Kenyan campuses today; where students skip lectures to make quick cash from employers who demand long hours of physical labour. For most of them, the decision is survival rather than rebellion; a boycott against hunger if you will. 

The Price

Those from poor socioeconomic backgrounds often begin the dream of higher education with sacrifice. Their parents sell livestock, take loans or even combine family resources to raise tuition fees because the admission letter is a household victory. But once the degree journey kicks off, survival becomes less guaranteed. Rent, food, internet bundles, printing assignments, transport, and personal necessities quickly pile up. Within weeks, the small allowance most of them receive disappears.

Speaking to one Kevin, pursuing an Engineering career, he openly described how he occasionally works at nearby construction sites with quiet honesty. “Some times my parents manage to pay the fees,” he said. “But they cannot send money for everything else. If I don’t work, I don’t eat.”

Campus Life

University life carries social expectations that many students are unprepared for. Relationships, social status, and the desire to fit into the culture often come with financial costs. Most of them admit to feeling the pressure to pay for meals, transport, or small luxuries in their relationships. 

In some cases, these students find themselves supporting partners and even helping raise children. These burdens rarely appear in academic reports, but they shape how students spend their course period in school. 

The “Sherehe Economy”

Weekend parties, nightlife, and social gatherings promise an escape from academic stress at a cost. Most of my fellow young scholars fall into cycles of a drug habit that demand constant financial support at these events. To sustain these acquired tastes, they resort to ‘M​jengo’, a synonymous to hard labor. It pays immediately but at the cost of education during graduation,  where they barely pass as most of them drop out. For most of them, university is the first time they manage money independently. Few arrive equipped with the skills needed to budget, plan expenses and prioritize necessities. 

Practical Solutions

Today’s students have access to freelance writing, graphic design, coding, digital marketing, online tutoring, and content creation. With the right training and support, these platforms provide flexible income without forcing students to skip lectures. Nonetheless, the student president at KMTC Kilifi recently convinced the institution to install pool tables on campus, turning recreation into a sustainable revenue stream. The money generated now funds a welfare program that provides weekly meals to struggling nurses. Hence, this initiative shows that solutions only require creativity and empathy. Furthermore, most of our parents are ignorant to the broader financial demands of campus life. Therefore,  orientation programs and regular update will help them understand the true cost of student life and encourage closer follow-up on academic progress.

Dusty Dreams

The sight of a university student carrying bricks under the scorching sun is a story about dreams colliding with reality. Every student working at a ‘mjengo’ once walked into a lecture hall with hope of a degree, a career, and a future that would lift their families out of hardship. But when survival is uncertain, even the strongest dreams die. Still, beneath graveyards of these dreams at the construction sites, some of these intellectuals still believe in the power of education. The real question then becomes whether the school systems will enable them to remain in class long enough to wear the honorary hat.

By WESLEY ORIWO

Second Year BA Journalism and Mass Communication Student,  Chuka University 

It begins as it often does, in the quiet hours. The 4 a.m stare at a ceiling board strained with the anxieties of a thousand headlines. The weight of a tuition fee that feels heavier than the books it paid for. The crushing silence of a phone that won't ring , a stark reminder of the loneliness that thrives in a crowd of 20,000 students.

This is not the university experience captured in glossy brochures. There are no smiling faces here, no triumphant graduation gowns. This is the other campus , the one hidden in plain sight, echoing not with laughter but with a deafening silence . It is in these hallways , in these hostels and behind these brave faces that Kenya's universities are facing a crisis that their are ill-equiped to handle ; a full -blown mental health emergency.

For a very long time, we have romanticised the hustle and stigmatized the struggle. Students are told to man up or to pray about it as if depression and anxiety are demons that can be exorcised by sheer willpower. The result is a generation suffering in solitude , their pain masked by the pursuit of a degree that society tells them is the only ticket to a decent life.

The statistics paint a grim picture. A 2019 study by the Kenya Institute of Management in partnership with the Africa Mental Health Foundation reveals that one in four university students shows symptoms of depression. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, counsellors in both public and private universities report a tripling of students seeking help.

More recent research from the Technical University of Mombasa confirms that depression is a significant global mental health issue affecting countless individuals, with severe consequences including suicide. The study highlights students reporting financial struggles are at a higher risk for mental health problems emphasizing the need to address mental health in young adult populations, particularly among those of lower socio-economic status. 

These numbers are just the tip of the iceberg. In 2023 alone, over 150 students deaths were reported across universities, colleges and polytechnics in Kenya. The causes vary from suicide and love triangles to violent crimes and unresolved murders. Suicide remains one of the leading causes of death among university students with academic pressures, financial struggles and personal conflicts contributing significantly to students' mental distress.

On February 24, 2026 , the body of Dickson Mutinda , a second year business management student at Moi University's Annex campus in Kesses , was found hanging on a truss in his room at Sugumanga shopping centre. His roommates had left him in the room and gone for afternoon classes. When they returned, they found the door locked from inside. Forcing it open, they discovered Mutinda dead. He left a suicide note , his final words ,"I could not keep fighting". 

On April 22, 2025, students at the University of Nairobi woke up to a nightmare. Dennis Kamunya, a Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery third year student was found dead at the bottom of the main campus swimming pool. Before his death, Kamunya had posted farewell messages on his social media pages. On WhatsApp, he wrote, " At the bottom of the pool. Down where the water is silent and deep. I rest where bubbles and secrets sleep. I didn't mean to cause a fuss or offence, but better to drown than live forever tense". On his X account, he added, " Even though anxiety, depression and drug addiction kicked my ass , I still count myself lucky". 

The University of Nairobi Students Association described him as a "bright and promising student, known for his dedication to his studies, his warmth and his quiet strength". In their condolence message they issued a plea , " As a community of future healthcare providers, we must continue to normalise open conversations about mental wellbeing, checking in on each other and seeking help when we need it. No one should have to struggle in silence ".

At the Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology, two students reportedly died by suicide after missing inn the graduation list. a brutal reminder of how academic pressure can become lethal.

Research identifies clear patterns behind students' mental health crises. A study examining depression among university students found that relationship problems and family issues accounted for 24.75% and 19.80% of student suicides respectively. Academic failure or pressure, financial difficulties, alcohol and substance misuse and depression are consistently cited as leading factors.

I want to say this is not a call to pamper students but it is a call to equip them . A university's duty of care cannot end at the lecture hall door. It must extend to the mind that is meant to absorb knowledge. This requires a radical shift in approach. It is not enough to have one overworked counsellor for 10,000 students. I am not an expert on mental health issues but we need a strategy to overcome these things.

First, de-stigmatization must be a core curriculum. Mental health literacy should be taught alongside communication skills. We must normalise conversations about stress and anxiety from the very first week of orientation, making it clear that seeking help is a sign of strength and not weakness.

Second, we must train our gatekeepers. Lecturers, hostel wardens and even fellow students should be equipped with basic mental health first -aid skills. They need to recognise the signs , the sudden withdrawals , the drop in grades , the cries of help disguised as jokes and know how to respond with compassion and not with punishment.

Third, we need to built a community, not just facilities. A mental health care is useless if students are afraid to walk into it. Universities must foster peer support networks ,safe spaces where students can share their burdens without judgement. Sometimes the most powerful therapy is knowing you are not alone.

As Dennis Kamunya wrote his final message, " The greatest thing about my life was that I got to learn evolution. I belonged to one of the few generations that got to know and possibly why we are here ". He knew why he was here . He understood his place in the world but understanding alone could not save him.

The " silent crisis in the hallways" is a test of our national character. It asks whether we value our product, the graduate, more than the person. As a country, we pour billions into higher education, hoping to build the next generation of leaders , innovators and doctors but we are building them on a foundation of sand.

The mind of a student is not a machine to be programmed for exams. It is a garden, and right now , in the hallowed halls of universities, too many of these gardens are withering in the dark. It is time to open the windows , let in the light and finally tend to the souls we claim to be educating. The future of our nation depends on it . 

If you are a student struggling with mental health challenges, please reach out to your university's counselling department or call the Kenya Red Cross toll-free suicide prevention hotline: 1199. You are not alone.