Embu boda riders demand 10 million from Governor Cecily Mbarire, giving her just 48 hours to hand it over or face them coming for it themselves. The angry group hit the streets in protest after she told a Senate committee the cash went to help their savings groups, but they say none of it ever reached them.
Things boiled over on Thursday in Embu Town. Dozens of motorcycle operators ditched their bikes for placards and chants, marching through dusty roads near local shops.
They weren’t having it anymore. “That 10 million you say is ours; we’ve given you 48 hours to bring it, or we’ll come get it,” declared a leader, grabbing a microphone.
His words, caught on video, spread like fire online, with riders in the background nodding hard and raising fists. No one expected this level of pushback so soon after her Senate grilling.
The mess started earlier this week when Mbarire sat before the County Public Accounts Committee. Auditors had flagged KSh10 million meant for building an industrial park – the kind of project that could create jobs and boost local trade.
But she admitted straight up that her team shifted the money instead to fund a big event for boda boda savings groups. Deputy President Kithure Kindiki arrived as the special guest, expressing the growing pressure to fulfil the promises made to the riders.
“We had pledged support to the SACCOS, so we used it there,” she explained to the senators, looking steady but cornered. No one in the room let it slide easy – questions flew about why divert funds without proper channels.
Riders heard that and flipped. They swiftly assembled, asserting that her remarks had tarnished their reputation. “Stop using us to steal county cash,” one shouted in a clip that’s now everywhere. They insist not a shilling hit their pockets or groups.
Instead, the event felt more like a political show than real help. Photos from the day show crowds in yellow vests, bikes lined up, and speeches flowing, but no one remembers handouts adding up to millions. Protesters want her to either cough up the cash or publicly say they had nothing to do with it. “Clear our name or pay up,” became the chant echoing down the streets.
This isn’t just talk – these guys mean business. Boda boda operators hold real sway in places like Embu. They shuttle folks around daily, know every corner, and when they band together, things move.
Past flare-ups in other counties show they can block roads or rally big if pushed. Here, they have kept it peaceful so far, but the 48-hour clock ticks loud. Security watched close, making sure no one crossed lines, but whispers say if she ignores them, next steps could get tense.
Mbarire’s team stayed quiet right after the demo. She’s built a rep as a hands-on leader since taking office, pushing for better roads and markets. But this spotlights tough choices counties face – balancing quick wins like events with long-haul projects like parks.
Critics online pile on, calling it misuse of public money. “How do you shift development cash to a party?” one post asked, getting thousands of likes. Supporters defend her, saying SACCOS help riders buy bikes or insure them, which lifts everyone.
Kenya’s seen this before. Governors often get hauled before the Senate for odd spending – from ghost workers to overpriced deals. Embu’s case hits different because it pulls in everyday workers like boda guys, who scrape by on tips and fares.
Many joined SACCOS hoping for loans or training, not to front for missing funds. One rider told a reporter off-camera he joined thinking government backing meant real change but now feels used.
The Senate isn’t done yet. Chair Moses Kajwang’ promised follow-ups, maybe calling more witnesses or digging deeper into books. Anti-graft teams might peek in too, sniffing for corruption. For now, eyes stay on Mbarire – will she meet the deadline, explain it away, or let it simmer?
Social media keeps the fire going. Clips of the protest rack up views, with memes mixing her Senate face with rider chants. Some laugh at the drama; others rage about leaders letting people down. “Give them the cash or step aside,” reads a top tweet.
Embu waits on edge. Riders head back to work, but their ultimatum hangs heavy. If nothing happens by Saturday, who knows what comes next? This story shows how one admission can spark a street storm, reminding everyone that public cash belongs to the people – and they’ll fight for it.
In a county pushing for growth, this bump could slow things. Mbarire might refund or redirect to calm waters, but trust takes time to rebuild. Riders just want what’s fair – no more, no less.
