I grew up with an uncle who was a practical man. The kind of man who never waited for “experts” to come explain what could or couldn’t work. If it looked possible, he tried it. From fixing bicycles to wiring little gadgets, to experimenting with solar panels long before they became fashionable, he was always tinkering.
Many of the boda boda riders in my village might know him for his endless energy and curiosity. But I knew him quite differently.
One day, he left me in charge of his little kingdom of experiments—a broken solar panel, a car battery, and most importantly, the TV it powered. I was barely in Standard 3 or 4, but the excitement was too much. With an old IGCSE science textbook as my guide, I started fiddling with the battery, connecting and disconnecting wires, trying to “improve” the voltage.
I had no idea what I was doing. I just knew it was thrilling. The TV flickered, sometimes went off, and of course, the outcome of my “experiments” was a proper whacking later. But something stuck.
From those moments, I learned a lesson I still carry today: technology only makes sense when it is localized and contextualized. It’s not about stories from abroad, or big theories in Nairobi boardrooms. It’s about what works here, for us, with what we already have.
The Case for Solar Boda Boda Shades
Fast forward to Vihiga County today. We have over 15,000 boda boda riders and more than 100 boda boda shades built with taxpayer money. These shades are functional but underutilized. Riders still spend most of their days at the mercy of petrol prices that rise and fall like a stubborn tide.
Now here’s the question: what if those shades weren’t just shelters, but solar charging hubs for e-bikes?
The technology exists. I’ve seen it with my own eyes in Kigali with Ampersand. Nairobi is already experimenting with Roam and Mazi Mobility, companies pioneering affordable e-bikes and battery-swapping systems. Riders in those cities are cutting their daily fuel costs by more than half. Why not here?
The Numbers Don’t Lie
A petrol boda rider spends Ksh 400–600 a day on fuel. That’s up to Ksh 18,000 a month.
An e-bike rider spends Ksh 150–200 per full charge, enough for 100 km. Monthly charging costs hover around Ksh 4,000–5,000.
That’s a 60–70% saving. In real terms, it means a boda rider could take home an extra Ksh 10,000–12,000 every month. Multiply that by the over 10,000 riders in Vihiga, and you’ve just shifted billions from oil companies back into the pockets of youth.
Why Vihiga Can Lead
We already have the shades.
We already have the riders.
We already have the sun.
What we don’t yet have is the courage to experiment.
And that’s what I learnt from my uncle’s backyard. You don’t wait for the perfect plan. You start small, you tinker, you test, and you localize the technology until it works for your people.
A Call to Action
Vihiga County Government should pick one boda boda shade—just one—and pilot a solar-powered charging hub. Bring in partners like Ampersand, Roam, or Mazi Mobility. Use climate action funds already available for renewable energy. Let the riders see for themselves how much they save.
Because until we try, all the theories in the world mean nothing.
Final Thought:
I may have earned a few whacks from my solar tinkering days, but I also earned a conviction: progress comes to those who dare to try. If we want to ease the burden on our youth and build resilience in our local economy, then the time has come to stop talking petrol and start thinking solar.
Vihiga doesn’t need to wait. Vihiga can lead.
About Author: Kevin Makova
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