More than 3,000 Koko fuel supply points across Kenya are out of service, without fuel and without a clear answer for the households that depended on them.
For more than a decade, Koko Networks has helped over 1.5 million Kenyan households without access to the public gas network to switch from smoking coal stoves to bioethanol, marketed as a cleaner and more modern way to cook.
The steady blue flame became a symbol of Kenya's commitment to cleaner domestic energy. That promise has faded. After failing to secure the government authorization letter that would have allowed them to sell carbon credits (permits that allow their holders to emit a certain amount of greenhouse gases), Koko abruptly shut down its fuel distribution network, ending a model once hailed as the epitome of Africa's green transition.
The stoves go dark with the closure of Koko. In Kibera, Nairobi's largest slum, most of the Koko network's outlets have closed, and some have even removed their bioethanol dispensers. Since 2014, Koko had been importing bioethanol products. This came to an abrupt end in 2023 when the government refused to renew its import license, forcing Koko to rely on irregular and more expensive local sources.
This reality hit Fredrick Onchenge hard. He used to serve up to 50 Koko customers a day. Now, his machines are silent. “At first, I was disoriented,” Onchenge says. “Then I realized what had happened. I had no way to make a living. I tried calling the vendor, but his phone was off.” For many customers, their access ended with a text message announcing the closure. The kitchens that once prepared smoke-free meals now stand with unused two-burner stoves, remnants of a system that shut down overnight. Grace Kathambi is weighing her options. “It’s changed my life,” she says. “I couldn’t afford the $8 it took to refill a gas cylinder, and Koko was my best alternative. For about 30 US cents, I could buy enough Koko fuel to cook.”
With the bioethanol supply cut off, households like hers now have to choose between going back to charcoal or finding the money to buy more expensive liquefied petroleum gas. “I can’t afford gas,” said Margaret Auma. “Koko made life so much easier for those of us who earn little through casual work. We feel abandoned, but it’s not our fault.”
Koko faces approval hurdles. For weeks, Koko and the Kenyan government negotiated a crucial letter authorizing carbon credits and import permits for bioethanol made from molasses, a byproduct of sugarcane. The company needed these approvals to unlock millions of dollars in international financing that helped keep fuel prices low. Kenyan authorities were reluctant, citing broader concerns about the credibility of carbon credits.
Koko, whose investors included the Microsoft Climate Innovation Fund and South Africa's Rand Merchant Bank, announced on January 30 that without these authorizations, its business model was not financially viable and that it was ceasing operations.
“The Koko case is particularly complex,” said David Ndii, Kenya’s presidential economic advisor. Mr. Ndii cited several issues, including the framework of the Paris Agreement, questions about the credibility of carbon credits for cookstoves, Kenya’s climate policies, carbon market regulations, the transparency of Koko’s business model, and diplomatic considerations. He ruled out the possibility of state intervention, stating that “even good doctors lose patients.”
Kenyan energy and treasury officials declined to comment on the closure, which energy analysts say exposes weaknesses in clean cooking financing in Africa. “The clean cooking situation in Kenya and across Africa is a serious crisis,” said Amos Wemanya, senior renewable energy analyst at Power Shift Africa. “It’s not just about emissions or climate targets. It’s about development, health, dignity, and household survival.”
Carbon credits compete with green energy. Mr. Wemanya said that models heavily reliant on carbon credits risk favoring markets at the expense of people. “We are not going to solve the clean cooking problem with carbon calculations or Excel spreadsheets about carbon credits,” he said. “Carbon markets allow polluters to continue emitting, while households, who are supposed to be the beneficiaries, continue to pay for cookstoves and bear the risks when projects fail.”
When these systems collapse, he added, it is households that suffer the most. “They are the ones forced to revert to harmful alternatives like charcoal and paraffin,” Mr. Wemanya said. He added that the Koko incident demonstrates that priority should be given to affordable electricity, especially in rural areas.
“Carbon credits won’t solve the clean cooking problem,” he said. “In fact, gas-based solutions have never been a long-term climate solution. They’ve simply shifted households from firewood to imported fossil fuels. So the lesson here is that we need to move towards systems that actually work, primarily electricity generated from renewable sources.”
For now, households like Auma's have to choose between going back to charcoal or finding the money to buy more expensive LPG. "What are we supposed to do? Go back to charcoal in our one-room houses?" asks Auma. "It's precisely the smoke and the illness we were trying to escape."
