Matatu heroes highlight Kenya’s emergency health shortfalls

A few weeks ago, in a moment that restored hope in humanity, a matatu crew from Rongai turned their vehicle into an ambulance—and themselves into heroes.

It began as an ordinary commute. Viola Nekesa was on board the loud matatu, headed to Rongai, when she suddenly began to struggle for breath. The situation escalated quickly. Passengers looked on helplessly, unsure of what to do. But driver Benson Kana and conductor Telvo didn’t hesitate. They diverted from their regular route and sped towards Nairobi West Hospital. There was no siren, no official emergency tag—just urgency, empathy, and raw human instinct.

What could have ended in tragedy became a heartwarming tale of selflessness and quick thinking. Viola later took to social media to recount the ordeal and praise the men who saved her life. In a country where the matatu industry is often painted with a negative brush, this story stood out like a bright light in a dark tunnel.

But behind this feel-good moment lies a much bigger, unresolved issue—the missing link in Kenya’s healthcare system: emergency care.

A system built to react, not respond

Just days after Viola’s story made the rounds, another headline emerged—this time, devastating. A former journalist was found dead after his relatives failed to reach him. Details remain unclear, but preliminary reports suggest a hit-and-run accident. It's suspected he was rushed to a hospital, but it was too late. There was no Telvo. No audiophile crew. Just silence, confusion, and loss.

Such stories—whether ending in hope or heartbreak—expose a painful truth. Emergency care in Kenya remains fragmented, underfunded, and dangerously inaccessible. In a country of over 50 million people, what do you do when the unthinkable happens and there’s no system designed to catch you in time?

Emergency care: The silent crisis in UHC

Universal Health Coverage (UHC) is one of Kenya’s key health goals, and rightly so. But it is incomplete without robust emergency care. Health emergencies don’t wait for appointment slots. They happen in traffic jams, on dusty roads, in schools and markets. They need swift response, accurate coordination, and real-time data.

The Constitution of Kenya, under Article 43, guarantees every citizen the right to the highest attainable standard of health—including emergency medical treatment. This is not a favor; it's a legal promise.

Encouragingly, the Social Health Authority (SHA) has begun laying the groundwork for more equitable care. Through the Emergency, Chronic, and Critical Illness Fund (ECCIF)—financed directly by the government—funds have been earmarked for precisely these scenarios. But money alone is not enough. Without a working emergency infrastructure, funds cannot reach those in need fast enough.

Building a 911 that works for Kenya

Emergency care must be about more than ambulances. It’s about a centralized system that links the scene of an incident to the right facility with the right capacity. It’s about trained personnel, real-time updates, patient data sharing, and coordinated transfers. A working ‘911’ system—Kenya-style.

This is where partnerships come in. The government cannot do it alone. And thankfully, it doesn’t have to.

Organizations like St John Ambulance and AMREF have long filled critical gaps. But there’s a model that stands out—Rescue.co. Operating in Nairobi and beyond, Rescue.co has shattered records by reducing emergency response times from the estimated African average of 162 minutes to under 8 minutes—and in some areas, under 2 minutes.

This kind of response is what saved Viola. She was lucky. Many Kenyans aren’t.

From Good Samaritans to systems that save lives

Emergency care cannot rely on chance or heroism alone. We applaud the courage of people like Benson and Telvo, but they are not the system—they are a stopgap.

What we need is predictability. We need to know that when something goes wrong, someone is coming. Not by luck, not because they happened to be nearby—but because a system that works was activated.

Let’s not wait for another hashtag

The matatu that became an ambulance gave us a glimpse of who we are at our best—compassionate, brave, and responsive. But our health system should not depend on hope and happenstance. It must be ready. It must be built for speed, scale, and coordination.

As Kenya continues to implement UHC and strengthen SHA, let us not forget that life-saving interventions begin long before a patient enters the hospital door. The streets must be connected to the system.

Because when seconds matter, we must make every single one count.