By Televisions Prime Time Review Team
The NEW YEAR began with tragedies as a surge of deadly road accidents devastated families across Kenya. Media houses including Citizen TV, TV47, KTN, NTV and KBC brought these heartbreaking events into our homes, sharing survivor stories, eyewitness accounts, and haunting images of lives cut far too short. From the crash at Karai along the Nairobi–Nakuru highway to the collision near Fort Ternan in Kericho, these incidents were part of a wider crisis that claimed at least 31 lives in the first week of 2026 alone, according to the National Police Service.
For far too long, we have grown used to these stories. Another crash. Another headline. Another number added to the tally. We shake our heads, whisper “it is sad,” and move on. But for the families left behind, life does not move on. A seat at the table remains empty. A phone that will never ring is still checked every evening. Children fall asleep waiting for footsteps that will never reach the door.
This is how road deaths became “normal.” And that is the danger. The media must do more than count the dead; it must ask the harder questions: Why do these tragedies keep happening? What is failing, and who is responsible?
The media has the power to shift how we see this crisis. Road fatalities should be treated with the same urgency as cholera epidemics or the COVID-19 pandemic. Through sustained coverage, expert analysis, and persistent questioning of those in authority, journalists can show that these deaths are not inevitable but preventable.
Speeding kills. It’s mentioned in almost every crash report yet rarely explained. The media should go deeper not just say “overspeeding caused the crash,” but show why speed turns mistakes into tragedies. Let experts illustrate how a minor error at 60 km/h might be survivable, but the same mistake at 120 km/h can be fatal.
Drunk driving must also be told through real voices: emergency doctors who fight to save broken bodies, police officers arriving while engines are still hot, families burying loved ones because someone chose alcohol over responsibility.
Then there is the silent killer: lack of protection. Doctors say helmets reduce fatal head injuries by more than half, but many boda boda riders ride bareheaded. Seatbelts save lives, yet in our matatus, our beloved nganyas, many do not work, and many passengers do not bother to wear them. Ask yourself: When was the last time a conductor told you to fasten your seatbelt? When was the last time you demanded one?
Images of mangled vehicles, with experts showing how a seatbelt or helmet could have saved lives, make safety real. The difference between going home and being carried home.
We speak fondly of the Michuki Rules, but where did that discipline go? Why did safety die with the man who enforced it? These are questions the media must keep asking loudly.
Then there is the corruption we all pretend not to see. The 50 bob, the 100 bob, small money handed to traffic officers so a matatu can pass, even when its brakes are weak or tyres bald. Drivers say it openly: “If you don’t give, you won’t work today.” Yes, some rogue officers have been arrested, but the business is still booming. Every unroadworthy vehicle allowed to move becomes a moving coffin.
This is no minor issue. It is deadly. The media must treat it as such, using investigative journalism not once, but continuously, shining a relentless spotlight until the system is forced to change.
Still, facts alone will never be enough. People forget numbers, but they remember faces. A mother holding her son’s last photo. A man learning to walk again after losing his legs. These stories stay in the heart and make road safety personal. When journalists tell these stories before the crash, during recovery, after the funeral they turn statistics into human beings. And human beings change behaviour.
The media must also look beyond drivers to the roads themselves. Some intersections are death traps. Some schools have no crossings. Some highways have no signs. Some towns disappear into darkness at night. Using experts, journalists can show how bad design kills. When these dangers are exposed, leaders are pressured to fix them.
Law matters too. Weak penalties, fake licenses, unsafe imported vehicles, poorly regulated public transport all feed the crisis. Investigative reporting can compare our laws to safer countries and ask why Kenyan lives seem cheaper.
And laws mean nothing if they are not enforced. Are speed governors working? Are checks done honestly? Do offenders face justice? Or do files disappear and cases die quietly? The media must also question those in charge: Cabinet Secretaries, regulators, agencies. Are they acting before people die, or only after tragedy? Why are black spots marked after bodies pile up? Why are danger signs installed after mourning?
We talk about becoming like Singapore, but no developed nation accepts this level of blood on its roads. In the end, road safety belongs to all of us. Drivers must slow down. Owners must maintain vehicles. Government must build safe roads. Police must enforce the law honestly. Courts must punish fairly. Citizens must speak up. And the media must never allow death to become normal. Because when road deaths are treated as preventable, unacceptable, and urgent, lives are saved. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Today.
