The winds of change blowing across Kenya’s education sector came to an abrupt stop this week after the High Court issued a powerful judgment that could reshape how the country treats its most marginalized learners.
In a packed courtroom in Marsabit, a hush fell as the judge delivered a ruling that sent shockwaves from the arid north to the corridors of power in Nairobi. The court declared the Cabinet’s decision to dissolve the National Council for Nomadic Education in Kenya (NACONEK) unconstitutional, discriminatory, and a direct assault on the rights of more than 1.5 million children who depend on the council’s programs.
A Government Directive Meets Fierce Resistance
The case, brought before the court by Dr. Chris Galgalo, challenged an executive directive issued under Executive Order No. 1 of 2023, part of a sweeping plan to rationalize state corporations. NACONEK had been listed among agencies marked for dissolution—a move the government justified as eliminating duplication within the Ministry of Education.
But for communities in the vast Arid and Semi-Arid Lands (ASALs), the announcement felt like a death knell. NACONEK is not just another agency. Created by Parliament in 2011, it is a lifeline—an institution designed explicitly to address the educational challenges of nomadic and pastoralist families who move with their livestock, battling drought, insecurity, and the harsh realities of life on the fringes of the state.
Mobile schools, alternative learning models, community facilitators, bursaries—NACONEK’s programs have long been the difference between a child walking into a classroom or slipping permanently out of the education system.
So when the Cabinet announced its intention to bury the council in January 2025, lawmakers from pastoralist regions erupted. Protests followed, statements flew, and the tension grew. And in the middle of it all, Dr. Galgalo turned to the courts.
Inside the Courtroom: A Battle for the Constitution
His argument was simple yet powerful: the Cabinet could not, by decree, snuff out a statutory body established by Parliament—especially not one serving Kenya’s most vulnerable children.
He warned that the move violated Article 43(1)(f) on the right to education, Article 53(1)(b) on children’s welfare, and Article 56, which compels the state to uplift minorities and marginalized groups.
The High Court agreed.
In a strongly worded judgment, the court found the Cabinet’s decision “discriminatory” and harmful to children who cannot simply transition into mainstream education structures. The judge stressed that nomadic communities face “unique challenges—mobility, cultural dynamics, insecurity, and environmental shocks”—barriers that NACONEK was created to address.
Crucially, the court underscored that no evidence had been provided to show that the Ministry of Education could effectively absorb NACONEK’s duties without causing massive disruption.
With that, the decision was struck down—null and void from the very beginning.
Celebrations Across ASAL Counties
Moments after the ruling, relief washed over supporters who had camped outside the courthouse. Dr. Galgalo, speaking with visible emotion, said:
“Today, justice has spoken for Kenya’s forgotten children. The ruling ensures that the dream of education for nomadic communities stays alive.”
Human rights groups and education advocates echoed his sentiments. Legal scholar Joshua Malidzo Nyawa called the judgment “a monumental victory for affirmative action and constitutionalism.”
What Happens Next?
The government now has 14 days to respond to the orders. While no appeal has been announced, insiders say the ruling adds pressure on the state to rethink its strategy on dissolving agencies without proper constitutional backing.
For now, NACONEK’s doors remain open. Its teachers continue trekking across dusty plains, its mobile classrooms continue rolling through remote villages, and thousands of children—who had feared being abandoned—can breathe a little easier tonight.
One thing is clear: this ruling is more than a legal triumph. It is a reminder that Kenya’s Constitution still has teeth—and its courts remain steadfast protectors of the nation’s most vulnerable.