A powerful investigation into how political influence, governance flaws, and constitutional questions are shaping the heated TSC teacher internship dispute in Kenya.
Kenya’s education sector is in turmoil once again — not only because of the strained relationship between teachers and policymakers, but due to deeper political undercurrents that now threaten to reshape the governance structure of independent institutions. At the centre of this storm is the controversial decision by the Teachers Service Commission (TSC) to extend the internship period for Junior School teachers from 12 to 24 months.
While the public conversation has largely focused on labour rights, the real battle unfolding is far more alarming: the creeping influence of political power over an institution that is constitutionally required to operate independently.
This political question took on new urgency after intern teacher Nehemiah Kipkorir filed a petition contesting the legality of the contract extension. His argument goes far beyond employment terms — he asserts that the decision may have been shaped by political directives rather than the Commission’s own independent judgment.
The basis of this claim is linked to President William Ruto’s public announcement last month, where he firmly stated that intern teachers would only transition to permanent terms after completing two full years on internship. The President framed the model as part of a strategy to manage teacher shortages and stabilise the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC).
But the Constitution tells a different story.
Under Article 249, constitutional commissions such as TSC must exercise independence and cannot be directed or controlled by any person or authority — including the Executive. If the internship extension was indeed influenced by a presidential directive, it raises a serious constitutional concern: Did TSC surrender its autonomy?
Governance experts argue that such interference — or even the appearance of it — weakens the entire structure of public service governance. Independent commissions were created to prevent political manipulation, protect merit-based hiring, and ensure fair labour practices. When political influence seeps into these bodies, the result is a slow erosion of professionalism, fairness, and transparency.
Critics believe this is exactly what is happening.
The Kenya Human Rights Commission has warned that extending the internship without proper stakeholder engagement violates Article 10 of the Constitution, which demands public participation in state decisions. The Commission argues that such unilateral decisions reflect a worrying pattern where technically sound policy-making is replaced by politically driven directives.
This governance breakdown becomes even more evident when examining how the extension affects the system. The decision was implemented at a time when Junior School is battling a severe teacher deficit. With over 72,000 additional teachers needed to meet the demands of CBC, interns have essentially become the backbone of the system. Their deployment has allowed the government to mask deep staffing gaps — a reality that some analysts say is politically convenient.
By keeping interns under short-term, low-cost contracts, the government avoids the fiscal and administrative burden of hiring thousands of permanent teachers. At the same time, the Executive can claim it is expanding education access without showing the full cost implications.
This creates what political scientists call a “governance paradox” — a scenario where the state benefits from the vulnerabilities of its own workforce while publicly presenting the decision as a reform.
For the interns, the political dimensions of the problem are becoming increasingly clear. Many teachers now believe the extension is not just an administrative decision but a political strategy to manage budget pressures while projecting an image of decisive leadership.
The Kenya Junior School Teachers Association (Kejusta) chairperson, James Odhiambo, has openly condemned the arrangement, calling it a “policy engineered to benefit the government, not teachers.” He argues that prolonging internships to two years gives politicians time to push staffing issues past election cycles, keeping employment promises at arm’s length.
This alignment of political goals and administrative decisions creates an environment where governance principles are overshadowed by expediency. It blurs the boundary between policy-making and political messaging — a dangerous mix in sectors as sensitive as education.
Beyond the labour and political debate lies the looming constitutional showdown. Kipkorir’s petition may become a landmark case. If the court establishes that political directives influenced TSC’s decision, it could force a national conversation on restoring commission independence. It may also set new limits on the Executive’s involvement in public service human resource policies.
Such a ruling could reshape governance in Kenya for decades.
For now, teachers remain the casualties of a system caught between law and politics. Their careers, incomes, and futures hang in the balance as the courts prepare to examine whether the internship extension was a policy decision, a political manoeuvre, or a constitutional violation.
As Kenya watches closely, one thing is becoming clear: the fight over the internship programme is no longer just about contract duration — it is about the future of governance, independence of commissions, and the integrity of public service institutions.
