In a heart-wrenching saga that exposes the brutal underbelly of Kenya’s healthcare financing, a family in Embakasi East is tonight pleading for the dignity of a final farewell for their son, Joel, whose body remains detained over a crippling KSh 3.5 million hospital bill.

Joel’s life was a testament to resilience. Born with spina bifida, a congenital spine condition, he fought battles most of us can barely imagine. But it was a cruel diagnosis of pelvic cancer that finally claimed his life on December 31, 2025. Now, instead of grieving, his father, Jonathan Metet, is forced to beg strangers for help, trapped in a bureaucratic nightmare at the Kenyatta University Teaching, Referral & Research Hospital (KUTRH).

A Bill That Keeps Growing

"We have paid what we could," a tearful Metet told reporters outside the family's modest home. The initial bill stood at a staggering KSh 4.7 million. The Social Health Authority (SHA) covered KSh 700,000, and the family scraped together KSh 189,000. But the balance of KSh 3.7 million remains a mountain they cannot climb.

To make matters worse, the meter is still running. Every day Joel’s body lies in the morgue, the bill swells, pushing the finish line further away. It is a cruel irony: the cost of dying in Kenya is rapidly becoming as unaffordable as the cost of living.

• Systemic Failure: Joel’s case highlights the gaps in our Universal Health Coverage (UHC) dreams. Despite the SHA contribution, the out-of-pocket expenditure for chronic illnesses like cancer remains catastrophic for ordinary households. A KSh 3.5 million bill is a lifetime of earnings for the average Embakasi resident.
• A Father's Plea: Jonathan Metet has knocked on every door—the National Council for Persons with Disabilities (NCPWD), local leaders, and hospital social workers—but the response has been silence. "I just want to bury my son," he says. "Is that too much to ask?"

The Community's Duty

This is not just Joel’s story; it is a mirror held up to our society. In a country where politicians flaunt millions at weekend fundraisers, a father should not have to trade his dignity to bury his disabled son. The "Harambee" spirit, once our greatest safety net, is being tested.

The family is appealing to well-wishers to help them close this painful chapter. They are not asking for luxury; they are asking for the basic human right to lay their loved one to rest. As the sun sets over Embakasi, Joel’s body lies cold and alone, a hostage to a ledger, waiting for the compassion of Kenyans to set him free.