KOKO Networks’ message to customers on January 31 arrived without warning, but for many, the ending began four months ago.
“Samahani [Sorry] KOKO customer, we regret to inform you KOKO is closing operations today. We will share the next steps soon. Asante [Thank you] for being a part of this journey,” the company wrote.
For the over 1.5 million households across Kenya, that brief text message marked the sudden end of what had become their cooking fuel.
Since late November 2025, customers have received apologies and assurances that fuel would be available soon. But last Saturday was the final.
Agents who ran KOKO’s refilling points got a similar note: “We regret to share that due to unavoidable circumstances, KOKO will shut down from today. Thank you for your partnership.”
While a significant number of families, especially in informal settlements, built their daily routines around KOKO’s pay-as-you-go bioethanol fuel, many were already switching to alternatives such as LPG, kerosene, and charcoal due to service interruptions.
Supply issues
The shutdown followed nearly three months of growing supply disruptions linked to a biofuels shortage, according to social media reports and people who spoke to . In December, long queues were a familiar sight outside KOKO refill stations in some Nairobi estates, such as Mathare, where the clean-cooking startup was popular.
A spot check by in Athi River, Mlolongo, and Kitengela — satellite towns about 20 kilometres east of Nairobi — confirmed refillers went for weeks, sometimes nearly two months, without a consistent ethanol supply.
“It used to be very reliable,” said Stephen Museu, an attendant at Victory Shops, one of KOKO’s refilling partners. “From late October, the delays started as people waited, then they stopped coming.”
Five attendants at Msafiri, Wellsprings Home Supplies, and Wa Faith MaliMali & Shop told that supply had been irregular for almost three months.
For shops that relied on KOKO foot traffic, the shutdown is also a blow to income. Many told they are uncertain whether “next steps” will include compensation, alternative products, or nothing at all.
Kenya’s climate ambitions
KOKO’s shutdown exposes a vulnerability in Kenya’s clean-cooking transition.
The push for alternative cooking fuels has been tied to climate finance and carbon credits, which reward companies for helping households move away from polluting fuels. Those credits are meant to subsidise cheaper fuel for consumers while attracting private investment.
But the system depends on steady financing, global carbon markets, and investor confidence—forces far removed from the kitchens of Kitengela. When funding tightens or supply chains break, households are left exposed.
There is no cheaper fallback for clean cooking for most families. When the fuel stopped, customers like Ruth Mbula, a trader at Mlolongo, had to absorb the shock on their own.
“I must cook,” Mbula said. “I have a small gas cylinder, and for things that require long cooking, I can buy charcoal.”
Thou shalt eat
KOKO was seen as proof that private capital and technology could accelerate the shift to clean cooking in Africa. The company’s woes reveal how difficult that progress can be when left to private companies.
It positioned itself as more than a startup; it was a public-health and climate solution wrapped in fintech convenience. Founded in 2013 by Greg Murray to combat deforestation driven by the widespread use of charcoal, the startup has raised more than $100 million in debt and equity financing from investors like Verod-Kepple, South Africa’s Rand Merchant Bank, Mirova, and Microsoft Climate Innovation Fund.
Its smart meters allowed customers to buy fuel in small daily amounts, as low as KES 50 ($0.39), making clean cooking accessible to households that could not afford full LPG cylinders.
A 6kg LPG refill costs KES 1,100 ($8.53) in most outlets, while a 13kg refill is KES 3,000 ($23.25), excluding the cost of a cylinder and burner. Charcoal and kerosene are the cheapest options, sold in small amounts and available everywhere. But they are dirtier and often more expensive over time.
In many Nairobi neighbourhoods, a household can spend KES 90 ($0.7) daily on charcoal—equivalent to KES 2,700 ($20.93) monthly—while risking higher health costs from indoor smoke.
Electric cooking works for a small minority with stable power and appliances. Other ethanol suppliers exist, but none operate at KOKO’s scale or with its pay-as-you-go technology. Switching could force users to buy new cookstoves or travel farther—costs many households cannot manage.
Refillers say customers are improvising, mixing fuels depending on cash and availability. It keeps food on the table, but erodes the certainty KOKO offered.
