KMTC Graduates: From Healthcare Heroes to Underemployed Youth
KMTC graduates — once viewed as Kenya’s frontline health heroes — are quietly joining the country’s growing army of the underemployed. Across Nairobi, Kisumu, and Makueni, young men and women who studied medicine, nursing, and pharmacy at the prestigious Kenya Medical Training College (KMTC) are now selling chapatis, eggs, or running boda boda businesses. It’s a troubling paradox for a country that spends billions of shillings expanding medical training institutions every year, yet overlooks the fate of the graduates who walk out of their gates.
Behind the neat white coats and confident graduation photos lies a story rarely told: Kenya is building world-class medical colleges but neglecting to build the careers of those it trains. The result is an oversupply of health workers without matching employment opportunities — a silent crisis that is slowly eroding the dream of youth empowerment through technical education.
At the bustling Umoja market in Nairobi, 26-year-old Esther — a clinical officer trained at KMTC Nairobi Campus — flips chapatis for a living. “I graduated in 2021 with distinction,” she says, wiping her hands on a flour-stained apron. “But I’ve never been posted. I applied to several counties, but there are no openings. I had to survive, so I started this food stall.” For Esther and hundreds of her peers, the dream of serving in hospitals has faded into the scent of frying oil and daily survival.
Kenya currently boasts over 70 KMTC campuses spread across the country, with an estimated enrollment of 40,000 students annually. Each year, thousands graduate with diplomas in medical laboratory technology, nursing, community health, and pharmacy. Yet, according to the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS), the majority of diploma holders in medical fields now remain unemployed for more than two years after graduation. County governments cite inadequate budgets, while the national government claims absorption depends on local hiring priorities.
Healthcare experts argue that the mismatch stems from poor coordination between KMTC’s training output and the national human resource needs assessment. “We have more institutions than jobs,” notes a senior official in the Ministry of Health who requested anonymity. “The system focuses on training supply, not demand. It’s politically appealing to open new campuses, but no one is tracking how many graduates are absorbed.”
Some counties have taken advantage of the surplus of medical graduates by engaging them as unpaid volunteers for extended periods. In other cases, new graduates are forced to pay to access internship opportunities in private facilities — a disturbing trend that turns professional development into a privilege. “It’s disheartening,” says Brian, a former pharmacy student now operating a boda boda business in Kisumu. “I’ve treated patients during training, but now I can’t get a license renewal because I’m not practicing. I feel like I studied for nothing.”
Ironically, Kenya continues to import specialist nurses and technicians from abroad through World Health Organization (WHO) partnerships while thousands of its own lie idle. Health economists suggest that redirecting even a fraction of KMTC’s annual expansion budget toward graduate placement programs could make a significant difference. Structured internships, healthcare entrepreneurship loans, and partnerships with private hospitals could bridge the gap between training and employment.
Critics argue that the government’s focus on infrastructure rather than people reflects a deeper governance issue. “Every new KMTC campus is a political statement — a ribbon-cutting moment,” says a policy analyst from the Institute of Economic Affairs. “But what we need is policy continuity that supports graduates, not buildings. We must invest in the transition from education to employment.”
Some success stories do exist. A small group of KMTC graduates in Makueni County have formed a cooperative running mobile health clinics, offering immunizations and first aid services to remote villages. Others have ventured into health consultancy, nutrition startups, and pharmaceutical delivery businesses. These examples show that with the right support, unemployed graduates could still contribute meaningfully to Kenya’s health ecosystem.
But these isolated stories of innovation cannot mask the underlying problem: an institutional model designed to produce more graduates than the market can absorb. Without urgent reforms, Kenya risks training health workers for export or, worse, wasting national resources on talent that ends up underemployed. In the long run, this disillusionment could deter future students from pursuing medical careers altogether.
As the country pushes toward universal healthcare coverage, it must rethink its approach to medical human resources. Instead of expanding campuses endlessly, the government should audit existing facilities, align training with actual county demand, and invest in community health entrepreneurship. Kenya’s youth deserve more than paper certificates; they deserve pathways to serve, grow, and sustain themselves.
Esther, the chapati vendor with a medical diploma, puts it simply: “We are not lazy. We are trained to help. But the system forgot about us.” Her words capture the silent heartbreak of a generation that believed education was the key, only to find the door still locked.
In the end, Kenya’s investment in KMTC will only pay off if it begins to invest in its graduates — not just in buildings, but in livelihoods. Otherwise, the chapati stalls and motorbikes run by medical professionals will remain Kenya’s most painful reminder that opportunity, not education, is the real cure for unemployment.
“We are building institutions faster than we are building futures — and the graduates are paying the price.”
This article was prepared by the Ramsey Focus Analysis Desk, drawing from interviews with KMTC graduates in Nairobi, Kisumu, and Makueni, as well as Ministry of Health data and independent research on Kenya’s healthcare labor market.
