Kenya, March 31 -- As Kenya's Social Health Authority (SHA) continues to stir public discourse, a striking comparison has emerged, likening the government's flagship healthcare program to a betting platform.
The analogy, notably voiced by commentator Robert Kiberenge on NTV's Fixing the Nation on March 31, 2025, and echoed across social media, underscores perceived parallels between SHA's operational model and the mechanics of gambling.
With Health Cabinet Secretary Aden Duale defending SHA as a historic achievement and Nandi Governor Stephen Sang recently holding a fundraiser to offset a resident's medical bills, the comparison raises questions about equity, reliability, and outcomes in Kenya's healthcare system.
The notion that "SHA today behaves like a betting company-many pay but few benefit," as Kiberenge put it, has ignited discussions about structural similarities between SHA and betting platforms.
Here's a detailed breakdown of the parallels drawing attention:
SHA requires all Kenyan households to contribute a mandatory 2.75% of their income annually, akin to how bettors place stakes on platforms like SportPesa or Betika.
In both cases, participants commit funds upfront with no guarantee of immediate or proportional returns. For SHA, salaried workers see deductions directly from their paychecks, while informal sector workers must register and pay a minimum of Ksh 300 monthly.
Similarly, betting platforms collect wagers from millions, with payouts reserved for a select few winners.
Just as betting offers no assurance of winning, critics argue that SHA's benefits are uncertain for many contributors. Despite enrollment, patients have reported being turned away from facilities or incurring out-of-pocket costs due to delays in claims processing or gaps in coverage.
Netizens reflect this frustration, with one user stating, "You pay SHA every month, but when you're sick, it's a gamble if you'll get treated." In betting, the odds determine success; in SHA, operational hiccups and resource constraints appear to dictate who receives timely care.
SHA aims to pool funds from Kenya's 12 million households to finance healthcare for all, yet only a fraction of contributors reportedly access adequate services.
This mirrors betting platforms, where millions wager daily-Kenyans spent $1.3 billion on SportPesa alone in 2018, per Finance Uncovered-but only a small percentage claim substantial winnings.
The Nandi fundraiser, led by Governor Sang on March 30, 2025, to clear a resident's medical bills despite SHA enrollment, exemplifies this disparity, suggesting that even in a "covered" system, benefits aren't guaranteed.
Betting companies thrive on collecting more in stakes than they pay out, retaining a profit margin.
Critics allege SHA operates similarly, with the government collecting billions-Ksh 9 billion was injected in October 2024 to settle NHIF debts-but failing to deliver commensurate services.
Duale's revelation that he personally contributes Ksh 50,000 monthly to bolster SHA has fueled speculation that the system relies on goodwill and patchwork funding rather than a self-sustaining model, much like how betting firms entice users with bonuses to keep them engaged.
In betting, participants accept high risk for the chance of a big reward. SHA contributors, however, face a different imbalance: they bear the risk of financial contribution without assurance of healthcare access when needed.
The comparison gained traction after reports of patients resorting to harambees-community fundraisers-despite SHA's promise of free treatment, a scenario reminiscent of bettors chasing losses after an unlucky streak.
The analogy surfaced amid mounting pressure on SHA, launched in October 2024 to replace the National Hospital Insurance Fund (NHIF).
Billed as a cornerstone of President William Ruto's Universal Health Coverage agenda, SHA has faced logistical challenges, including hospital rejections of SHA cards and a rocky transition from NHIF.
Duale's March 27 assertion that SHA is Kenya's greatest healthcare project, backed by his personal financial commitment, contrasts sharply with grassroots realities, such as Sang's fundraiser in Nandi, a region central to Ruto's political base.
Simon Kigondu, a SHA contributor, says, "SHA is a health betting option. It is the best description of SHA SHIF thus far."
The sentiment taps into broader disillusionment with government programs promising universal benefits but delivering uneven results, a critique often levelled at betting firms that profit while most participants lose.
The SHA-betting parallel is not without nuance. Betting is a voluntary gamble driven by entertainment or profit motives, whereas SHA is a compulsory social insurance scheme aimed at equity.
Yet, the comparison highlights a shared perception of opacity and inequity. Betting platforms disclose odds, however slim; SHA's operational transparency, such as how funds are allocated or why some patients still pay, remains unclear, fostering distrust.
For proponents like Duale, SHA's teething problems are temporary, with a 90-day claims processing goal and county-level support in progress.
Critics, however, see the betting analogy as a call to action, urging reforms to ensure contributions translate to reliable care, not a roll of the dice.
SHA does not have an option for cashout and look for another medical insurance scheme, some betting platforms have and can let you cash out your bet. Starting a betting platform does not require Sh 104 Billion, unlike SHA.
Published by HT Digital Content Services with permission from Bana Kenya.