The roll-out of the new curriculum has brought a wave of emotions across the country. For some, it’s a welcome relief from the relentless chase for top academic performance. For school principals, however, the absence of Form One admissions is a bitter pill to swallow. A once-thriving enterprise, veiled in the guise of education, now faces an uncertain future.

Over the years, Form One admissions have been a harrowing experience for parents without deep pockets. The tradition of demanding full first-term fees before admission became an unspoken law. Parents unable to meet this hefty requirement were often sent home with their children, their pleas dismissed with warnings about the high demand for Form One slots.
But beyond the issue of fees, a more troubling narrative unfolds—a web of graft that has thrived within the admission process.
The Uniform Racket
School uniforms, mandatory for every new student, have been a gold mine for principals. Parents were often compelled to buy these uniforms directly from the schools, despite their inflated prices and subpar quality. Behind the scenes, uniform suppliers reportedly offered principals kickbacks. Schools with additional items like branded tracksuits saw even greater profit margins.
The Bed Sheet Scheme
In the name of “uniformity,” schools also provided bed sheets during admission. Parents were left with no choice but to purchase these overpriced items, further padding the pockets of administrators.
Exercise Books: A Hidden Profit Center
Form One students were required to bring stacks of A4 exercise books—20 books of 200 pages each—despite government capitation covering instructional materials. These books, often unnecessary in such large quantities, became another revenue stream. Principals reportedly logged them as part of government capitation while quietly redirecting the funds elsewhere.
The School Bus Loan Ruse
Even the school bus—a symbol of pride for many institutions—has been entangled in controversy. Form Ones were often charged a “bus loan fee,” even when the loan had already been paid off or when the bus was a donation. In such cases, the fee was conveniently renamed as “bus maintenance.”
The Branding Tax
Schools imposed additional charges for branding uniforms, boxes, and other personal items, citing theft prevention. While branding may have served its purpose, the added costs only enriched administrators.
The Development Fund Mystery
Infrastructural challenges became a justification for yet another levy: the development fund. Parents were charged amounts as high as Ksh. 10,000 during admission, often in cash and without formal receipts. These funds, lacking transparency, left many wondering about their true purpose.
Merchandising Admission Letters
In some cases, principals capitalized on government placements by charging “commitment fees” to secure spots in prestigious schools. This practice turned admission letters into a commodity for sale, further burdening parents.
Motivation and Foolscap Fees
Motivation fees, supposedly for teacher incentives, became another mandatory expense for Form Ones. Similarly, the requirement for reams of foolscap paper created an oversupply, with surplus stock sold to bookshops at discounted rates—profitably recycling parents’ money.
Parents Ambushed at the Desk
What made the process even more frustrating was the lack of transparency. Many of these levies were not mentioned in admission letters, blindsiding parents at the admission desk. Frantic phone calls and last-minute loans became the norm for families desperate to secure their children’s education.
This year, with no Form One admissions due to the curriculum shift, principals face an uncertain financial future. Some parents fear that these hidden levies might now be transferred to current Form Two, Three, and Four students.

While education should empower and uplift, the exploitation of parents through hidden charges has left many disillusioned. As the education sector evolves, the government must ensure accountability and transparency, rooting out the culture of profiteering in schools. For now, principals must return to the drawing board, navigating a system where education serves learners—not as a business venture, but as a public good.

