MISPLACED ANGER: Understanding why the Gen Zs are turning their anger toward their fellow citizens

By Jaymo Wa Thika,

Even though the recent wave of youth-led protests is rooted in genuine frustration over poor governance and economic inequality, the sequence of events has taken a deeply troubling turn.

The scenes of looted businesses, private property being torched and innocent citizens being molested or robbed by protesters is really troubling. We have found ourselves at a crossroads.

The destruction of private property, attacks on fellow citizens, and the growing hostility toward fellow citizens, many of whom come from the same struggling communities, raise a painful question: Why are the youth turning their anger on their own?

Experts point to a psychological phenomenon known as displaced aggression, where frustration with a powerful but unreachable target (like the state or political elite) is redirected toward those within arm’s reach: neighbours, shop owners, small businesses, even fellow protesters.

“When people feel powerless or unheard, they lash out at whatever they can control,” explains Dr. Chris Hart, a Nairobi-based psychologist.

In the chaos of protest, symbols of relative stability, like shops or middle-class vehicles etc, become stand-ins for systemic failure. The youth are not attacking their neighbours; they’re expressing rage at a future stolen by corruption, broken promises, and chronic joblessness.

The differences between the rich and the poor in Kenya is not just financial, it’s emotional. Youth scroll through social media feeds filled with luxury while sitting jobless in under-resourced towns. The pain of exclusion runs deep.

This fuels a state known as learned helplessness, where people, especially the youth, feel that nothing they do will change their situation. When that helplessness festers, it often erupts into blind, sometimes self-destructive, anger.

Psychiatrist Dr. Lukoye Atwoli describes this as “visual inequality”, a constant reminder of what they don’t have, creating chronic resentment.

Though their actions may appear chaotic, the youth are sending a message—a desperate, unfiltered one: “We are suffering. No one is listening. You will hear us now.”

Emotional triggers like humiliation or invisibility often outweigh clear political goals in mass protests. In this case, the torching of shops or clashing with police isn’t just about politics; it’s a scream for recognition and dignity.

The Civilians vs The Police

Perhaps the most heartbreaking dimension, is the hostility between protesters and police—both drawn from the same society, often the same neighbourhoods. This is what trauma experts call moral injury, when individuals are forced into roles that betray their own values.

This isn’t simply a law-and-order issue. Kenya is facing a deep mental and emotional crisis among its youth. Years of economic exclusion, lack of meaningful civic engagement and a culture of broken trust have left a generation angry, anxious and unheard. And unless the root causes are addressed, not just policed, condemned or suppressed, we risk replaying this destructive cycle again and again.

Many police officers feel trapped in a system that pits them against their own people. Protesters feel equally betrayed by officers tasked with protecting them, now wielding batons and bullets.

Rejected and Despised

Many young people feel betrayed. Jobs are hard to find. Education doesn’t guarantee success. Prices are rising. Corruption is everywhere.

Meanwhile, some people are living large and showing off their riches. It feels like the system is rigged and no one is listening. This kind of frustration builds up over time until it explodes in ways that don’t always make sense.

The Bigger Picture

If we keep ignoring the pain of the youth, we’ll keep seeing this violence. Let’s not just ask “Why are they burning?” Let’s ask “Why are they hurting?” Because when young people feel heard, they don’t throw stones. They build dreams.

If our youth see their only voice in stones and fire, then we as a nation have failed to provide them with a better language of hope.

This moment calls for more than condemnation. It calls for understanding, for leadership that listens, and for a society that can finally say to its young people: “We see you. We hear you. We will act.”

This is not just a political problem. It’s a psychosocial crisis, a generation feeling robbed of its future and using the only language it feels will get attention: rage.

Unless that rage is understood and addressed at its roots and not just condemned or suppressed, it will keep returning, and get more destructively each time.