On the morning of 13 November 2023, Kenya’s plains, hills, and forests awakened with the sound of shovels digging into earth. Across the country, school children, farmers, civil servants, and community groups incubated saplings in their arms, their fingers brushing loam.
This was no ordinary weekday: for this was the first National Tree Growing Day, a new public holiday decreed by the government and dedicated to planting trees.
The announcement came quietly but carried profound meaning. On November 13, a Monday, Kenya’s government introduced a special national holiday dedicated to environmental restoration.
Citizens across the nation were encouraged to take part by planting trees, turning a simple act of care for the planet into a collective expression of national pride and commitment to the climate cause. At a stroke, Kenya became the first nation to convert tree planting into a full national holiday.
The ambition was grand: plant 15 billion trees by 2032, to change Kenya’s forest cover from about 7 percent toward double digits. Government funding of more than USD 80 million was allocated in the first year, and for many, the holiday was a hopeful signal that boldness was back in climate policy.
The First Leaf Of A National Campaign
On that first tree-growing day, the government claimed to have made available 150 million seedlings for Kenyans to plant. While some reports suggest that fewer were actually planted, the symbolism held weight: a nation was pledging to recalibrate its relationship with its land. The newly launched JazaMiti (“fill the trees”) app tracked registered planting efforts across counties.
And this was only the beginning. Kenya went on to declare a second National Tree Growing Day on 10 May 2024, mobilizing a goal of one billion trees in one day.
Meanwhile, civil society and environmental groups continued their work. For instance, in May 2024, volunteers in coastal Mombasa helped plant 1,000 mangrove trees in support of the national campaign.
From Mandate To Everyday Soil: Mazingira Day 2025
By 2025, Kenya’s tree-planting effort had matured—and reframed. The celebration now took place on Mazingira Day (10 October), a public holiday anchored in environmental stewardship. The Ministry of Environment, Climate Change and Forestry and the Education Ministry partnered to emphasize planting fruit trees in school compounds—trees that provide shade, nutrition, and hope.
This morning, more than 35,000 schools were asked to each plant at least 2,000 fruit trees. Learners would carry seedlings home, alumni would rally to support, and ministers would plant in their former schools to lead by example.
Environment Cabinet Secretary Deborah Barasa urged Kenyans to treat tree planting as a lifelong commitment, not a one-day gesture. “Mazingira Day is about more than planting trees. It is about growing a culture of care, reconnecting with our roots, and giving back to our communities,” she said.
Soil, Community, And The Fragile Junction Between Hope And Risk
In Meru County’s Upper Imenti forest, the National Tree Growing Day first took root. Over 200,000 trees were planted at Kithoka Beat, on land stewarded by the Meru Forest Environmental Conservation & Protection group (MEFECAP). Local farmers who had grown seedlings earned modest income—reminding us that reforestation is as much economic transformation as ecological.
Still, the scheme is not uncontroversial. Media voices caution that planting for optics carries risk. A columnist in Nation urged Kenyans to stop planting trees for the camera.
In some regions, past initiatives to plant tree species ill-suited to climate or soil have backfired. One of the most infamous examples is mathenge (Prosopis juliflora), introduced decades ago to reverse desertification but now known to dominate landscapes, choke native species, and stress water tables.
A Guardian investigation in 2025 portrayed it as a “toxic, thorny nightmare” in parts of Kenya, threatening ecosystems and pastoralist livelihoods. The challenge is not simply to plant trees—but to plant the right trees, in the right places, and to nurture them over time.
Many experts emphasize that reforestation success lies in aftercare—watering, protection from livestock, tending, and replacing failed saplings. Kenya is a country familiar with struggle: drought, erratic rain, land pressure, and shifting livelihoods. The dream of 15 billion trees hangs in the balance of patience, persistence, and community ownership.
A Quiet Revolution, One Seedling At A Time
Kenya’s tree-growing holiday may seem small in the sweep of global climate challenges—but it is expansive as a moral gesture. Declaring an official public holiday to restore nature speaks a different language than laws or pledges alone.
The choice of schools as planting hubs is intentional: children grow roots with trees, alumni re-engage with places that shaped them, and neighborhoods transform. Fruit trees bring food, shade, and a living connection to ecosystems. Kenya’s commitment is not limited to biomass—it seeks soil, livelihood, identity.
While mathenge’s specter reminds us that well-intentioned policies can misstep, the national drive has spurred new conversations: Which species? Who monitors? Who cares? Who owns the land? Local communities, forest agencies, civil society, and national leaders share responsibility.
In this, Kenya may not be a perfect model—but it offers something rare: a nation willing to pause ordinary life and turn hands to the earth.
So when, in November or October years ahead, you see Kenyans gathering in fields or along riverbanks with seedlings in soil-stained hands, know that those gestures are tethered to an audacious ambition: to unmake degradation, to grow roots of responsibility, and to hand a greener future to coming generations.
As the saplings stretch upward, so too might a new collective story: one where nations declare not just holidays, but hope.
