Kenya is preparing to host a high-level Creative Economy Conference in partnership with the United States later this year, a move positioned as a catalyst for innovation and cultural exchange. But behind the official fanfare, questions remain about whether this initiative will truly uplift Kenyan creatives or serve as another soft-power handshake designed to favor foreign stakeholders.
The event, expected to bring together artists, industry professionals, and policymakers from both nations, is being described as a turning point for Kenya’s creative sector. The summit will focus on expanding opportunities in music, film, digital arts, and content creation, sectors that have seen significant grassroots growth across the country. However, the reality on the ground suggests that most of this growth has occurred in spite of — not because of — government support.
Kenyan youth have taken to digital platforms with remarkable ingenuity, building audiences across Africa and globally. Yet, many continue to struggle with systemic barriers: a lack of local infrastructure, predatory gatekeeping by middlemen, and legislative frameworks that fail to protect their intellectual property. As government officials talk of policy reform and economic transformation, creatives on the ground are more interested in tangible access to funding, fair distribution networks, and ownership over their art.
The conference comes in the wake of diplomatic discussions held during President William Ruto’s visit to the U.S. last year, with emphasis placed on strengthening economic ties through the creative industries. While such engagements often come wrapped in language about mutual benefit and empowerment, history tells a more complex story—one where African talent is too often commodified while local industries remain underdeveloped.
United States representatives have emphasized the potential for transatlantic collaboration and market expansion, citing America’s long-standing dominance in global entertainment. But there is a cautionary tale here. From film licensing to music streaming, Africa’s creative output frequently generates wealth for platforms based in the West, with little of that capital reinvested into African communities or talent ecosystems.
The upcoming conference promises workshops, roundtables, and networking opportunities with major players, including representatives from Hollywood and global tech platforms. Yet it is unclear how this will translate into long-term structural benefits for Kenyan creators. Without mechanisms to ensure equitable compensation, enforce copyright protections, and redistribute value locally, such gatherings risk becoming photo opportunities rather than game-changers.
At the heart of the matter is control—who shapes the narrative, who sets the terms, and who reaps the rewards. If this event is to serve as more than diplomatic theater, it must confront the structural inequities that define Africa’s relationship with the global creative economy. That means centering African creators not just as performers, but as producers, owners, and policy shapers.
Kenya’s creative community is watching with cautious optimism. There is energy and expectation, yes—but also fatigue. Many have attended countless forums, signed up for incubators, and pitched to empty rooms, only to return to the same cycle of exclusion. They are not asking for inspiration. They are demanding infrastructure, autonomy, and justice in an industry that continues to see them as labor, not leadership.
This upcoming conference has the potential to reframe the terms of engagement—if the focus shifts from polished speeches to concrete outcomes. If not, it will become yet another reminder that while Africa’s creativity is celebrated abroad, its creators remain sidelined at home.
