Delivering Safe Patient Care during Kenya’s Health System Transition

09.04.26 04:46 AM

When does emergency medical care start?

Kenya’s health system is passing through a period of transition that is legal, financial, operational, and deeply human all at once. At one level, the debate may appear to be about policy design, court decisions, financing structures, and administrative reform. At the bedside, however, the issue is immediate and practical. Can safe patient care still be delivered consistently while the system around it is still settling into shape?


This question is not new in international law. It is rooted in Article 12 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, which recognises the right of everyone to the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health. Article 12 is not a promise of perfect health. It is a commitment that States will organise their systems in a way that makes health realistically attainable. Through the AAAQ framework of availability, accessibility, acceptability, and quality, it sets an operational benchmark for how health systems should function. When viewed through this lens, Kenya’s current transition raises a precise concern. Are we progressively realising the right to health, or are administrative processes—however temporary—beginning to erode accessibility and continuity of care? The Constitution of Kenya translates this international commitment into binding domestic law. Article 43(1)(a) guarantees the right to the highest attainable standard of health. Article 43(2) sharpens this further: no person shall be denied emergency medical treatment. The difficulty lies not in the existence of these rights, but in their application.


Health financing is not peripheral. It is one of the structures through which Article 12 is realised in practice. When financing systems falter, through delayed authorisations, unclear coverage, or opaque administrative decisions they do not merely inconvenience but they interfere with accessibility. And once accessibility is compromised, the right itself begins to thin out in practice. 


This is where the recent discussion on dialysis becomes particularly instructive as recently discussed by the chair on the Kenya Renal Association in the Star Newspaper (https://www.the-star.co.ke/opinion/star-blogs/2026-04-06-opinion-when-paperwork-becomes-a-death-sentence-the-hidden-crisis-in-kenyas-dialysis-care). Dialysis is often not framed as an “emergency” in the conventional, dramatic sense. There is no sudden collapse in the waiting room, no immediate resuscitation scenario. Yet this framing is clinically misleading and legally incomplete. Dialysis is time-bound, repetitive, and physiologically unforgiving. A missed session may not produce instant catastrophe, but it sets in motion a predictable deterioration of fluid overload, electrolyte imbalance, uraemia, each of which may culminate in a true emergency if not addressed in time.


This raises a critical legal and clinical question. Must emergency care be reactive, or can it be pre-emptive?


If Article 43(2) of the Constitution of Kenya, 2010, is interpreted narrowly, triggered only at the point of collapse, then the law protects the patient only at the edge of catastrophe. But if it is interpreted purposively, in line with Article 12 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, then emergency care must include interventions that prevent a foreseeable and imminent deterioration into crisis.


In that sense, dialysis purely as illustrative, occupies a unique but important space. It is not always “emergency care” in form, but it is often emergency care in function. A system that requires a patient to wait until they are clinically unstable before treatment is triggered is not merely inefficient. It is conceptually misaligned with both constitutional and international obligations. The right to health, as articulated in Article 12, is not satisfied by late rescue alone. It requires systems that prevent avoidable harm. Accessibility, in this context, includes timely access, not access after deterioration has already occurred.


The implications are significant. At the clinical level, the practitioner’s duty does not begin at the point of collapse. It includes recognising foreseeable deterioration and acting to prevent it. Where dialysis is due, the clinical need is already established. Delay is not neutral. At the institutional level, the obligation is to design systems that do not convert predictable clinical needs into administrative uncertainties. Where dialysis services are offered, continuity is not optional. If administrative processes interrupt that continuity, the institution must have mechanisms to override delay where patient safety is at risk. At the level of the State, the obligation under Article 12 is progressive but real. Health system reforms must move towards greater accessibility, not introduce functional barriers that delay essential care. A financing system that only responds once a patient has deteriorated into an acute emergency risks failing both the accessibility and quality limbs of AAAQ.


This is why the recent discourse on dialysis, though often framed around paperwork and claims, points to a deeper issue. When administrative processes determine whether a patient receives a scheduled, life-sustaining intervention, the system is no longer merely financing care. It is shaping clinical risk. The law is unlikely to remain indifferent to this distinction. The question will not simply be whether emergency care was eventually provided. It will be whether the system allowed a foreseeable emergency to develop in the first place. Emergency care, properly understood, cannot be confined to the moment of collapse. It must extend to preventing that collapse where the risk is known, predictable, and avoidable.


Outside the emergency context, the analysis remains nuanced. Reasonableness, proportionality, and resource constraints continue to matter. But even here, Article 12 requires that accessibility be real and continuous, not episodic and reactive. Systems must be designed to sustain care, not merely to rescue it at the last moment. For clinicians, this environment demands heightened awareness and careful documentation. The record must reflect not only what was done, but what risks were anticipated, what constraints were encountered, and what steps were taken to prevent deterioration. For institutions, it calls for deliberate governance. Administrative pathways must be aligned with clinical realities. Where delays are foreseeable, safeguards must be built in. For the State, it reinforces a fundamental principle. Health system reform must not come at the expense of accessibility. Transition cannot become a justification for preventable harm. The central proposition remains unchanged. System transition does not displace clinical duty. Nor does it permit the redefinition of emergency care so narrowly that intervention only occurs at the point of collapse.


As Kenya’s health financing framework continues to evolve, the intersection between constitutional rights, international obligations, and clinical practice will become sharper. The system may still be adjusting. But the patient cannot be asked to wait until they are dying for the law to recognise that care was urgent.

Advocate Majid Twahir