For years, Kenya’s micro and small businesses have carried the same complaint: tax systems built for the digitally connected elite, not the traders running stalls in Gikomba or matatu crews juggling fares and fuel costs. Platforms like iTax and eTIMS were designed with efficiency in mind, but they demanded smartphones, stable internet, and a certain digital fluency. For millions, that was a bar too high.

By rolling out a USSD service—*222#, Option 5—KRA is effectively admitting that not every taxpayer lives in the world of apps and broadband. With a simple feature phone, users can now retrieve PINs, check registration status, or access key services. It’s not glamorous tech, but sometimes progress is measured by accessibility, not innovation.

For those who do use smartphones, the WhatsApp chatbot((+254 119862344) provides another entry point. It mimics a tool people already understand—messaging—rather than forcing them into unfamiliar government portals. It’s a recognition that adoption improves when the platform feels native to everyday habits.

The plan to recruit 10,000 tax agents could reshape compliance geography. Today, most of KRA’s 136 service centers are in urban hubs. For a farmer in Kitale or a shopkeeper in Taita Taveta, that means hours of travel for basic services. A well-distributed agent model could shrink those distances, offering registration, filing, and payments at the neighborhood level. But it also hands significant responsibility—and power—to intermediaries.

KRA’s outreach pitch is one of support, not punishment. Yet history shows that new compliance tools often become new enforcement levers. The question is whether the Authority can hold to its message of “empowerment for the future” without reverting to the heavy-handed tactics that have strained relations with small businesses in the past.

Kenya has seen similar stories before. Huduma centers expanded access but struggled with staffing. County revenue systems launched with fanfare but stalled when integration costs rose. Studies across Africa show that small businesses comply not just when systems are easy, but when they feel the state offers something tangible in return. Accessibility alone won’t close that gap.

KRA’s rollout signals intent, but the mechanics are still unsettled. Several gaps could determine whether the reforms end in compliance gains or fade into another policy experiment:

These questions aren’t technical footnotes; they are existential to whether the reforms succeed. Kenya’s history of digital government is full of strong starts and weak follow-through. That pattern may repeat unless these gaps are addressed head-on.

The subtext to all these reforms is deeper than technology. It’s about whether citizens view KRA as a partner in nation-building or as a distant enforcer. By holding citizen assemblies and deploying platforms people already use, the Authority signals it wants to be seen as approachable. Whether that perception shift actually takes root remains one of the most critical questions of all.

So how will we know if this new model is working? Beyond KRA’s revenue targets, there are deeper markers worth watching:

In short, KRA’s success metrics must stretch beyond shillings collected. If these reforms make tax compliance feel less like a burden and more like a routine civic duty, then the rollout will stand as a rare case of government tech aligning with citizen needs.

The launch of USSD codes, chatbots, and agent networks is not just about new tools. It marks a rare moment where the tax authority seems willing to acknowledge everyday struggles—patchy internet, limited literacy, and sheer fatigue with bureaucracy—and respond with something more grounded.

Whether these reforms endure will depend on execution. But the gesture itself is significant: a recognition that compliance cannot be commanded from the top down, it has to be made workable from the ground up. If KRA sustains that spirit, it may find that building trust is as valuable to the revenue base as the taxes themselves.